#//But he always makes sure to breathe each time—he’s got a real good sense of the timing to make sure he doesnt actually stay down for long

[aleolusor]

When he allows himself the chance to take a more luxurious bath, Aventurine likes to let himself sliiide to the bottom of the tub and lay there for as long as he’s able before coming back up for a breath. It’s peaceful for him, to be submerged, drift away, and tune out the outside world for a moment.

[nonotnolan]

Rush Week

You develop a special sort of bond with a guy when you've swapped bodies and you're touching each other's dick. It's the justification that Sigma Epsilon Chi gave for their partnership with Cuerpo Inc. during rush week, and I had to admit it makes sense. More to the point, Sig-Ep is THE frat to be in, so I knew I was going to do whatever it took to become a member, hazing be damned.

My face has never been much to look at-- my ears have always been huge, my hair is hopelessly curly, and I think my features are more rugged than handsome. I certainly don't have legacy money or family connections. I pledged with the hope that my muscles or my vibes would get me a ticket in, and I was so relieved to get that offer letter.

They said the house would swap bodies at random for the weekend, but I know that the machinery they use allows you to specify certain swaps and randomize others. I was convinced one of the upperclassmen will be taking my body while I ended up in some twig body for maximum embarrassment... and I wasn't wrong.

Henry is... he's a good guy, honestly. His parents are loaded and he can eat damn near anything and it doesn't affect his figure. I've never been fashion forward, so having access to his closet has been wild. The guy actually owns a sewing machine! He's also one of those guys who is never seen without product in his hair-- he actually left me instructions on how to take care of it. I can only imagine what he's gonna do in my low maintenance body-- all I own are tank tops and gym shirts. I'm half-expecting to come back to a new wardrobe and a manicure. But holy hell, the dude is thin and lanky in ways I didn't think was possible. I hope he enjoys having some actual meat on his bones.

The biggest thing is that Henry is gay. Which, you know, that's totally cool by me! More chicks for the rest of us. But once I was put into his body, seeing all of my fellow bros roaming around shirtless and feeling up their new muscles... I don't know how Henry can wear these skinny jeans all the time. I was rock-hard within minutes and it physically hurt to have my new eight inches constrained by denim. I almost feel guilty, giving him the shorter end of the stick.

I'm pretty sure Henry is an insatiable bottom, so all of that size seems wasted but... what can you do? Anyway, we're allowed to hook up this weekend as long as we use condoms and... when else am I gonna have this opportunity, you know? If I don't take this chance, I'm gonna be consumed by the 'what if's forever. Also the part where I'm horny as fuck in his body.

Lucky for me, whoever ended up in Joey's body was giving me the side-eye the whole time we were at the opening mixer, so I don't think it will take much effort to get my dick wet. His body has the type of smooth skin I've always envied, and I'm honestly jealous at how handsome his face looks. He's got a dirty blonde dye job that plays into his charm, and his muscles are... well, they might be bigger than mine. My real muscles, anyway.

"You wanna head upstairs to my room?" Joey asked, grabbing my bulge in his hand. He flashed a dazzling grin, and I could feel myself swooning from the confidence. God, I wanted him so bad. But Joey was just a Sophomore, which meant he still had one of the smaller bedrooms.

"My room," I said, shaking my head. A thought crossed my mind, and once again I figured I may as well follow the impulse. I threw my arms around Joey's neck and jumped into his arms. He stumbled a bit, but pretty soon his arms were hooked underneath my body to support my weight. So many of my friends back home did that all the time, and now I understood why they found it addicting. I leaned in close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath as I whispered into his ear, "I want you inside me."

---------------------------------------------

"I really needed that," I said, putting some clothes back on after the most intense session of my life. "Can't say that I had ever imagined getting fucked by a man before, but, uhh... I enjoyed it, it was good. Hopefully that was good for you, too?" I could feel myself starting to blush. "I've never been a gay man before, but I think I got the hang of it there at the end."

"Bro, you were great, don't even worry about it," Joey said, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But, uhh... what do you mean, you've never been a gay man before?"

I paused, trying to figure out whether or not he was messing with me. "I mean... I'm in Henry's body right now? It's me, Matty. I'm not actually gay. But, you know... when in Rome."

He just laughed at me. "Bro, that's not how it works. Attraction is all in the brain. Like... yeah, the real Henry is out and proud, but you being in his body doesn't make you gay. If you were into that, you've always been into dudes. You were just too afraid to admit it."

His face was all smiles, but his words felt like a punch to the gut. "Wait, but... I can't be gay, I've had girlfriends, I..." I tried to come up with some sort of defense, but nothing came to mind. I thought I was caught up in what other guys looked like because I was jealous. Was that just some warped form of attraction? "Are you sure the swap works like that?"

Joey wrapped me in a warm hug. "I'm sure. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to give you a existential crisis. I thought you knew. You may not be gay, if it helps? You might be, like... Bi or Pan instead. And no one's gonna make you pick a label right away. Take your time, see what feels right."

He had a point. Being attracted to dudes wasn't limited to just gay men. And anyway, it's not like being gay would be a bad thing. I just... I didn't think it was me. "Hey, thanks bro," I said, hugging him back. "And... sorry if I sounded insulting. There's nothing wrong with being gay, I just didn't think... well, I'll definitely have to figure out my, uhh... my truth, I guess."

I started lowering my hands back down to his ass, and pretty soon we were making out again. "Hey, are you sure this is what you want?" Joey asked, pausing as I started to strip again. "Feels like you're moving fast, and I want to make sure you're not, like... pressured or whatever."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied, smiling at him. "You're the one who told me to see what feels right. That was my first time having sex with a dude, and it felt pretty good. So I think I'm gonna have sex with a guy for a second time. See what happens."

He smiled back, and I could feel myself melt. I don't know who's in Joey's body right now, but I hope it's someone hot. There's no way we aren't hooking up once we swap back.

[bhaalble]

I like that Last Unicorn quote as much as the next guy but I do always wind up feeling a little detached from analysis that paints Astarion's disapproval as purely envy. Partly because. No one's doing this for Lae'zel for instance even though she has similar disapproval and similar trauma (all she can remember is a hostile physically and emotionally exploitative environment which expected perfect strength and obedience from her or else she would be punished or killed). But also partly because it feels pretty detached from everything he actually has to say about it.

The thing about Astarion is he loathes weakness. He loathes sentiment and he loathes dependence. You can see this when he actually opens his mouth up about the people he disapproves of saving, but also incredibly loudly when he talks about the other companions, as well as his fellow spawn. If Lae'zel submits to Vlaakith he talks scornfully about how some people just come to love their chains. He's confused and put off if Wyll submits to Mizora to save his father. In every conversation with his fellow spawn (at least when hes not actively manipulating them) he's dismissive and harsh, and clearly he's perfectly willing to sacrifice them for the sake of himself.

There's an obvious origin point of those feelings, of course. Cazador's abuse is designed to actively kill off empathy in his spawn, both towards each other and towards victims. The last time Astarion prioritized someone over his own skin he got locked in a tomb for a year. We can see glimpses of it with the other spawn too, how his siblings are (apparently uncompelled at first) willing to drag Astarion back to their master for their freedom, how Petras' first dream of freedom is getting to drain another person dry. Astarion certainly doesn't seem to feel any real sense of solidarity with them, likely because Cazador understands that them building a community is a threat to his authority the way it was to his own master.

I'd also argue its Astarion projecting his own self-loathing outwards. So much of his quest is about his desperate attempt to escape from who he was. He's been given a chance to slip free of the limitations of being a spawn. He clings to that because of course he would. He also instinctively begins to run over everything in his path, because if there's anything he has learned over the past 200 years its that good things can always be taken away unless you make sure to remove any and all possible threats to that scrap of well-being. He's disdainful of people in need of help because they represent who he fears to go back to being! He calls his siblings "poor fools" while refusing to confront the fact that had it not been for the tadpole he would be in exactly their position, forced to cling to the hope that Cazador is telling the truth for once because escape isn't an option either way. He becomes irritated when Tav slows down to help the unfortunate because they represent roadblocks on his own path to safety.

There's an idea in mental health stolen from airplane safety: that you shouldn't help anyone else until your own mask is secure. What they don't tell you, speaking from personal experience at least, is that PTSD, especially for long term trauma, has a way of making you feel like your own mask will never be secure. And while that's scary, and it sucks, and there should be the utmost patience for it: no one is going to realize that mask is secure for you. Eventually you are going to have to accept the fact that you are breathing just fine. Eventually you are also going to have to accept that people asking something of you isn't them endangering you, even if it can sometimes (often) feel like it. It doesn't make you obligated to help them. But it does mean you have to stop reacting to them like a threat, because not 5 minutes ago that was you.

I think the idea that he's only mad because he's jealous is a gratifying fantasy. He didnt feel safe before, but now through your PC and the power of love he'll feel warm and cozy enough to forgive you for not being there to begin with. But I also think Astarion cannot live in a reality where he's never pushed back on. His instinctive self-protective movements are a coping mechanism, yes, but coping mechanisms developed under survival conditions can also be a way of keeping you frozen in your trauma. Outside of the environment they were necessary for, they can even hinder you from growing in the ways you need to grow to move past what happened to you. Sometimes, you need to stop a baby tiefling from getting crazy murdered by a snake because it turns out. That can happen to anybody not just people who are weak and stupid and deserve to die anyways not like me I'm normal-

[keyotos]

eyes on you

summary: when do the hsr men have their eyes on you?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i am OBSESSED w the sound "all these girls look good but i got my eyes on you." so that's what inspired me to write this. this is sickenly sweet btw.

dan heng

⎯ let’s be real this man always has his eyes on you. he is probably watching you to look out for you. but that’s just in a romantic sense.

⎯ dan heng is the observer type. he watches and he learns.

⎯ he watches you quite a lot. he always tries to brush it off as trying to make sure you don't break anything, but march & stelle know better. even you aren't that klutzy.

⎯ dan heng watches what you eat to find out what you enjoy. he watches how you react to certain things to see if you dislike them or not. in short, he observes (watches) you to find out how to be better for you. he wants to be the best version of himself, and that includes knowing what all your favorite things are.

⎯ he definitely logs all the information he knows about you in his little data base. it's like his notes app, but a notes app for nerds.

⎯ march & stelle insist he just ask you, but nooooooo, because that would seem like he doesn't know anything about you. in reality, he knows plenty.

⎯ you would think that, judging on how much he stares at you, he would know how to not get caught. WRONG. you've caught him on multiple occasions.

one time, when the world around you was surprisingly peaceful, you and dan heng went to go get food for march & stelle. after you ordered their food you guys sat down at a table (bc you all were meeting up) with their food. you eyed the food carefully before stealing a sip of stelle's drink.

⎯ "she won't mind!" she did. but that's okay.

when you took a sip out of stelle's drink, dan heng was watching you closely to see if you would enjoy it. if you enjoyed it, he'd get one for you the next time you guys come. while he's staring, he loses track of his original goal and begins noting other things. the crinkle of your eyes when you smile at the taste of the drink. the way your whole face lights up.

⎯ "take a picture, it'll last longer," you caught him and smiled. dan heng leaves his trance and begins to blush.

⎯ "that is such a ridiculous line," he shakes his head, trying to deflect the fact that he's been caught. he has his eyes on you one more time to see you smirking at him.

⎯ he now takes candid photos of you because of that line.

gepard

⎯ due to his captain position, you guys never got to see each other often. any free time you had was treated with utmost importance and no time could be spared. gepard barely had any time to set any eyes on you.

⎯ when bronya became the supreme guardian and when the fragmentum dispelled, everything changed. gepard now had more free time, which meant he had more time with you. time that could be spent doing nothing but just admiring the way you look.

gepard hasn't seen you in weeks. with the final clearance of the fragmentum monsters, he was gifted a few weeks of clarity with you. when he got home, he immediately showered and tried his best to look good for you.

when he saw you for the first time, you literally took his breath away. it was as if you glowed; you were nearly as radiant as the bright sun that was shining down on your face. gepard's eyes and his attention were only on you.

⎯ you and the guy that was standing next to you.

⎯ WHO IS THIS MAN????? did you finally get tired of endless waiting? did you feel lonely? does he treat you well? is he nice? does he listen to all your rants? is he there to kiss you goodnight?

⎯ gepard's thoughts are interrupted when he hears your voice. he sees you running over to him and then you're pulling him.

you grab his arm, pulling him towards the new guy. gepard was initially worried about what was going to happen next, but all was forgotten when he felt your arm tangled around his once again; he immediately leaned into your warm touch. instead of looking at the new guy, his eyes follow you at all times. gepard's fond expression is seen by all except himself.

his absence from your grace allowed him to forget every small detail about you. the way your smile grew as you spoke about your relationship (gepard blushed). the way you got all excited when you were introducing people. the way your voice goes up an octave when you get excited.

every time you pull yourself closer to his body, gepard is on the verge of combustion. he’s been touch starved for so long, he couldn’t wait for until you guys went home. he just wanted to be in bed or on the couch with you, simply relaxing in sweet nothing.

for now though, gepard waited for the conversation to end.

⎯ when the conversation is over, you and gepard have a small conversation.

"sooo, were you listening to me or staring at me during that whole thing?" you smirked. when gepard's face blushed, you couldn't help but smile. "i wasn't cheating on you if that's what you were worried about," you pulled him closer using the collar of his shirt, "i missed you too, by the way," and pulled him in for a kiss.

blade

⎯ blade doesn't consider himself to be the staring type. he's more, less talking (staring), more action (i'll let you guys interpret).

⎯ but how could he not stare at you when you look so peaceful. you're sleeping in his bed, wrapping in his blankets, and snoring without a care in the world.

⎯ had the snoring not been so loud, blade wouldn't have woken up to find such an endearing moment.

⎯ now, blade has been staring at your sleeping figure for longer than he would like to admit. he's been watching the rise and fall of your chest. listening to the snores getting quieter and then louder once more. he cannot tear his eyes off of your peaceful state.

blade brushes pieces of stray hair away from your face. he puts his hand over your sleeping figure, as if he was trying to protect you from the evils in the night. at this moment, however, there were no evils. just you and him in the moonlight. maybe it was the domesticity of the whole situation that made him continue his one-sided staring contest. with all the fighting and destruction going on in the universe right now, you are still next to him. you are here, and he is listening to you snore.

⎯ it's when you shuffle around the best, blade gets scared. he's scared he woke you up and ruined this domestic moment. his hand recoils away from your body.

⎯ when you turn, you are still asleep. it seems you were just readjusting yourself. readjusting yourself closer to him, that is. you went from back facing him to your front facing him.

⎯ blade watched your face as you slept. you looked so beautiful with the pale moonlight shining down on your face. normally, you complained that you couldn't sleep with the moon shining on your face, so that's why you slept with your back facing towards blade.

⎯ but tonight, blade has never gotten a chance to admire how the moonlight reflects on the shapes of your faces. your eyes, your lips, your nose.

⎯ it's when you put a hand on his knee, blade nearly jumps back. not out of fear (slightly out of fear), but because he thought he woke you up by breathing. he was confused.

you put your hand on his knee, in a sleeping daze. usually, at night, you are always physically touching your boyfriend somehow. but tonight, he is awake, watching you. your small act of physical touch was a beckoning for him to go to sleep and be with you.

⎯ blade grabbed your hand and slipped back under the covers with you. this time, after admiring one last glimpse of your sleeping face, he tugged you closer to him and you both fell asleep.

sampo

⎯ there are many formidable fighters in boulder city. that's a fact. fighting is the way of many in the underworld. sampo has seen it first hand.

⎯ sampo had not, however, seen a fighter as formidable as you.

⎯ he stumbled upon one of dig's matches at the right time. there was a crowd leading out to the door; it peaked sampo's curiosity. he had intentions of selling items at first, which is why he was shuffling through the crowd to get into the center. but when he saw you in the ring, beating everyone in your path, his beginning intentions were forgotten.

⎯ his eyes were glued to you: he was obsessed with the way you moved, the way you glided across the ring, the way you confidently destroyed all your enemies. he found you entrancing, and he had to see you after the match.

⎯ you’re no underground idiot. you’re aware of sampo koski and his costly scams. when he comes up to you after your match, you were about to run away. still, something about his presence made you want to stay.

when you turned around, you were faced with sampo koski hovering over you. “can i help you?” you asked in a raised tone.

“yes,” sampo smiled. you were interested in where this conversation was going, and you were curious on why sampo chose you to be his next victim. “mind teaching me some moves?”

⎯ you expected a lot of things in this situation. scamming, coy flirtation, winks, etc. you did not expect this.

⎯ you almost stumble back in shock. why does he want to know self-defense tips?? who are the people he’s scamming??????

you’re silent for several beats before sampo begins again, “you’re the best fighter in the underground, honest. and,” he dragged on the word to drag out the conversation, “that means you can help me!”

⎯ if sampo was really being honest with himself, he could’ve asked any other person in the ring. anyone else would’ve shown him self-defense; they liked him. you probably did not (judging by your expression).

⎯ instead, he wanted you. he told himself it was because you were the best fighter in the ring and you were talented. but deep down, it’s because he couldn’t keep his eyes off your performance the entire time; he was encapsulated by you.

“flattery will get you nowhere,” you patted his shoulder and started to walk away; however, sampo’s hand lightly grabs onto your arm, urging you to stay. and for some reason, you don’t let go.

“cmon,” he smirked, and it was weirdly attractive, “what if i need a bodyguard?”

⎯ maybe it was the tone of his voice. maybe it was the way he looked at you. maybe it was the way he held onto you, but he didn’t hold on too tight. whatever it was that night, it convinced you to stay by his side for a long time.

jing yuan

⎯ he can’t take his eyes off of you when he sees you in the courtyard playing chess with yanqing.

⎯ it's a sight for sore eyes, seeing you and yanqing together. the way you two got along so well made jing yuan's heart swell. seeing you two was like feeling the warm sun after a chilly day.

⎯ jing yuan has never expected you to stay for so long. his life has been full of troubles: intense training at a young age, the death of his master, taking on yanqing as his apprentice, and probably more to come. and yet, you've stayed by his side.

⎯ you are here. and you are alive and you are well. with a life full of loss, jing yuan is happy you are still here. he’s happy that you are smiling and laughing and you are doing mundane things such as playing chess.

⎯ it’s a simple activity. it’s calm and it’s peaceful and there’s no harm coming your way. life seems good for once, and jing yuan thinks he can get used to this as long as you were around him. he finds that peace comes along when you are around anyway.

“darn it! how did you see that?!” yanqing exclaimed, shocked by your recent move in chess. you simply smiled in retaliation, “dunno. face it kid, i am just that good.”

“hey! i was close to getting you though,” the boy reminded you. jing yuan was getting closer now to eavesdrop on your conversation. “key word being close,” you snickered.

⎯ who knew the way into jing yuan’s heart was banter and chess? the more he listened to your conversation, the more his heart swelled. the way you got along so easily with yanqing made him all warm and happy inside; it was such a domestic sight to see.

jing yuan approached your battle with yanqing and sat down next to you. like a moth to a light, you immediately leaned into his body, and jing yuan had to fight off the urge to pull you closer to him.

⎯ yanqing didn’t notice anything, as he was too focused on the chess game. he moved one of his pieces that were then followed by one of your chess pieces.

“you know i was the one who taught your master how to play chess?” you blurted out to yanqing as you followed his pieces around the board. jing yuan looked at you fondly, eyes never leaving your face.

“that’s why i’m so good,” you smirked, “and that’s also why i’m smart enough to do this,” you somehow managed to trap all of yanqing’s pieces, and one by one you started to take them all.

⎯ jing yuan had to hold in his laughter as he watched yanqing’s jaw drop to the floor as you give a low chuckle. jing yuan’s eyes went back to your face, and he thinks that this is nice. he could get used to this.

um yk idk if this is good or not but hopefully u guys enjoy this lol

[selarina]

Synopsis: You're mad at Gojo, and he spirals.

Warnings: Mention of a fire

Getou doesn’t feel like hanging out today, but he shows up anyway — it’s routine after all, and he doesn’t want to deal with a whiny Gojo Satoru, especially since he doesn’t have you to split the burden with today.

Summoning a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Getou walks into the threshold of Satoru's house.

He looks around the house and nothing. No one.

But something felt out of place. Satoru always seems to sense when Getou walks in, and he would be out the door just as quickly as he walked in, he’d be out at this new restaurant, or this new arcade Gojo wanted to check out. But today, he's met with silence.

"Satoru?" Getou called out, his voice echoing through the cavernous house, only to be greeted by the eerie emptiness.

A tinge of panic brushes its touch against Getou's hand. "Satoru, where are you?" he called out once more.

Some rumbling and soft sounds of several thuds emanate from above him. Without hesitation, Getou ascends the stairs, driven by an insidious sense of unease.

Upon entering the library upstairs, he was met with an odd sight.

An assortment of books lay scattered across the floor, each laying at different stages of unraveling — while most of them are closed, some of them lay open — some open on the last page, some halfway through, and some open to the first page. 

Then, amidst this chaos on the floor, Getou spots the white blur of hair through his peripheral vision. He turns, finding Satoru, who seems to be very intently jotting down something in a black notebook, seemingly oblivious to his presence in the room.

“Satoru, I called for you?”

Satoru looks up, caught off guard — something must be truly wrong.

“Suguru! Today’s no good. I’m busy,” he replied, his eyes immediately flitting back down to his notebook.

Getou thinks he should thread this lightly, he’s all too familiar with the boy’s ability to brush things off entirely too quickly. His eyes roved the scene — going over the balls of discarded papers, the books, and the plate of lunch that seemed to be untouched.

"Uh," Getou began, inching closer to the boy with his hands in his pockets. He's weaving his steps across the slew of books — careful to not step on any of them. "What are you up to?"

No response at all, it’s like Suguru isn’t even here.

Suguru bends down, picking up the nearest book on the floor — an austere hardbound volume with golden lettering, bearing the title "Time Travel in Einstein's Universe." His fingers gently placed it down, only to lift another book, paper this time — it read "How to Build a Time Machine: The Real Science of Time Travel."

Standing upright, still holding the book, Getou asks, "Satoru, why are you reading about time travel? No, better question — how come you’re… reading?”

"I'm trying to time travel," Gojo replied with an unsettling nonchalance, as though he was merely discussing matters of the weather.

A few beats pass, mainly because Suguru was deciding between a simple  “Why?” and a more emphatic “What the hell?”

But because Suguru is Suguru, and he’s been equipped with the art of patience, he oppted for a measured, “I don’t think you can do that.” He makes sure to punctuate his sentence with a faint chuckle. 

"I need to," Satoru asserts, standing up as his eyes scan the floor for another book.

"Pretty sure no one can change time," Getou countered. "Not even us."

"We could," Satoru insisted, his voice unwavering. "Maybe—if we tried hard enough." His gaze then locks into Getou's, his conviction unwavering. “We are the strongest after all.”

Getou decides to indulge this because he’s just far too curious. "All right," he began cautiously. "Why do you need to time travel anyway?"

"You know how my partner is upset with me?" Satoru asked.

"Yeah," Getou replied, a weariness permeating his voice — he vividly recalls Satoru's relentless whining on the subject from the previous night. He eventually got the boy to shut up, only for him to start all over today morning — it’s part of the reason he didn’t feel like hanging out today, but you’ll never catch him saying this out loud.

"Well, if I reversed time," Gojo continued with an unnerving grin, "then they'd never be upset with what I did. Problem solved!"

Getou feels the sudden urge to chew on a notebook to satiate his frustration. “Are you serious?” he asks.

“Deadly.”

"Satoru," he snatched the notebook from Satoru's table—the very notebook the latter had been intently writing in. His eyes find themselves looking at a plethora of mathematic equations he doesn’t understand. He sighs, looking up at the man.

“Do you know anything that can help? Help me, please,” Satoru implored, his head bobbing fervently.

Getou thinks that this is surely the height of insanity. Surely, someone needs to lock Gojo Satoru up.

Speechless, Getou succumbs to laughter — like a total madman. 

He dials it down as he notices Satoru’s escalating exasperation with him. He spoke again, “You’re an idiot. How about you actually apologize to them instead of doing… whatever this is.” 

He tosses the notebook back to Satoru, who catches it with a swift, outstretched hand.

—

“Please, stop!” He rushes behind you, as Getou trails right behind him. “Stop avoiding me please or I’ll die.”

“Wow, you really are like those high-maintenance plants,” you quip as you come to a stop, finally turning to lay your eyes on the boy. 

"I'm not..." He totally is. 

“Glad to see you’re not too torn up about our fight since you’re out here at an arcade,” you say, sarcasm dripping to the floor beneath you, just a few more missteps, and Gojo could slip and fall everlastingly.

“No! I was very upset. Ask Getou,” he points to the man, who simply nods in tandem. He starts again, "Can we please please just talk this out? I'm really sorry."

"Oh? Are you?" you questioned, skepticism etched into your features. "Is that why you ghosted me for a whole week?"

"I got scared," he admits. "I thought you'd leave me."

“I considered that,” you reply, arms crossed.

His eyes widen, and you think he looks like a kicked puppy. But this was a serious matter, and you suppressed the urge to ruffle his hair.

"See—now I want to run away, so you never will," he whimpered. "But I won't, because I'm genuinely sorry, I mean it."

You stared at him, the genuineness in his eyes catching your weary gaze. You had been tired all week. Finally, you relented.

"Fine," you sigh. "Let's talk it out."

"Okay! Thank you baby!" he says, an immediate smile spreading across his face. 

"See? I told you it's not a big deal—" Getou began, his smile mirroring Satoru's. However, he falls silent when he noticed your changing expression.

“Not a big deal?” You exclaim, clearing seething with a bubbling anger. It’s seemingly a harmless sentence but something in you must have broken down at the sound of that.

"I-I mean, it's not a big deal because I'll fix it, and everything will be fine," Satoru's voice stammers through.

"It's not all going to be just fine, Satoru. You burned down my house," you stated.

“I burned down your kitchen,” he corrects you.

“Wow, I’m sorry I don’t know why I was making such a big deal. It’s only my kitchen!” You start to chuckle, a deranged sense of amusement escaping your lips as you turn to Getou, “Do you hear that Suguru? It’s only my kitchen, he says.”

Suguru gulps, not wanting to be more involved in this than he was. He turns his head away, only now noticing that everyone’s watching the scene unfold like it’s their favorite telenovela. “Guys, maybe let’s not do this here.”

"Yeah, I was done here anyway," you declared, shooting a final glare at Satoru before making a swift exit.

Satoru immediately chased after you, throwing himself out the arcade's door.

“Baby, please!” He finally comes to grip your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You look up at him, and he notices you carry no malice really — just a weariness that shows in your tired tired eyes, he feels the urge to take you home, so he can run his hands over your eyes and put you to sleep. So he can finally sleep beside you himself.

“I’m sorry, Getou’s an idiot. It is a big deal. I never should have done that. It was obviously an accident but I was just trying to be nice, and obviously… that didn’t work out as I planned. And of course, I’ll fix the kitchen, I’ll pay for everything — even add in upgrades if you want. And before you say anything… this is on me. I should pay,” he says.

"I was going to make you pay anyway. What were you even trying to do in my kitchen?"

"Well," he began with a sheepish look on his face, almost ashamed. "It was our anniversary, and wanted to make you something."

“Why would you do that? You can barely boil rice,” you sigh, your eyes coming up to soothe your forehead.

“I-I don’t know. You mentioned how your ex-boyfriend made your food all the time when you guys were together so I thought you’d like that.”

“Yeah, well. Osamu was a chef, and you’re the opposite of that,” you replied, your arms encircling his in a soothing grip.

He sighed, gazing out at the street — his eyes staring down at the passing cars before speaking once more, “It’s not just that.”

"What then?" you inquired.

“I’m not good at this,” he confesses.

You maintained your steady gaze, urging him to continue.

“At this — Romance,” he clarifies. “I can’t do it so I’m always looking and copying others. I only leave you notes because you do that. I only give you keychains because Getou does that with his boyfriend. I only knew I had to invite you to work when Nanami mentioned it. I just—”

You hummed softly, encouraging him to continue.

“I don’t know how to love. It’s part of the reason why I even tried to cook. You’re so good at loving me, I can’t ever pay you back for it.”

“Satoru, you’re good at it too,” you say. “Just not in the ways I am, or Getou, or Nanami. You’re good at it in your own way. It’s about how you know when to order in when I’m feeling tired. It’s about how you pick out the stones I like for the keychains. It’s about how you showed up all the way to my Switzerland work trip when I was on the verge of a fucking mental breakdown. It’s about how you always draw something hideous when you leave notes knowing I’ll find it funny when I’m back from work. It’s about you trying in the first place,” you say.

"The drawings are supposed to be cute," he mumbled.

“I know you think that,” you chuckled softly. “And besides, I only leave notes because my mother did that for my father. We all learn from someone.”

A moment of silence enveloped you both, broken only by your gradual approach. “You can teach me, and I can teach you. If you let me.”

He sighed, enfolding you in a tight hug.

“Also, as much I appreciate the effort now, I hope you know you’re banned from my kitchen,” you mumble across his chest.

“Okay, I’ll learn how to cook though,” he says. “For you.”

“Okay,” you say. 

[eevees-hobbies]

Just hear me out… you already having a baby w the bofurin and shishitoren boys (loml big dick Togame) and saying “our baby is so cute, i want another one” and they’re like “yeah? you want me to give you another baby?” And then boom they’re fucking another baby into you 🤭 (nobody look at me PLS)

Author’s Note: Part of the “Let That Man Breed You 2024” campaign! 

Content Warning: TW: Pregnancy. TW: Sexualization of the Pregnant Body. TW: Body Changes As a Result of Pregnancy. Heavy breeding kink, lactation fetish, Togame likes you dependent on him while you’re pregnant. He calls you mama. Getting your brains fucked out, mention of creampie. And as always, every pregnancy is different, and your mileage may vary! Minors Do Not Interact. 

Word Count: 1.2K

Babies can be fairly precarious things. They consume your life as soon as you conceive them, taking up real estate in your womb, wreaking havoc on your senses, and using your bladder as their personal trampoline. And when they’re born? You eat, sleep, and breathe “baby” because “baby” is your new way of life.

But do you know what else babies are good at? When they look at you with big, bright eyes, squeezing your finger in their small, delicate hand, and giving you a sweet giggle, they are remarkably good at convincing you that those sleepless nights weren’t so bad. Witching hour? More like party hour! Foul-smelling diapers? You don’t need your sense of smell anyway!

Beautiful black curls, chubby cheeks, and doe-sized emerald green eyes are to blame for the position you’re in–literally and figuratively speaking, of course.

You found yourself turning to Togame after putting your little one to sleep, your mouth already moving before your brain could truly comprehend the weight of your words: “He’s so cute, Jo. I want to make another one.”

Famous last words and all that.

And that’s why you’re now bent over, face-down, and ass perched as high as a back arch will allow in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom with Togame’s cock buried so deep inside your cunt that your eyes are watering.

“Mmm, you want me to put another baby in you, mama?”

You bite your lip, hiccuping through the intensity of him stirring your guts, and give him a nod. You can see his face in the reflection of the mirror—he’s brandishing his signature lazy, half-smile, but his eyes are as if in a trance as they sweep over your body, admiring the way your juicy cunt swallows his cock with each hard backshot he delivers. His cock-head is repeatedly bullying the spot that makes you cry out with each thrust, feeling so good that your thighs have been trembling since you both started and show no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“Y-yeah, baby! W-wanna girl this time!”

He grunts, his hand grabbing a fistful of your ass and not regretting being rough in the slightest as each plea, demand, whimper, grunt, and whine he elicits from you only makes him more entranced.

He loves how you ask—and beg—for him to breed you. Togame had always considered himself a simple man. Kinks? Eh, he had preferences, sure, and certain things got him more riled up than most, but he became a changed man as soon as you became pregnant with his son.

It makes him a different, less in-control being thinking about your belly growing round again, the cute waddle that you’ll develop because you can’t see your feet, and this is one of the more critical and selfish reasons, but he loves that you’ll need him for absolutely everything.

“Togame, help me stand up.”

“Ugh, Togame, please help me tie my shoe.”

“Togame, need yoooooou.”

And while none of those reasons may be sexual in nature–maybe the desire for your dependency on him might be, but that’s an analysis for a different day–there are sexual fantasies and kinks that he is able to live out while you’re carrying his child. 

He loves having you ride him, fully pregnant, as you bounce on his dick. At first, you were hesitant to do so, scared that the added weight of the additional human housed inside you would be too much, but he simply grabbed your hand and guided your wrist to his mouth, where he placed a trail of soft, languid kisses.

“You don’t need to worry about any of that. Now, ride me, pretty girl.”

And when you finally got out of your own head? Trivial thoughts about your new body vanished because how can anyone focus with 9 inches of cock buried inside of them? Definitely not you!

Togame looked up at you and swore that if he died at that moment, he might not be too upset about it. His hands cupping your already swollen and heavy breasts as you grip and grind at his cock is the closest he’s ever felt to cumming inside of you faster than he ever thought possible.

“Baby,” he coos, “you’re doing so good bouncin’ on my dick, but say the word, and I’ll take over.”

He loves how wide your hips have gotten after carrying and birthing your first child, his hands always somehow finding a way to squeeze you there, even in public. People have to look away because when he does it, it feels so intimate and laced with a sexual undertone. 

He just can’t help it because, fuck, does motherhood look good on you. 

And Togame absolutely loses his mind when you come to him, wincing in pain because the baby didn’t drink enough of your milk, so now your breasts are rock-hard, and you need relief.

“Please help me, Togame,” you whimper, voice straining to fully verbalize what you need, so you raise your hands to your chest and gently motion to your breasts. 

And to Togame, the sight is glorious; your breasts struggling to fit in your shirt and nipples managing to leak breast milk even through your padded bra? If only you knew the unholy thoughts that flow in this man’s head when you come to him in such a vulnerable state.

He’d rest his head in your lap, looking up at your darkened nipples, surrounded by a puffy areola, the tip now flowing with droplets of thick, fresh breast milk. He’ll latch his mouth around the sensitive bud, sucking in mouthfuls while his other hand squeezes the other neglected nipple, streams of milk squirting out as you run your fingers through his hair.

“Thank you, baby, that feels so good.” 

And he loves the way people ogle your big belly in public as they can’t help but stare because even in the womb, Togame gives you big babies. He loves knowing that they’re thinking about him stuffing you full of his seed, creampieing you an insurmountable amount of times to get you so round, so big, so sexy. 

“Don’t worry, mama. I got ya’ I know exactly what you need.”

He delivers hard smacks to your ass, making the fat of it ripple and bounce against him as he presses his palm on your shoulder and pushes you down, your cheek now buried in the plush rug on your floor as Togame bends a long leg at your side to give him better leverage.

As your mind goes blank, and a sliver of drool escapes the corner of your mouth because god, he’s so deep, and even as you try and shift under him, the hand on your shoulder is unwavering.

“Now, now, mama. This is what you wanted, right? What you asked for? Just relax for me, and I’ll do allllll the work.”

Everything about him is just so big, his frame, his 9 inches of thick cock, and his heavy balls. It’s just so much! But you have to take it all if you want him to give you another baby. 

And to Togame, you look so good like this—ethereal even—fucked out on his cock that’s drilling into you, heavy tits squished against the floor, and so willing to take everything he has to offer you.

“Mmm, here it comes, mama. Ya ready for your first load of the night?” 

“Gonna give you that baby girl I promised.” 

“You lookin’ at yourself in the mirror, baby? Get a good look cuz you’ll be knocked up and swollen in a few months.”

@taytebby Delivery!

[strawbeelemonade]

We need more of spider punk❤️❤️❤️

ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS (Part 2!): Hobart brown

GIF by fizzytoo

SO many requests for this guy,,, i hope you like!

🕷 - hobbie likes watching you stand up for yourself.

🕷 - he knows you have spunk, no matter how deep down, it’s there.

🕷 - it thrills him to see you fight back, fills him with satisfaction. He will back you up in a heartbeat, no matter what it is he will fight with you and for you.

🕷 - he’ll fall back to back with you, you won’t have to worry when fighting along side him, let yourself go and spread CHAOS. He’s got your back

🕷 - he’s very deep thinking. He values your morals, your conviction and who you are in the face of hardships.

🕷 - He thinks real hard about what he chooses to put his faith in. And that includes you.

🕷 - he trusts you with his life.

🕷 - he’s a bit of a wanderer. There isn’t really a reliable routine he follows, so you might go a little while without seeing him.

🕷 - but don’t worry, he’ll always come back to you. He won’t leave you lonely for too long, gorgeous.

🕷 - he’ll pay you random visits just because!

🕷 - and by that I mean he’ll let himself in.

🕷 - its not uncommon for him to show up in the middle of the night, and if your not asleep, he offers to sneak you out for a few hours of fun.

🕷 - It’s alright, beautiful/handsome, there’s no safer place then by his side.

🕷 - If you live here, you’ll know that the UK can get pretty cold, especially at night. he’ll lend you his jacket if he catches you shivering

🕷 - Hobie will take you to concerts. You’re his first choice.

🕷 - he’s got a lot of connections and he can get you in easily.

🕷 - if you think he is anywhere other than right in the front then you are CRAZY. and he wants you right there with him.

🕷 - the music is so loud it’ll shoot through your chests, filling both your senses. sharing that exhilaration with you means a lot to him.

🕷 - he keeps you close to him the whole time, and makes sure you don’t get too roughed up by the other people around you.

🕷 - If it all gets too much don’t worry, he knows a cushy spot in the rafters away from all the people, and its a great view.

🕷 - when Hobie’s the one on stage he’ll be looking for you in the crowd

🕷 - he plays better when your there

🕷 - knowing your eyes are on him makes him more bold.

🕷 - don’t take your eyes off of him. Don’t you dare look away. He wants to see your face.

🕷 - he’s on the run a lot, so he’ll need to crash at your place often to lay low.

🕷 - “thanks, doll. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

🕷 - if you play guitar he will play solo’s with you

🕷 - if you don’t know how to play he’ll sit behind you and rest his hands over your own, pressing your fingers into the right chords.

🕷 - his chest pressing in to your back are the least of your worries, though. His breathe is hot and his lips are soft. And, oh! your cheek and jaw, which are his favourite places to kiss, are completely exposed.

🕷 - good luck.

🕷 - he’ll give you piggy back rides.

🕷 - wrap your arms around him as tightly as you want. He doesn’t mind. his hair might tickle your face as he turns his head to give you a peck on the cheek, though.

🕷 - when you both sleep next to each other you won’t have to worry about his hair getting in your face. He’ll wear a wrap.

🕷 - his hair is NICE in the movie. those wicks were P R I S T I N E

🕷 - if you play with the little baby hairs poking out from the bundle then he’ll be all over you I bet he’d love that.

🕷 - if he loses his wrap then he might use his mask in a pinch. It’d be really fun if the inside was lined with silk just to keep his hair nice.

🕷 - If he sleeps in that then your gonna have to put something on the spikes to stop them from poking you 😭

🕷 - "nah fam i am not sticking marhsmellows on my head."

🕷 - Honk shoo

🕷 - he will pierce you ears for you.

🕷 - he knows how to sew. mending clothes are more cost effective, and punks have been DIYing outfits since the very beginning.

🕷 - if you don't know how, he can hem or mend your clothes. like i don't he he knows just surface level knowledge either. Hobbie is IN the sewing community

🕷 - he'd get zesty with it too!

🕷 - yeah, he could sew your clothes to look good as new, but have you seen visible decorative mending? there are so many ways to get creative with mending- his personality would really shine through in his work.

🕷 - your favourite pair of jeans that used to have a hole in the knee are now fixed, but with am embroidered spider web spriraling outwards.

🕷 - this is an example of how incredibly thoughtful he is. he spends lots of time and love to turn something broken into something new. and thats one of the ways he'll show you he loves you.

🕷 - you won't really ever be questioning if he loves you though.

🕷 - he's blunt. he'll let you know.

🕷 - tee hee

🕷 - Hobart doesn’t really get Jealous.

🕷 - But he LOVES rubbing your relationship in any clueless suitor’s face when he gets the chance.

🕷 - after watching the movie I am 100% certain that he is willing to clock someone over the head for you.

🕷 - intimidation tactics work great to ward off most creeps. But some people need a demonstration.

🕷 - his hand will snake around your lower tummy or waist, and he pulls you flush against himself

🕷 - he’d lean down to whisper “is this one bothering you?”. Real quietly so no one else can hear.

🕷 - if your friends with Hobart, your friends with Pavitr.

🕷 - and if your dating Hobart, then your basically gonna date him too LMAO

🕷 - Pav thinks you're both so cute! You have his full support. He is INVESTED. The moment he sees you after rough housing with Hobie he gasps! Hello you!

🕷 - he’s all over you.

🕷 - Pav thinks you’re a sweetheart. If Hobie isn’t there you can count on him to have your back.

🕷 - I’ve said this before but he’s canonically got a good read on people, and that’s probably especially so for his best friend.

🕷 - and so he sees how happy you make him. Pav absolutely treasures you.

🕷 - Chances are you'll end up getting close with Gwen too! she stays over in other universes since her situation back in her own isn't great. you guys end up hanging out because of it and ya'll grow close.

[whiskeynwriting]

Eyes On Me

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 

Flirting, pining, size difference, mentions and descriptions of injury, mentions of battle, dirty talk, praise, dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex

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Summary: Ghost gets a life-threatening injury, and it’s your job to make sure he returns to full-health. 

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A/N: I rarely do summaries on one-shots, but since I’m introducing a character I figured I would (: I loooove this character, and I’m really hoping to write more one-shots with her and Ghost in the future!

Part Two: Lucky

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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◆

Working on them was easy, they took everything you gave them like champs. Splints, stitches, cleanings, anything they had, you took care of. They’d bite their tongues, ball up their fists if they had to, but for the most part, that was it. Vargas wouldn’t whine, but Gaz would. Price was nearly silent and in all honesty, Soap whimpered like a baby. But Ghost, he didn’t ever make a sound. 

It wasn’t always like this, you weren’t always 141’s go-to medic. Before, you were here for everyone. Whoever needed you, that’s who you tended to. You got so good at it that at one point, you’d been promoted to a rescue mission position. Daily helicopter rides became your usual. Freezing temperatures and smoke-filled air met your exterior shell on a weekly basis. You’ve even been dropped into open fields full of bullets and bloody cries. The training you received was minimal, but enough for you to take it and run. You had talent, that talent growing into expertise. You knew how to defend yourself, your reflexes were good. You could shoot a gun and if need be, hold your own. That’s what got you to 141. 

They impressed you, they still do. The team worked like a well oiled machine. And when you first saw them, you immediately questioned him. 

“What’s with the mask?” You’d asked him, straight to his face. He tilted his head. “Is it still Halloween?” 

The boys laughed, but Ghost didn’t. His fingers curled, and he sucked in a breath. You were brand new; not a good way to start off with him. Hey, it’s not your fault he took it the wrong way. You love Halloween. Sometimes you even find the scary things sexy. 

Eventually you learned the real reasoning behind his mask, behind the skeleton head that hid his face. Honestly, you were intrigued by it, his anonymity. But sometimes, it got in the way. 

“Blood type?” You’d asked, going through each soldier’s file as you became acquainted, some months ago now. 

“Unknown.” Your colleague responded. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“We have little to no information on Ghost’s background.” 

“What if he starts to bleed out? Or needs a blood transfusion?” 

“Guess I’ll die.” Came his gruff response. 

Spinning around in your small and circular wheeled chair, you saw his bulky body taking up the majority on the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest while leaning against the frame. 

Why is she so interested in me? He’d wondered, suspicious of you. What he should’ve been asking himself is, why am I so interested in her? 

He’d seen you work on his team, you were efficient and clean. He’d even go so far as to call you fearless. And surprisingly, he finds himself liking that. You were a bit of a brat, but at the heart of your teasing jokes, there was a sense of playful familiarity. And overall, having you around was good for his men. He didn’t know how vital you were to his team, though, until you had to be flown in to rescue him. 

Pressing into his wound, you didn’t even feel him flinch. The gauze was soaked in the red stain seeping from the cut in his skin, and you were running out of supplies - you were running out of time. And apparently, your frantic nature showed. 

“Hey,” You direct your sternest voice at him. “Ghost - Simon, eyes on me.” 

He’s spiraling; body feeling light and his consciousness leaving you quickly. His eyelids are fluttering. 

“You worried about me, love?” He was out of it, losing blood and flirting while in his hazy state. It was the first time he’d ever been nice to you. 

But really, he wasn’t just being nice because his body was going into shock and losing his grip on reality. He was talking to you this way because he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to after this. 

Giggling, you shook your head, happy that he was now responding to you. “Nah, big boy like you?” Patting his shoulder, you said, “You’ll be just fine.”

Even if he didn’t show it, Simon was worried, too. 

“But I bet you wish you’d told me your blood type now.” 

He wasn’t happy. Simon didn’t ever seem that happy, but right now, he definitely wasn’t happy. All he’s ever known is a military lifestyle, training and being out in the field. Having his team’s back, contributing to the work effort, that’s what he was best at. And now, he can’t do any of that. At least, not for the next couple weeks. 

“I’m not a child.”

“Never said you were.” Rolling your eyes, you openly sass him. “It’s just a blanket.” 

It was the first day of him being in your mini infirmary, just the two took up the room. Each of the boys came in to give him a pat on the shoulder, make sure he was doing alright. But in all honesty, Ghost hated this kind of attention. Being coddled and cared for. He could take care of himself. 

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” He grunts, looking away almost childishly. 

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go get some pizza.” 

At this, he perks up a bit, groaning. “Can you bring me back a box?” Mumbling, he’s still looking away.

Before you leave, you turn back around with a grin. “Sure thing, big boy.” 

Once you’re finally gone, he sighs, his emotions contradicting each other inside. Frustration doesn’t even come close to what he’s feeling. He never gets injured in the field. Is he losing his touch? Surely not, he’s still in his glory years. For him, it’s embarrassing to be seen like this, not just in front of the boys but in front of you, though he’d never admit it. You make him feel nervous inside, like he has to heighten the man he already knows himself to be. He has to be tougher around you; he can’t show any weakness. The only problem with that, was that he did have a weakness, a major one. That gaping hole in his chest. 

“Alright,” Coming back with two boxes of pizza, you set them on your desk, moving them to the side. “Let’s clean you up.” 

“I can do it myself.” 

“Okay, look.” Wiping your hands off of your pants, you turn to face him. “This is my job. Would you get angry at Soap for clearing a room before you? Or Price for conducting an infiltration route?” 

This makes him stop, closing his mouth for a moment, although you can’t see it. 

“I’m part of your team, you have to acknowledge that. Your job is to kill bad guys, and my job,” Taking a few steps toward him, you point to his chest. “Is to fix the mess the bad guys make.” 

Ghost shifts his shoulders, looking away from you for just a second. And after a moment, his eyes return to yours, and he nods. 

Reaching down, he cracks the knuckles on his hands, and it takes everything in you not to break his eye contact. Every movement of his muscles makes you sweat, the ripples of them more than a beautiful sight. He’s impressive. All he has on right now are a pair of shorts and a bandage wrapped around his upper chest. Other than that, he’s bare. You can see the muscles in his abdomen, the impressive form and firmness of them, the bulges of his biceps and the chorded muscle in his forearms. His legs are thick, huge, sturdy enough to hold his entire weight along with two other men, if need be. Again, impressive.

Satisfied with his nonverbal response, you turn to grab the essentials. Pulling over a small, wheeled tray, you begin your work. Ghost sits up off the back of the bed for you, allowing you to remove the bandages around his chest. He maneuvers himself to sit cross-legged while you do it, his head tilted down to watch you work.

Truthfully, Simon thought you were attractive the moment he saw you. And then you made fun of him. But when he balled up his fists, when he inhaled that sharp breath as a reaction, it wasn’t because he was mad at you. It was because right then and there, he was attracted to you. 

“You ever been stabbed like this before?” 

He doesn’t answer for a minute, not really wanting to admit it. But then he shakes his head. “No.” 

This tells you something, it tells you that you’re tending to the worst injury he’s ever had. And you’re shocked by his answer, you would’ve assumed he’s had worse. But a stab to the chest that just barely misses the heart? Yeah, that’s pretty bad. 

He doesn’t budge when you apply the antiseptic, allowing you to work in peace. Once you’ve cleaned the wound, he’s surprised to feel your hands. His eyes widen while keeping his gaze on you, watching as your fingertips explore him. They move across his chest, just barely gliding over his skin. 

“Doesn’t look too bad.” You murmur to him, eyes trained on his chest. 

Ghost is undeniably the fittest out of the entire team. He’s huge, and not just in height. You haven’t seen his naked torso since the day he was stabbed, and when you were tending to him then, you definitely weren’t thinking about how attracted you were to him. You were working to save his life. But now, you have time to let your thoughts wander, to let yourself experience what he feels like. 

Trailing down a bit, your fingers graze over his abdominal muscles, your tongue briefly sliding across your lower lip. His muscles are firm, smooth, and warm. Your touch makes him feel uncertain; he doesn’t know what you’re doing, but it’s making him nervous. Well, not nervous, necessarily but… excited. 

“What happened to you being nice to me, huh?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. And the smile you offer is pretty. “Thought you’d be my best friend after I saved your life.”

This makes him laugh, a small grunt coming out toward the end from his injury. You’re right, he should be nicer to you considering the circumstance. He should also be nicer to you because, well… he fancies you. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally acknowledges, albeit quietly. “I know I’ve been acting… standoffish.” 

“It’s okay,” Shrugging, you reach for the clean bandages. “I get it, you’re embarrassed.” 

Sighing, he looks down at your nimble hands again. “Yeah.” 

“Let’s get your blood pressure before you eat.” You then tell him, changing the topic while retrieving your tools. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” Glancing up at him, you grin. “I promise.” 

Right now, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone. You’re nice company. 

Attaching the cuff over his bicep is a feat in and of itself. His muscles stretch the fabric, but it ends up securing around him adequately. You then take your stethoscope, applying it to his inner elbow while you begin pumping the meter. Glancing up at the machine, you focus on the readings, and absentmindedly, your hand wanders. While continuing to record his data, your free hand slides down his arm and into his palm as you steady yourself beside him. 

Widening those pretty brown eyes, he releases a breath, now looking further down. He’s surprised, but honestly, it feels nice. Makes him relax. And while staring at your smaller hand now resting in his, he inhales deeply, curling his fingers slightly around your hand. This makes your head snap to the side, having not fully realized what you’d done. But Ghost doesn’t move when you look at him; he does stare at you though, right into your eyes. And while keeping your gaze, he lightly squeezes your hand. He really is sorry. He’s grateful.

The days following the first are actually pretty nice. With your main focus on Ghost, the rest of the crew seem to leave you alone for the time being. 

“You’ve been a big help lately.”

“What?” Comes that thick, English accent. “I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass.”

“Yeah, but it keeps them,” Pointing out into the training yard, you finish, “Off my ass.” 

Turning, he stretches, watching his team run around and lift weights on the field behind him, only a window separating them. 

“It’s like I told you, sweetheart.” His head then moves, returning his gaze to you. “You’re the finest thing they’ve seen in months.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You tease. “What about you?” 

Since he’s been nicer, you’ve been spending more time at his side. You didn’t need to sleep here, he was fine by himself, but after that first night, you did. You couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about him all alone in the infirmary while you lay cozied up in bed made you sad. You didn’t want him to get lonely. So, you slept on the small loveseat in the corner, the one the boys usually sit on to smoke. And your sleepovers were starting to make you close, that sweet little nickname being evidence of that.

“What about me?” Under his mask, his face heats up. He knows what you’re asking.  

“Am I the finest thing you’ve seen in months?”

Under that skull-painted cover, he grins, giving you a single nod. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, Ghost,” Walking over to him, you lean into his bicep, clutching it. “I knew you’d eventually fall in love with me.”

Rolling his eyes, he grumbles with an amused tone, “A pretty big pain in my ass.”

After he says this, you laugh, pushing yourself off of him. 

“Bones?” Your comm link buzzes slightly, a bit of static coming through. 

Pressing your button, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s up?” 

“Searg. is calling a meeting.”

“Time?”

“Eighteen hundred.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” 

“Bones?”

Once your conversation has ended, another one promptly begins. Lifting your head to face him, you raise a brow. “Yeah?” 

Ghost tilts his head to the side slightly, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Never heard anyone call you that.”

“Yeah, well you’re not on my med. team.” 

“Well, you’re on my team, aren’t you?”

Giving him a thoughtful pout, you eventually answer with, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“Then we should know your cover.” His voice is stern and gritty, deep and rumbling. It’s like how he talks out in the field. 

“Well, now you do.” Giving him a quick wink, you turn away, intent on doing some paperwork before your meeting. 

“What’s the meaning of it?” When you don’t immediately answer, he calls for you. “Bones?”

Something about him using your code name makes you grin. 

“I’m known for breaking them.” Turning, you face him once again, a smile plastered across your smooth lips. 

“Known for breaking bones?” He clarifies, sounding skeptical. 

“Yep.”

“Huh,” He scoffs, “That’s not exactly something to boast about, is it?” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be if they were mine.” 

Oh, now he gets it. 

“I did a lot more than sew up wounds before I came here.” With a heavy sigh, you reminisce on your time in the field. But you made a choice to be here. “I used to break them, now I heal them.” 

He never knew. And honestly, this new information only makes him more attracted to you. A badass soldier with a gentle touch? Sounds like his kind of woman. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You emphasize, “I’ve got some paperwork to do.” 

“Fine.” He returns flatly, and you giggle. He really sounds upset about that abrupt ending. 

“Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Won’t be a problem.” He grunts, shimmying to lay back down. “I’ll just sleep.” 

Throughout your hours spent together, you’ve discovered that he’s quite the fan of naps. He takes one every day around three in the afternoon, and you wonder if he’s finally enjoying his rest. It doesn’t help that you often have to leave him while he’s sleeping, though. You’ve liked being by his side lately, it’s comforting. His presence has begun to grow quite kind, and even in the quiet times, it’s nice. But you still have meetings and other duties to tend to. Which include the one you’d been called to. 

Ghost’s gentle snore is what prompts you to look up, your eyes searching for his own. But they’re closed, one arm propped behind his head with his other hand laying over his stomach. He’s fully laying on the bed, the blanket only covering up to his waist. He’s still shirtless, and right now, he looks practically naked. Aside from the mask. Eyes trailing up his form, you take in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the light-colored hairs scattering his pectorals, and even further down, leading from his belly button to the hem of his pants. It makes you sigh, he looks peaceful. You’ve never seen him so relaxed. 

You don’t like the thought of him waking up to a room empty of you, so to make up for it, you head to the cafeteria. As quietly as you can, you return with a large pizza, one with his favorite toppings on it. Steak, mushrooms, onions, and two kinds of cheese, specifically provolone and American - strange and lengthy details, but ones you memorized, nonetheless. And after you set the box down, taking in another look of him, you turn to leave. 

Eventually, the smell wakes him up. How could it not? It’s his absolute favorite thing to eat. But he has to be careful, he needs to keep himself in shape over these couple of weeks, or he’ll need more training than originally planned. Sighing, he props himself up, the realization now setting in. 

She did this for me. 

He knows it was you and not the boys because of the little note on top of the box. 

Ghost, 

I’m at a meeting until six tonight, I’m sorry I probably won’t be around when you wake up. Here’s some pizza to make up for it. Hopefully you still love me <3

Bones

He rolls his eyes at that last part, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. You can be so sarcastic sometimes. But he likes it. You make him laugh. 

While you’re gone, Simon thinks about the way you take care of him. You’re so gentle with him when changing his bandages and cleaning his wound. Your smaller hands touch him so softly that it makes him feel things for you. He wonders, is he just interested in you because you’re the only woman around? Or is he interested in you because you’re funny? Because you’re nice? It’s because you’re such a tender caretaker and you remind him of all the love he never got in life. 

Looking back at the note, he reads it again. It sounds like you’d regretted leaving him, even for something as important as a medical staff meeting. Maybe you’ve been enjoying his company, too. 

When night rolls around, you snuggle up on the couch, pulling the blanket you’d grabbed from your cot over your shoulders. Ghost just stares at you, one leg laying flat on his bed with the other up, the sole of his foot planted on the mattress. 

“How the hell do you fit on that?”

Shrugging, you answer with, “It’s easy to fit in places when you’re not an enormous tank.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You should,” Smirking, you can just barely see his eyes in the darkness. Those nearly black orbs find your own, and it makes your chest tighten. “I like the way you’re built.” 

He chuckles, amused. “Yeah?” And then he reaches for a pack of cigarettes next to his bed, lifting the edge of his mask. “Why’s that, love?” That word makes the skin on your face burn. 

You get a small flash of his face when he lights the end of his cig with a match, and you notice something you’ve never seen before. 

“What’s that scar from?” It just comes out on its own. He knows you’re talking about the one on his jaw. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” He points out, taking a puff. And for some reason, you find that so hot. 

“I’ll answer it if you answer mine.” 

Sometimes, you aggravate him. Sighing, he speaks through the darkness, telling you, “Fine.” 

A sly grin crosses your face on the other side of the room, and you wonder if he can see it. He can. 

“I like men with muscles.” And he likes that answer. “Makes me feel like they can take care of me.” 

He exhales calmly into the nighttime air between the two of you, pressing his lips to the cigarette and then inhaling once again. Ghost knows he could take care of you. 

And then he thinks about his own response, settling with, “It came from a knife.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “You gotta tell me more than that.” 

Flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a tray, he lays back a little on the bed. “It was a mission in the Middle East. Bloody heat was killing me, I had to lift my mask up.” 

Oh, wow. Honestly, you were just kidding. You never thought he’d actually tell you anything more. But you take this chance and run with it, listening intently so you don’t miss a single piece of his story. 

“We were ambushed,” He continues, shaking his head. “Price never saw it coming.”

Truly, you can’t even imagine. Sure, you had your time in the field, but it was nothing compared to what he’s gone through. 

“We took them out, but not before one of them got to me with a knife. Sliced up my jaw.” Ghost exhales a puff of smoke, watching it billow into the air. Then he gently shakes his head. “Didn’t let him get any further ‘n that.” 

By the end of the story, his voice has grown flat. Maybe he doesn’t like thinking about his scars. Maybe it’s why he keeps the mask on. 

“Could I… could I see?”

“My scar?” Comes his instant response. “What for?” 

“I dunno,” Shrugging in the dimly lit light, you glance down at the floor. A timid gesture that he again sees. 

After a moment of silence, he figures, what the hell? Having you be close to his face didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Besides, he likes getting a good look at you. Finishing off his cigarette and rubbing the butt of it down into the tray beside him, he says, “Why not?” 

Looking up, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I don't have to. I don’t even know why I asked.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Come over here, doll.” 

Almost giddily, you do, shoving your blanket to the side and popping up onto your feet. He chuckles deeply upon seeing your reaction, watching you scamper over to him. 

“You’re excited about this, huh?”

Shrugging, you grin, standing right next to his bed. “Maybe.”

You don’t give a single shit about his scar. You want to see him. Being close to Ghost gives you a good feeling. 

Leaning over, you turn on your desk lamp, illuminating this corner of the room. And when you come back to him, you’re met with the incredible sight of his eyes. They’re dark brown in shade, but in the dim light, they're a dazzling pool of honey. But what really catches your eye is the lower half of his face. His mask is still pulled up, revealing his mouth, chin, and jaw. 

“Can I touch?” You then ask, keeping your voice quiet. 

He eyes you up and down while your gaze is fixated on his mouth. His lips curl, and he nods. “Sure.” 

Lifting your hands, they fall to either side of his face. When you make contact with him, he closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, accepting your touch. He can’t remember the last time he let someone do this. 

“Hm…” You don’t mean to, but you hum, fingers trailing along his jawline and chin. He has stubble here, just barely. It seems like when he’s crept away to the showers at night, he’s shaved. 

Ghost’s eyes trail across your face, feeling your breath on his skin. You’re closer than you ever have been before, and it makes the muscles in his chest tighten, makes his pulse quicken. Licking his lower lip, he whispers, “How’s that feel?” 

“Good.” You respond, nodding, your eyes not once leaving his mouth. “I like it.”

“Why’d you want to feel it?” He then wonders aloud, and he wishes you would look up at him. He wants to look into your sweet eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough scars in your lifetime?” 

“I don’t really care about scars.”

What the hell?

Scrunching his brow, he then asks, “Then why the hell did you want to see mine?”

Now, you do look up into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you work up the nerve to say what’s floating through your mind. “Because it’s on you.”  

Immediately, he swallows. His gaze falls to your mouth for the first time since you’ve been this close, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your now slightly parted lips. And all at once, he sits up a bit straighter, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.

As if you’re expecting it, you melt into him, letting him press you to his body. The fingertips on his jaw slide along his cheeks as you move to fully hold his face in your hands, Ghost’s lips easily meeting your own. One large arm slides around your back, hand securing to your waist as he pulls you further into him. 

Heartbeat pounding in your veins, you gasp quietly against him, molding your mouth to his as you return his enthusiasm. Your hands hold onto him tightly, sliding down to the back of his neck. But then he stops, releasing a rough sigh and opening his eyes to look at you. 

“Come here,” He whispers hurriedly, his other hand reaching out and tugging on you. 

“Ghost, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” His lips are moving over your jaw, his hands still pulling on you. 

“You’re healing.” 

Scoffing, he leans over the side of the bed, hands securing themselves to your lower back and upper thigh. He then hauls you forward, leaning down so he can hoist you up onto his lap.

“Oh!” 

“I go back into the field next week.” He grunts out, now looking up at you. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

“Ghost, I -”

“You know my name?” He asks, his rough, baritone voice demanding your attention. 

And suddenly, you feel extremely fucking small. Your legs slide forward and down, straddling him. Quietly, you squeak out, “Yes.” 

“Say it.” 

Leaning forward, you embrace the excitement of being on top of him. Your hands return to hold his face, and he lets you. Bringing yourself in close, you look into his eyes. 

“Simon.” 

“That’s right.” Comes his breathy exhale, leaning in to close the small gap between the two of you. 

And then Simon’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you further into him. His other lands on your hip, fingers curling around your flesh. He smells like cigarettes and cologne, tastes like mint and tobacco. And you overtly, eagerly, wholeheartedly, welcome him. 

“Closer to me,” Simon grumbles, the hand on your hip curling around your lower back. He pulls you until you’re flush against his chest, your breasts pushing up against his clean bandages. 

“Simon,” 

He groans into your mouth when you use his name, repeatedly moving his lips over your own. Your legs press tightly to the outsides of his thighs, holding him close to your body. And when he feels your hips shift against him, when he hears your soft, delicate moan, he decides to slide his tongue into your mouth. He licks inside, rubbing the wet muscle over your own. Moaning wantonly, it echoes into his throat, the hand on your head sliding down to hold your jaw open. The way he moves against your mouth is almost overwhelming, full of passion and lust and a particular sense of need. 

“You wanna take this off for me?” His accent is making you melt. “Can you do that for me, love?” 

Tugging impatiently on your shirt, those frosty eyes look into your own with a look of utter desperation. But also control. Ghost was always in control. 

Nodding, you reach down, finding the edges of your longsleeve shirt and slipping it up and over your head. 

“Oh…” He moans - Ghost fucking moans. His head immediately dips down to the luscious space between your breasts, mouth finding your skin. 

“Oh,” It comes as a complete surprise, him surging down to kiss you here. “Simon…”

Fuck, you’ve wanted to do this since you met him. You both have. 

His mouth drags along the curves of your chest, and you’re surprised when they’re followed by tender kisses. And then his hands drop, groping your ass. 

“I want you.” He growls against your breasts, nipping at the soft slopes of them. “What do you want, love?” 

“I want you, Simon.” Nodding quickly, your hands slide back up to his face. In your hurried state you accidentally move the fabric of his mask just a bit, and his hands come flying up to your forearms as soon as it happens. 

“Don’t take it off.” It’s a firm boundary, a stern warning. His head lifts, too, eyes staring menacingly into you. 

“I wouldn’t, I won’t.” He looks at you almost skeptically. “I respect your privacy.” 

When he doesn’t budge, you wiggle on top of him. “Please. Simon, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” 

Slowly, his hands leave your forearms, loosening their grasp. He’s deciding to trust you. 

One of those meaty hands falls to your chest, still holding your gaze while he cups you. The other rises to your neck, fingers curling around the back to pull you in again. This time, though, he doesn’t return to your lips. This time, he goes to your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you let him, feeling Simon’s teeth scrape along your skin. He’s feeling every inch of you that he can, hands falling to your ass when he feels you move over him. With a firm grasp, he urges you forward and back, grinding your covered crotch over his own. And while he’s busy exploring you, you take this opportunity to explore him. 

Delicately, your fingertips slide down his face, down the chorded muscles along his neck, landing on his sculpted shoulders and then moving to his biceps. When you squeeze the thick meat of his arms, he groans, smirking mischievously against you. With your nails scraping lightly over his taut skin, they quickly find his back, gently scratching him. His muscles are flexing, damn near all of them. He’s so worked up with you like this on top of him. And he’s still moving you, shoving your hips over his crotch and manhandling you in the softest way he knows how. He’s strong, but he’s gentle with you. 

The length of him is palpable beneath his thin shorts, settling right into your covered folds. And it makes you moan, makes your breaths pick up and your center pulse. The air is thick with arousal, the room lit dimly in the soft, yellow hue of your small lamp. His breaths are hot, fanning across your face in humid and heavy wafts. But then he stops, taking a breath. And for some reason, your sass decides to fill this brief, empty space. 

“So,” Sighing, you’re also working to catch your breath. “Does this mean you think I’m pretty?” 

He chuckles, that beautiful smile making itself known. “Does this mean you like my muscles?”

“I love your muscles.” Wiggling even closer to him, you grin, sucking in a tight and excited breath. Your one hand then slides down his chest, his abs, curling around to hold his hip, your thumb just barely brushing his pelvis. 

“Yeah? Even when you’re sewing ‘em up?” He asks, that deliciously rich accent making you flutter inside. 

“You can’t do that again.” Shaking your head, your hands move to hold his face. It’s a tender act. “You can’t scare us like that again.” 

That night, you swear you started to see the light fade out of his eyes, and that, well… that was a first for you. You saved Simon’s life. 

“You care about me, eh?” He replies in the cockiest voice.

“Your team cares about you.” Eyes flickering down to the bandages on his chest, you then say, “And yeah, maybe I do, too.” 

Simon’s body flexes beneath you, hips rutting up into your own. And now, it’s his turn to hold your face in his hands. He lifts your jaw, making you look at him. 

“Hey, don’t worry about that now.” 

“Are you okay?” Eyes darting back up to his, they’re filled with concern from the memories of that day. “With me sitting like this on you?” 

He gives you a cocky grin. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big boy, remember?” 

This makes you smirk, one hand finding its way to his pelvis with much more confidence than before. “Is that right?” 

“That’s right.” He nods, keeping that gorgeous grin. “Think you wanna take it?”

Breathing out a small laugh, you give your head a single shake. “I never knew you wanted to fuck me so bad.” 

“You never noticed the things I’ve said to you?”

“No, I noticed. I just thought… maybe it was harmless flirting.” 

At this, his head tilts, eyes boring into your kind orbs. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me harmless in my entire life.” 

“Yeah, you’re one scary motherfucker.” Leaning in to kiss him, he accepts it with a heated moan. “And I find that sexy as hell.” 

“Well, you said you like fixing bones.” He’s feeling desperate for you at this point; it’s like you won’t stop teasing him “Hop on this one, then.”

“Oh my god, you really are like every other fucking guy.” But you’re already reaching for the bottom of your sports bra, slipping it off your torso in one go. 

“God damn.” Large hands instantly return to your breasts, cupping and weighing your tits in his palms. His chest dips dramatically from releasing such a heavy breath, leaning in to kiss one of your delicate peaks. It’s firm and wet, the repeated press of his lips. And it wouldn’t be so overwhelming if he wasn’t practically making out with your tits.

Seeing your naked form for the first time sets his own alight. He always knew you were a sexy little thing, and now, he’s got first hand proof. Your curves look delicious, and if he weren’t in a tiny medical bed, he’d lay you down to lick them. 

“You want me?” He doesn’t expect this sort of response, his surprise going tenfold when he feels you reach down between your bodies. 

“Oh,” He releases a tight breath, feeling you run a finger over his erection. 

Staring into your eyes, he gives you an almost predatory gaze. “You know I do.”

Easily, you slide your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your delicate sex to him, though he can only barely see it. And then you’re reaching down, fingers curling over the band of his shorts to pull him out. When you do, he releases a sound you’ve never heard from him before, his jaw hanging low. He’s long and firm, crimson at the head and already leaking. The pulsations rocking through his cock are, at this point, an almost painful sensation; and when you look down, you grin. Letting the length of him rest on his lower abdomen, you move yourself so you can slide your glistening lips over him.

Simon hisses at the contact, strong hands cementing themselves to your hips. But he doesn’t stop you from moving. If anything, he only encourages you to. 

“You get off on this?” He suddenly asks, the feeling of your slippery center sliding against him making his head spin and his insides tense. “Fucking your superior?”

“Baby,” You laugh, shaking your head while continuing to move over him. “I’m on the med. team, you’re not my superior.” Taking a breath, you reach out, grabbing his jaw and lowering your voice to speak. “But you did get one thing right. I do want to fuck you.” 

Before he can say anything, you’re lifting yourself, his throbbing tip prodding at your entrance. You hold his gaze, an unexpected moan drifting from your lips when you finally begin to feel him. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, fingers digging into your sides and urging you down. “Come on, precious. You can take it.” 

Sliding down only a few mere inches, you wince. Holding onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into his skin, scratching harshly at the firm muscles all along him. He’s bigger than you’d imagined him to be. His girth is wider than you’ve ever had, and when you reach down to feel him you quickly discover he also isn’t lacking in length. 

His military voice then comes out, that stern, commanding tone. “Focus - hey, eyes on me.” Irises snapping up to his, you do as you’re told. “That’s a good girl.” Jesus Christ, you didn’t expect a single ounce of praise to come from him.

Simon’s dominant hand then slides down, the pad of his thumb finding the reddened nub at the peak of your sex. Your hips jolt when he presses the thick digit against you, but with his free hand on your back, he brings you in. He applies pressure, prompting you to lean on him, his mouth seeking out your nipples once again. Slipping his tongue out and over your skin, it forces you to whine, feeling your hips rock involuntarily against him. With the stimulation coming from his thumb and tongue, you find yourself relaxing, resting on the weight of him. 

“Feels good, yeah?” 

Your fingers find the back of his head, your own dropping back. “Yes…” 

It’s overwhelming and sexy as all fucking hell. Simon can see the marks he’s left on your neck, shoulder and chest, and he grins, knowing they’ll be there in the morning even if he won’t be able to see them. He doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb, keeping the same amount of pressure as he swirls little circles over your sensitive clit. His mouth is sucking on you, too, his tongue running over your nipples in wet and passionate swipes. And altogether, it works like a charm, lubing you up enough for him to slide entirely inside. 

“Simon.” 

“You’ve got it, yeah… there we go…” The only hand that moves is the one that was touching your clit, fingers now attaching themselves to your hip once you’re entirely seated on him. 

“Fuck me,” You’re clinging to his shoulders, both arms wrapping around his neck. He’s removed himself from your tits, resting his face in the slope of your shoulder, just beside your throat. 

He’s searing hot and filling you completely, his tip seated deep in your guts as you pulse around him violently. And Simon’s aware of his size, so he waits for you to make the first move. And he snuggles into you while he does, resting in this brief lull. 

Feeling another person surrounding his body like this brings out a sensation from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in genuine years, decades, even. He feels like he can relax in your embrace, like he can let go with you. 

“Oh, god.” Head dropping back, you shift slightly, beginning to move. 

“Yes,” He encourages you, reaching up to hold your neck. “That’s it.” And then he pulls, bringing you down to him. Your lips meet in a small clash, tongues colliding as soon as you make contact. 

This entire event awakens something inside of you. It’s like he’s consuming you, taking over your body and every part of your mind. And you’ve felt like this for weeks, months; you’ve ached for him. At night you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, and during the day, you’ve dreamt about him. It was so hard to be in his presence, knowing you couldn’t have him, that he probably didn’t even want you in the first place. But he does; he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

Simon sways his body with you, leaning back against the head of the bed. He uses this slight change in position as leverage to shove his hips up into you, giving you small and shallow thrusts. But he lets you do most of the work, grinning while admiring the way in which you find your pace. 

“You’re a tight thing, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, eyes lowering to stare at the space where you’re repeatedly connecting. And then they furrow, mouth dropping open when he finally witnesses you lifting and lowering your hips. “And look how well you’re taking me…” 

“You’re… so fucking big.” Lowering your head, you then offer a half smirk, shaking your head at him. “Guess you really do have reason to be cocky, huh?” 

“Damn right, and I’m glad you know it.” 

“Jesus - fuck!” The first word is said through a scoff, the second through a high yelp. 

“You feel like makin’ fun of me again?” Simon then challenges, having lifted his feet and planted them directly on the edge of the bed. He uses this leverage to punch himself up into you, huffing out a sharp breath when he feels you fall onto his chest.

“Fuck, baby - I’m sorry.” You immediately lift yourself up, looking down at his bandages. “Are you alright?”

The fact that you’ve so easily been able to call him baby makes Simon smile, his teeth even showing for the first time that you’ve ever seen.

“You need to stop asking me that.” He says in that deeply, gritty tone. And then he shoves you forward again, knees high in the air as he lets you rest over his chest. 

Your arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as he begins to shove himself up into you. Sucking in a deep breath, he grunts out beside your face, his arms wrapping around your naked torso. He’s starting to feel sweaty, sticky, his skin warm and glistening. And at this point he’s bouncing you on his cock, your ass slapping down onto his pelvis with every move. He let you have your fun; now, he’s fucking you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You’re trying desperately to keep up to move yourself back against him, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s punching the breath from your lungs, one hand sliding up your back to hold your head. 

He lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you alright?”

“S-Shut up, Ghost.” Comes your stuttered response, now gasping from how deep he’s hitting.

“Uh-uh,” He tuts, “Say my name, sweetheart. Sounds so good comin’ outta that pretty little mouth.”

This makes you laugh, a small hiccup of a sound due to his intense movements beneath you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, wanna hear you say it when we fuck.” 

“Oh, so this is going to happen again?” You tease, feeling his groans vibrate through his chest. Jesus, he’s so sturdy. 

Leaning forward, he grabs a fistful of your ass, growling into your ear, “I damn sure want it to.” 

You take advantage of his closeness, turning your head to capture his lips. “You’re so fucking deep.” 

“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He whispers in return against your lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

At this point, he’s panting beneath you, sliding down a little further on the bed. You move with him, still holding onto his firm body with a wild desperation. And he keeps your lips on him, shoving his tongue inside your mouth while keeping his brutal pace.

If you were dripping before it’s nothing compared to now. You’re leaking down his shaft, the creaminess of your arousal coating him entirely. And he can feel it; it’s making his eyes roll back into his head. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, squeezin’ around me like that.” 

One of your hands lowers, moving down to hold onto his bicep, and then his forearm. Turning your head to the side, you smile, ignoring his comment while you breathe out lightly, “I love your tattoos, baby.”

“You just love praisin’ me, don’t you?” In two seconds, that tattooed forearm rises, hand grabbing your face. “Bring those pretty eyes back to me.” And when you look into those endlessly deep eyes of his, he grits out sternly, “Eyes. On. Me.” 

“Simon,” It’s a small whine, one uttered when you feel him strike gold inside. “Please make me cum.” Your head drops to his shoulder, and what he does neck surprises you. He kisses your fucking cheek.

“I can do that for you.” 

As if things couldn’t become more intense, he takes it up a notch, ramming into you and forcing your face into the crook of his neck. His hand on the back of your head holds you there, and when you bite into his neck, he groans into the nighttime air. 

“Yesss, baby, don’t stop. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” He’s so big beneath you, his muscles bulging against your naked chest. And he revels in the feeling of your soft tits pressing against him, your beautiful body bouncing as it gets fucked by him. 

“Fuck me,” Comes his gasped out curse, muttering, “Such a good pussy.” 

“Fu-uck,” 

He’s pounding against that delicate spot that’s making you go dumb, your arms and thighs beginning to shake around him.

“G-Ghost, I’m…” 

“Say my name, say it again.” His voice is deep and thick, stuttering a bit. “One more time for me.” His thighs are flexing beneath your ass, one arm wrapped around your back and the other gripping the flesh on your hip.

It’s overwhelming, the feeling shoving its way through your body, coursing through your veins. The excitement of it all is something you haven’t felt in too long of a time, if ever before. Swallowing, you gather yourself enough to do as he says, once again, uttering his name. 

Immediately after, he’s cumming, hips breaking their pace and length throbbing inside you. His forceful shoves against your g-spot make you crumble above him, onto him, your body shaking. The way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he can do anything, makes him think you feel safe with him. And you do. The world could be crumbling and still, you’d cling to him, knowing he’d hold you in his arms. 

Quivering limbs press against him, your body going a bit numb from the intensity of it all. Your center pulses around his girth, squeezing him tightly while you wash him in your arousal. You can feel his, too, the milky ropes shooting into you, and you revel in the fact that your body has made his feel this good. He’s breathing harshly beside you, pectorals flexing against your naked chest. You’ve never heard him groan so forcefully, not even when he’s out working. And that makes you smile, knowing you bring those noises out of him. A blissful smile crosses your face, body rolling in waves as you experience your own high above him. 

“Fuck me,” His accent is thick, coating the shell of your ear. He’s petting at your hair, body beginning to slump down on the mattress beneath him. “You okay there, princess?”

You’re quiet, still trying desperately to find your breath. Swallowing, you nod, turning your head to kiss his throat, breathing heavily against him. And while his body relaxes, he holds yours above him, urging you to do the same. 

“Maybe I should get hurt a little more often,” He looks over, pointer finger curling under your chin, gently lifting you to look at him. “If it means seein’ you.” 

Part Two

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 06: true & misunderstandings

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a while, filling their bubble with a silence so long that Steve’s entire being re-centres itself around Eddie’s hand in his, focusing on the warmth, on each minute twitch, and on the way his thumb aches to move and stroke the back of Eddie’s hand. 

A silence that is disrupted in the gentlest of ways when Eddie, trembling just as much as Steve, says, “I love you.” 

Steve blinks, not entirely sure for a second or two if he heard that right, or if that was just another thought his own, pressing and urgent and so, so real. 

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie says again, and Steve is sure that he didn’t imagine it this time — but that doesn’t make it make sense. It doesn’t feel real. Eddie sounds so sad about it, too, like he is confessing to Steve a crime that has been weighing him down forever, something that he can’t be redeemed from. 

It makes the dam break, the image of loving him as an irredeemable act, an unforgivable crime, a sin irremissible. Years and years of learning how to be in love with Eddie and not being too much, learning not let that consume him — years and years of trying and failing — all come crashing now as he hears that sad little voice. 

Steve as the one who’s in the way of Eddie having a good life, a great life, a happy little bubble for himself in a world that used to be so cruel to him. Steve as the one who makes Eddie so incredibly, unbearably dejected. 

It eats away at him, tears away at his soul so much that he barely even registers the words that belong to the sad, sad voice. 

I’m sorry, he wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat; and Eddie asked him to listen. 

“It’s always been you, Steve. To me, it’s… You’re it. Always have been. But I had to move on, you know? After years, I just… God.” 

Eddie’s collecting himself, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the right words that are slowly trickling through the fog in Steve’s mind and settle just behind his stinging eyes. 

“Remember when I told you I used to have a crush on you? Years ago. And how that was all in the past, and that I had moved on? Well,” he huffs, nerves wracking through him as he squeezes Steve’s hand repeatedly. “Turns out, not so much. Don’t think it ever will be. But I thought, you know, I thought I was past the stage where it consumed me. Because you were still in my life, still right there, still happy, happier than I think I could make you, and… You were there. Still. After all those years, you were the one thing I hadn’t ruined. and I couldn’t tell you. I had Chrissy, I was— I was getting over you. I could breathe again, I could love again. But not… Not with everything I have, because that’s still with you. Only with you.” 

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, his hand shaking now, and Steve wants to let go, wants to turn around and wrap himself around Eddie, hold him, his face pressed to the back of Eddie’s neck as he listens, feeling those vibrations in his cheeks as he talks. 

He doesn’t. He stays right where he is, but the urge is becoming stronger and stronger. 

Eddie loves him. And he sounds like he is about to cry because of it. Steve still wants to apologise.

A sniffle. “Chrissy knows. She said she’s the same, that she has a person like that, too. I never expected to love her as much as I do, but it’s a… It’s a different kind of love. And if I got to spend the rest of my days with her, life would be good, you know? Like you said about Robin. She said the same, said we’re doing the right thing. But—” 

Eddie stops here, his voice growing hoarse and his breath hitching a little as if he’s holding back tears. Steve wipes away his own. 

“But I don’t want a world where losing you is the right thing, Stevie.” 

They both let out a sob at that, the weight of Eddie’s words settling inside Steve as he becomes aware of what Eddie is saying. Of what he is doing. 

What are you doing? 

Changing the world. 

“I’ve done everything,” Eddie continues, purely and utterly heartbroken. “Everything, to get over you. And it seems that I did it so well, because now I’m losing you. And it seems like I got it all wrong, too, because— Because I don’t wanna lose you. I don’t ever wanna lose you. But you have to know. I need you to know that I’m so in love with you I can barely even breathe. Or, or think. When you’re there, but especially when you’re gone. Loving you is part of who I am. It’s like, it’s like a rule in the universe, you know. A law of nature. Simple biology, like you’re the sunshine and I’m a measly dandelion, and there’s so much more of me because of you. And when you’re gone, then so am I.”

Eddie’s crying now, and Steve pulls his knees to his chest, burying his face in them to hide he way he’s falling apart. Because this is not happening. 

“And if you wanna leave, if I’ve done something you can’t live with, that’s— I won’t stop you. But please, I would just… I’d like to understand, Stevie. Because I love you. So much and for so long that I know I will never stop. It's just what I do in this life. And if I’m gonna have to stop, I need to know why.” A beat. “Please?” 

There are no words coursing through Steve’s head as he tries and tries and tries to say something, anything. There is no, I love you. There is no, Because I can’t bear the thought of watching you live a life with someone else when all I ever do is imagine my life with you. 

There is no, Tell me why you love me. No, Tell me you love me. Say it again. 

All there is, all that comes out, is, “I’m sorry.” 

And behind him, Eddie’s shoulders fall. He slumps, just a little, but Steve can feel it in his tension-riddled body. 

Steve wants to scream. Wants to be brave like Eddie and bear his heart, because he loves him too! He loves him and maybe they can get it right, maybe their loves can match, maybe they can fix this. 

But all the words get stuck in his throat, because they have seven years of practice. 

“You don’t get to do this,” Eddie says quietly, just barely louder than a whisper, and Steve tears at himself from the inside out. “You don’t get to just… Say that. I’m sorry. Leaving me like that, after all of this. After everything? You’re sorry? No, fuck you, Stevie.” 

Eddie’s hand is still in his, his hold unwavering, as if he’s holding Steve in place. And he is. Eddie is an anchor, he’s the north star, he’s— fuck! 

“You’re everything,” Steve rasps after all, the dams broken and breaking, seven and more years of keeping the words to himself come flooding now. 

He turns around this time, freeing his hand from Eddie’s, who tries to hold him tighter for one second, two, three, before Steve’s head lands between his shoulder-blades and he finally allows Steve’s arms to come up around him. 

“You’re everything, Eddie, and when you told me you used to have a crush on me, I wanted to tell you that I’m right there with you. I wanted to tell you that, finally, finally I was right there with you.”

He says the words into the space between his heart and Eddie’s, feeling tremors underneath his hands. Breath is scarce as the air in his lungs is filled with Eddie once more, that familiar scent of him, everything about him; everything. 

“But then you weren’t there anymore, said it was all in the past, and I had missed my chance. But I didn’t care. Because, Eddie Munson, you’re impossible to un-love. It never stopped. Never, never stopped. And it was fine, it was fine. But then you got engaged. And I can’t watch you anymore, Ed. I can’t watch you be the happiest you’ve ever been and have it not be my fault. I can’t watch you live that life you’ve always hated, the life that I always imagined having with you. The life I thought you’d grow to love because of me. I love you, Eddie. But I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Underneath him, Eddie is still as Steve silently cries into the back of his t-shirt, clinging to him now, holding him. For one last time, maybe. 

Silence falls as they both just breathe air that’s filled with confessions and apologies. 

And then, eventually, after an eternity or two, Eddie says, “I’m not marrying Chrissy.” 

Steve’s heart stops, just for one second. He blinks. Swallows. Doesn’t dare to hope. “You’re not?” 

Eddie shakes his head, reaching for one of Steve’s hand where it’s splayed across his middle. “No. She, uhm. She said we shouldn’t. Said I should get my boy instead.”

“Wh— Why?” 

“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. “Because it’s you. And I… Tell me I’m not late again. Tell me I didn’t fuck it up again, tell me there’s a chance.” 

What are you doing? 

Changing the world. 

Steve lets out a breath, breathing out Eddie, unreasonably scared that if he lets go of the air in his lungs, Eddie will disappear again. Leave again. Get over him again, for real this time. 

“Is it true?” he asks instead of answering. 

“Is what true?” 

“What you said. That you love me. And that Chrissy knows. And that it’s fine. That it can be okay. That it… That we… I’m scared, Eddie.” 

“What are you scared of, Stevie?” A whisper, a question so gentle that Steve lets out a pathetic whimper as he tries not to cry again. 

“Me,” he says. “Fucking it up. Not making you happy. Not getting it right. Freezing like I always do, because it’s muscle memory. I’m— I don’t wanna make you sad, Eddie.” And you sound so sad. You already do. 

Eddie breathes deeply and moves his hand, lacing his fingers with Steve’s as he leans back slightly, further into Steve’s embrace. 

“It’s true,” he whispers. “All of that and more. And I’m scared, too. Because that’s not how I planned it, you know? Three in the morning with more tears than anything else, sounding and feeling like the world’s gonna end. You deserve a better love than that, Stevie, but… It’s sorta all I have, you know? If you’ll let me. If you want to. We can be scared together and figure out how to not be that anymore.” Eddie lifts their linked hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over Steve’s knuckles. “It’s all true.” 

Steve lets out the breath he was holding, sinking further into Eddie, holding him tighter. Daring to brush a kiss to the back of his neck — a featherlight one that is barely more than a touch of lips to overheated skin. It makes Eddie’s breath hitch, so he does it again.  

“Can you stay?” 

“Hm?”

“The night. Here, I mean. Can you stay here tonight? I wanna… Just wanna hold you for a bit. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, Stevie. That’s okay. Do you wanna go to bed?” 

He nods, still tightening his arms around Eddie, scared that he’ll leave. Scared to wake up if he moves. Scared to— Just scared. 

“Hey, I’ve got you, c’m’ere” Eddie whispers, somehow winding himself out of Steve’s hold and pulling him up to stand. 

And there, standing face to face with Eddie, everything is slowly starting to become real. The confessions. The broken dams, years and years of pent up tension, of hidden emotion and a yearning so deep it’s left scars, little ridges in his rib cage from where his heart has broken and healed and soared and burned and fluttered over and over and over again.

It has all come to this. Here. Eddie’s hands in his, his thumb stroking gentle patterns on Steve’s skin.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie whispers again, not moving. Only winding his arms around Steve’s shoulders when he leans in, tucking his head under Eddie’s chin, holding him tightly.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles against the crown of his head, Steve can feel it with everything he is. “Yeah?”

He nods, mirroring the smile he cannot see. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s get you to bed, yeah? We can talk more in the morning?”

It’s a question that makes Eddie sound so small, so insecure — like he half expects Steve to take it back, to run away again and leave him. It breaks his heart, what he put Eddie through. What he put himself through. What they have put themselves and each other through, inevitable as it was.

“Yeah,” he promises, taking Eddie’s hand again and leading him to the bedroom, blanket thrown over his shoulder. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. I think you’ll have to explain again.”

“I will. As often as you need.”

I know, Steve thinks. I know you will. I love you.

It still feels like a dream, falling asleep with Eddie in his arms. It still feels like it will burst the moment he makes a wrong move, the second he blinks too hard or breathes too long.

He’s still trembling a little, still reeling, still confused and tentative in his hope. But at least this time Eddie is with him, stroking his cheek like he, too, can’t believe that this is all real. Like he, too, is scared.

But maybe they can be scared together. Maybe they can make it work. Maybe their love can match.

For the first time in weeks, months, years, or even forever, Steve falls asleep with a smile on his face, his forehead pressed to Eddie’s.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar

come back tomorrow for a happy ending | read part 7 here

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Heavy Metal Lover

Karlach x F! Tav

18+ physical combat (consensual), so much teasing, public sex (kind of), manhandling, roughness, restraint, dom karlach/sub tav, strength kink, hand kink, size difference, fingering (f!), grinding, light choking, overstimulation, porn w/o plot

With her touch newly returned, Karlach is hungry for contact. Seeking out Tav for a little hand to hand combat that quickly turns heated...

Masterlist

-

Tav resisted rolling her eyes at Astarion's wide grin. That face meant only one thing, he was about to be insufferable about something.

"What?" She sighed, resigned to the incoming teasing.

"You haven't noticed, have you?" He purred, an indulgent edge of pre-emptive preening in his voice.

"Obviously not, if you're being this unbearable." She sniped flatly, turning back to hanging laundry on tip toes.

He slid his foot under the arch of her heel, biting at her teasingly when she turned to give him a glare. Baring her own absent fangs.

"Look real close now..." He pointed across camp to Karlach. She was trying to talk Wyll into sparring with her, him trying to wave her away good naturedly.

Tav roved her eyes over the tall muscular body, pushing the slow creep of lust aside to focus on any changes.

She was starting to get frustrated, suddenly sure that Astarion was just fucking with her again, trying to get her to ogle their companion.

That's when she caught it. Two newly rounded talons on her right hand, pointer and middle finger.

Tav sucked in an involuntarily breath, lips falling open. All higher thinking pulled from her mind.

"Eager, isn't she?" Astarion crooned, jolting Tav back. His voice far too knowing for her taste as he hovered behind her.

"It's only been one night since she's gotten touch back, I admire her ambition."

Knowing his hands were clasped behind his back in that leaning way he always does.

Karlach's eyes caught Tav's, waving excitedly. Like they hadn't been together all day, rocking on the balls of her feet happily.

Tav groaned, heart jelly.

"Oh," Astarion lilted out a laugh. "She's got it bad for you."

"Wait, really?" Tav turned to him, clothespin in hand. Her snarky play falling back for a moment in genuine confusion.

Astarion tilted his head at her, his demeanor falling back in kind. "Seriously? Gods, Tav, you really are unobservant."

"Hey, it's not that I don't pay attention. I'm just blind to when it's aimed at me." She huffed, crossing arms.

"Oh, I know. I'm still amazed that you were blindsided to Gale's pining."

He relented when Tav threw her arms up in frustration.

"Ah, ah, okay. You're just blind to your own suitors, we'll agree. So trust me as an objective pair of eyes. That tower of muscle wants you. Badly."

"Oh, and here she comes now!" Astarion giggled, trapezing away on delighted feet. "Good luck with your new knowledge, darling!"

"Someone wants to go hungry tonight!" She threatened after him. Him giving her a little twirl.

"Uh-oh, you two are always at each other's throats." Karlach laughed, watching him go with fond eyes. "Literally."

"Oh, we were just playing." Tav assured, returning to hanging sheets.

"What's up, Karlach?" She asked, back on tip toes. Smoothing hands over the pleats, stretching up to pin the fabric down.

Karlach grabbed the clothespin from her hands easily, pinning it above her natural reach.

"Oh! Thank you!" Tav squeaked. Trying not to give the height difference between them any thought at all.

"Well, no one will spar with me." Karlach pouted. Her eyes starting to swim with tears that she brushed away with angry fingers. Huffing out a steadying breath, smiling down at Tav.

"But I think you might be under my weight class, might be an unfair fight to ask you."

Tav's heart thrilled.

"I mean... I am stronger than I look."

This was true. She was eyeline with mostly chests, but she could pull some weight. Hells she's carried unconscious Gale over her shoulders several times now in the heat of battle.

Huh. Okay, his crush on her makes sense.

"I would love to spar with you, Karlach." She smiled, handing her up another sheet to hang.

"Really?!" Karlach bunched the fabric in her hands in excitement.

"Oh, whoops." She shook out the fabric, giving it one hard flick of her wrist. The fabric snapping in the air.

Tav let out a little involuntarily moan, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Gods below, what was that...

"You okay, soldier? Felling up to it?"

"Yeah, just.. uh, a little woozy." She tapped the side of her neck where the given pinpricks lay.

"You know, now that I'm touchable again, I wouldn't mind giving you a break some nights. Mama K's got a lot of blood to give."

Tav saw a silver head pop up in her peripheral.

"Ah, I'm alright." Tav flapped her hands in an affable way. "Though something tells me our favorite leech might start circling now."

"He's a hungry boy, we gotta keep him big and strong!" Karlach laughed.

"Okay, big and strong, I'll see you tonight." Tav teased.

Karlach's tail curled up, arching at the base. Her cheekbones heating.

"Okay... Well. Bye..." She sighed, turning and walking in a forced casualty that even Tav could clock.

Astarion's mouth had fallen open, hand hovering over his jaw. When he caught Tav's gaze, he pointed to where a tail would be on his body. Raising his eyebrows in salacious glee.

Tav didn't know much about tiefling tail etiquette but could glean enough from his pantomiming. Her own cheeks warming as she stomped at him to quit it, only fueling the bouncing suppressed laughter in his shoulders.

-

Initially, several of their companions had agreed to sit ringside. But as the day wore endlessly on with sun bearing down, most of them either decided to retire early or wade into the cool river with a few bottles of wine.

"Don't take too long..." Astarion sing-songed over his shoulder, a wine bottle hanging loose from his fingertips.

"Oh! Wait!" Tav called, standing and meeting him in the middle. Unbuckling the strap on the dagger at his hip, taking the bottle from his fingers and uncorking it with her teeth.

"Ugh, don't do that. You'll ruin your teeth." He chided, angling his hip for her to pull the dagger free.

"Shush." She cut into the back of her hand, dripping it into the rim of the thick glass. Swirling slowly.

He took his dagger back with a spin of fingers, seating it back with an unconscious flourish.

"Say when." She flexed her hand, encouraging more flow.

"Is never an option?"

"No, unless you want to get punched again."

"Gods, you do have a mean hook." He rubbed his jaw in memory.

"Alright fine. That's plenty." Leaning forward, he licked the stem of blood until it slowed to a stop.

"You know that only closes your wounds, right? Or I'd put you to use as a cleric on the battlefield."

He sighed dreamily. "Oh, it would be delicious. But very uncharitable motivation, I assure you."

"Well, best be off." He eyed the approaching tiefling with a mischievous twinkle. "Thank you, my darling."

She kissed his cheek. "No problem, have fun."

He waved over his shoulder as he departed, Karlach coming to Tav's side.

"Aw, you two are so cute together."

"Oh, we're not together." Tav laughed, the thought strange. "He reminds me of so many of my siblings."

"So many?" Karlach laughed. "Wait, how many do you have?"

"Entirely too many." Tav huffed, unconsciously settling into that authoritative posture she used with them.

"Aw, man. I want too many!" Karlach clicked her tongue. "Ah, well. Can't win 'em all."

"Speaking of, prepared to lose?" Tav teased, rolling her shoulders back.

"Oh, ho," Karlach laughed, settling back into a crouch. "Bring it on, babe."

Tav widened her stance, rolling her arm back in a curved elbow. Loosening her neck.

"Ready?" Tav hummed, balanced on the heels of her feet.

"Very." Karlach urged, fingers flexing.

"Then come get me." Tav smiled.

Karlach lunged forward, trying to sweep her leg.

Tav picked up her feet, ducking around her. Dodging another hand reaching for her wrist.

She laughed as she planted a foot to stand on Karlach's crouched hip. Using her shoulder as a hold to step up, swinging around her back to put her in a headlock. Hand pushing into her throat.

"Choking, huh?" She chided.

Karlach kneeled down abruptly, slamming her back into the ground.

Tav released, the air taken out of her. Still trying to lock her legs around Karlach's thighs.

"Oh, come on," Karlach laughed, prying her legs open with her hands. Her shoulder muscles rippling with exertion.

Tav's mouth fell open at the sight and sensation. Even with the full strength of her thighs, Karlach split her like cleaved wood.

Karlach turned and pinned her thighs open between her own, sitting on her pelvis.

"Hah!... Hey, why'd you stop?"

Tav's eyes darted down to the position they were pushed into.

Karlach paused, looking down as well.

"Oh..."

Neither moved, both huffing with exertion.

A stand still, the air charged with tension. Thighs straddled criss cross, their centers pressed together.

Tav tried not to moan, just the heat coming from her core pulling slick from her.

All it would take is one of them moving their hips.

Karlach looked down at her with blown out eyes, a desperate hunger, near anger, pulling her face slack. One hand gripping into Tav's propped thigh, starting to rock her hips.

"Gods, this heat!" Gale exclaimed, emerging from his tent. Fanning himself with a thin tome, heading towards the water.

Karlach flipped Tav up by the hips, pulling her up into a more appropriate position kneeling next to her. Tav squeaked, being manhandled so easily sending another wave of arousal to her lust dumb mind.

Gale turned towards them, unaware. "Oh! Are you guys coming too? I wouldn't mind the company on the walk."

"Absolutely!" Karlach called, giving Tav a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

"Oh! Uh, yeah! I'd love to hear about that." She pointed to the tome he was holding.

Rising to feet, led by Karlach's hand. Another shock of arousal as she stared at the mesmerizing sight, curled around hers with its diabolically implicit fingernails.

Gods above and below help her.

Gale chattered excitedly ahead as they walked, and Tav was really trying to listen. Truly, she was. But Karlach was walking just behind her, a hand flat against her lower back. The spread of fingers absurd, so wide it made her knees weak. Thumb rubbing mind numbing arcs into the sensitive skin.

Through the haze of her lust she managed a few well timed sounds of affirmation, trying to focus on silly things like words.

Oh, what fresh hells had she unleashed. Feeling Karlach's wide smile behind her. Enjoying tormenting her so innocently. Wanting to swat her away and lean in as hard as possible at the same time.

After an eternity, they reached the water. The gentle swell and lapping mockingly peaceful, moon ribboned and dark. Their companions gathered, floating conversation and passing wine.

Gale sat on the dock, rolling his sleep pants up to the calf. Dipping legs in with a deep sigh.

"Not getting in, Gale?" Karlach remarked in gentle disappointment. Fingers slipping inside of Tav's waistband behind her.

Tav breathed out a fast breath through nose, stomping her foot just slightly. Sliding the movement into shifting her weight casually.

"Ah, too much skin for present company." He smiled, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Eyes darting to Tav, then quickly away.

"But don't let me discourage you. Go on, enjoy the water in all it's glory."

"Well, what do you think, Tav?" Karlach asked in a deceptively neutral voice.

As she was about to respond, Karlach pulled her fingers taut into her waistband, snapping it against her lower back. Covering the sound with a cough.

A rush of wetness pooling in her underclothes, she hissed out a quiet threat. Karlach's fingers grazing her skin, a quivering of contained laughter in the chest she stepped back into.

"I think that's a great idea. If you'll pardon us Gale?"

She didn't wait to get his response, pulling Karlach in her wake. Her low laugh slipping out as she was led, Tav in a fast stomp, Karlach in an easy wide stride. Long legs not having to rush at all to keep up.

Tav was about to turn to lay into her when a wide hand caught around the front of her throat. Another pushing flat against her lower belly. Both burning hot.

Her breath caught, leaning head back as those fingers splayed up her neck. Sharp talons pressing into the underside of her jaw.

"I wasn't done back there." Her voice all gravel. Pressing the words into the side of her head, heat pressing into her back. The expanse of muscle a heavy presence behind her.

Tav whimpered, twisting to look behind them to gauge how close they were to the group.

"Nothing important back there, baby." She laughed, pulling Tav's chin forward with a force belieing her easy words.

"Gods, Tav," She sighed, voice all heat again. Fingers sliding down the front of her waistband, long fingers traveling a short distance quickly. "I've been so hungry to fuck you."

Tav moaned a little whine at the vulgarity, knees buckling in earnest. Karlach's own knee pushed into hers, forcing her down into an open kneel. Her large body enveloping behind, thighs encircling around hers.

Her fingers strained against the fabric for a few seconds before she huffed out a frustrated breath. Hands gripping up onto Tav's hips, pulling her up onto her belly, wrenching her leggings down onto her knees, then seating her back onto knees with barely an effort.

"There, that's better." She said decidedly. Tav delirious with lust from being handled like a five pound weight.

Karlach's fingers found her center again with a happy hum. Rounded fingertips pushing inside her with no further pretense. Tav bucking at the sudden introduction.

Karlach's other hand came back up to spread along her throat, pressing down just hard enough to make her moan. Long fingers thrusting slow thigh shaking pleasure into her. Her hips rocking into the hilt of her palm.

"Fuck, you're so tight around my fingers." Karlach hissed, rising on one knee to grind into her lower back.

Tav arched her ass into her in time, her hand and hips pulsing a rhythm into her. Gasping out staggered breaths.

"Take your top off for me." Karlach murmured, unwilling to give up her hold. Fingers tightening a wide cage into her neck.

Tav pulled her blouse open with fast fingers, pooling onto her elbows. Unclapsing the front of her bra, breasts falling free. Her hard nipples pebbling even more rigid. The combination of the sweltering night air and the fire at her back making her feel untethered.

Karlach's grinding sped up at the sight, sucking in a breath through teeth. Fingers picking up the pace a few moments later, taking a second to catch up to her hips.

Fingers now slamming into her, Tav's legs gave out, head falling back. Squeaking out fast indignant whines.

"Shhh..." Karlach urged, hand coming up from her throat to muffle over her mouth. Pulling her head back into her. "We're far, but not that far."

Tav's nails dug into her thighs, Karlach groaning quietly against her back. Tav's eyes rising into her skull, lids fluttering. Her cunt clenching in irregular pulses as her orgasm circled, drawing ever closer.

She murmured against Karlach's hand and she released slightly, fingers still plunging into her in lewd squelching.

"What was that?" She whispered, voice as sweet as her hands were rough.

"Choke me again, please."

Karlach's cunt ground into her so hard it pushed her forward. Her hand snapping back down around her throat, pulling her back flush in a sharp grip.

"Fuck yes." Karlach breathed, feeling the tremor coming from her core, pelvis bucking uncontrolled. "Give it to me, baby. Cum all over me."

Tav whimpered, cunt chasing her fingers with abandon. Her moans silenced in her throat. Head falling back, orgasm about to crest.

Karlach looked down into her eyes, pulling her jaw open further with her thumb. Licking up the inside of her lower lip with a groan.

That wrenched the orgasm from her far faster than she was ready for, her cry cut off abruptly into a hiss by Karlach's tightening fingers. Loosening as she enveloped her mouth in a muffling kiss. Tav gripped the back of her head and the curve of her horn desperately as it ripped through her. Cunt tightening down in visible pulls of her fingers, cum pushing out onto her palm with every thrust.

Karlach moaned against her mouth, the heat of her lips reigniting the hunger in her belly. Her body overstimulated all the same she whimpered against her, fast fingers still plunging.

"Just one more for me, baby. You're so pretty when you cum." Karlach urged, thumb rubbing hard circles into her cum slick clit.

Tav whined, buckling forward.

"Back." Karlach growled, fisting her hair into a ponytail. Pulling her flush once again.

"Yes, saer." Tav moaned.

"Fuck, call me that again." Karlach groaned, hips bucking hard into her back. Hand winding in a taut circle, pulling her hair back to her knuckles.

Tav moaned, a ragdoll to her demanding, in both body and words. Crying out as her second orgasm hit.

"Cum on my back- please, saer!"

Karlach shuddered against her, biting down hard into her shoulder to muffle herself. Her sharp teeth sending a shock of pain through her already unbearably high pleasure. Tav's nails curving with bruising intensity into her thigh, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. The second wave of slick pushing into the first, dripping down Karlachs wrist. A spreading wet against her lower back as Karlach's hips slowed into choppy pulses.

"Fuck..." She slid her fingers free, veiled in a thick layer of pulling arousal. Spreading it between her two fingers indulgently, making Tav blush despite the absolutely lewd behavior she just displayed.

"Karlach..." She whined, uncomfortable.

"Okay, okay." She chuckled. Popping the fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean with a thorough tongue. As if that was any better.

When her mouth opened again, Tav caught sight of something that made her cunt ache again.

"Karlach, why do you have a tongue piercing?" She whined, finding the whole situation extremely unfair.

"Huh? Oh, I hadn't realized you hadn't seen it! Though maybe you're usually not at an angle where you can, you tiny thing."

Karlach stuck it out flat, the small rounded stud displayed in the middle of her long pointed tongue.

Tav moaned, cupping her face and licking a line up the middle. The little smooth bump sending a renewed shock through her exhausted pelvis.

Karlach groaned, eyes fluttering up then returning to hers dark again.

"Careful soldier," She warned. "You're going to burn us both up."

~

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 3

Hey guys!! I am really loving all the excitement for this story. It's going to be a fun ride.

I'm going to be taking a week off with this and Icarus (metal band Steve) next week because I can't wait for you guys to see the Stripper AU and the Olympic swimmer one. And Sept is too far away dammit!

This part we see the morning after and Eddie learns Steve's real situation.

Part 1 Part 2

~

Steve woke up the next morning, warm, sated, and happy. He stretched luxuriously in the bed, reveling in the silky softness of the satin sheets against his bare skin.

“There’s the sleepy head,” Eddie said from a nearby chair. He was gently strumming his guitar and jotting down notes. “Did you sleep good, princess?”

Steve sat up and let the sheets pool provocatively around his waist. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time, if I’m honest.”

Eddie chuckled and put the guitar down. He strolled over to the bed and kissed Steve deeply. “As much as I would like round two, I’ve got to check out in an hour and I still need breakfast and shower.”

Steve pouted, but the tantalizing smell of room service hit his nose and his stomach growled.

Shit.

He hadn’t eaten since his dinner two nights before. So he slid out of the comfort of the bed and pulled on his pants, before padding over to the table that had a literal feast laid out.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” Eddie explained. “Eat as much as you want, I can grab food on the tour bus.”

Steve looked up at him, chewing his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Yup!” Eddie said, and then gathered some clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

Steve dug into the food with gusto. His mouth watering around each bite. Look, he’d grown up rich. He had never had “poor” people food. Only the best ever graced his mother’s table. But this? This was god tiered level food. Each bite melted in his mouth and lit up all his senses. It was divine.

Granted that could just be because he was hungry, but he didn’t think so.

He wasn’t sure how long he took savoring each morsel but he looked up to Eddie chuckling in the doorway to the bathroom.

“You keep making those sounds, baby,” he purred, “and I might be tempted to see how fast I could get you off.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “Is the food always this good?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Not always sometimes they’ll have some asshole chef who thinks he’s god’s gift to food and makes it all about him. Small portions, bland, expensive as hell. There isn’t much Hawkins has going for it, but this hotel is definitely one of them.”

“It must be so expensive getting a room here,” Steve breathed.

Eddie just shrugged. “You must have not come from much if this impresses you.”

“My parents are like lawyer and businessman rich,” Steve said shaking his head, “not rockstar rich. Trust me when I say that this would blow their fucking minds.”

“Duly noted,” Eddie said coming to sit next to him at the table. There was still a lot left as Steve had been enjoying the meal instead of scarfing it down. “I wouldn’t know. I grew up in Forest Hills that’s the trai–”

“Trailer park,” Steve said quietly, “I know. I used to babysit after school for fun money. I didn’t have to do it, but I enjoyed it and I liked the pocket money that wasn’t dependent on Mommy and Daddy. Anyway one of my kids was from there. She had a single mom who worked and when she didn’t she drank, so I was happy to watch her and get her out of the house for a couple of hours.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked for a moment and then half shrugged. He pulled some food onto his plate and took a bite. “So yeah, I grew up poor and each time we moved up the chain from sleeping rough, to motel, to cheap hotel, to nice hotel, to some place more like this I was always impressed. Don’t impress me anymore, though.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “Do you miss that? The wonder of seeing each new place?”

Eddie frowned as he thought about it. He took another bite of food but he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He poke Steve in the ribs. “Don’t I didn’t notice you wanting to go diving into those pillows when we first came in. I saw you.”

Steve squeaked and giggled. “All right, all right. But can you blame me?”

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “Because that was the first thing I did when I got into the room yesterday afternoon.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, all right.”

They finished their breakfast.

“Come on let me take you back to your car,” Eddie said putting his luggage together for his PA to grab later.

“Oh.”

Steve didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t tell him that he still had all his earthly possessions in his car. At least he hoped they were still there. That he didn’t have any place to go and he couldn’t ask the parents of those kids he babysat. His dad would make their life hell.

“No, it’s fine,” he said waving Eddie off. “I’ll relax here in the lobby for a bit and then call a friend for a ride. You can go whenever you need to.”

He had no friend to call and he would be walking that long ass trip back to the bar.

“I’m not going to do that,” Eddie said, standing up. “I’m going to take back to the bar because that’s where the tour bus is anyway. It doesn’t make any sense to have you call someone else when we are literally going to the same place.”

Shit.

There was nothing Steve could say to that. So he finished getting dressed and walked with Eddie back to his rental car.

Once they got to the bar, Steve tried to sneak off, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“I’m walking you to your car, Stevie,” Eddie said with a chuckle. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Fuck.

Steve dragged his feet all the way to the back of the lot where his Bimmer was parked.

Eddie stopped ten feet from the car and looked at Steve in indignation. “Please tell me you have some place to go after I get on that tour bus.” Steve opened his mouth, but he held up a hand, “And please don’t lie, you’re terrible at it.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he stared at him in shock. “I am not!”

“Yeah, you are, babe,” Eddie said coming and taking Steve’s face in his hands. “It’s how I was able to tell you weren’t twenty-two, remember?”

Steve let out a small petulant huff but said, “Yeah, okay. My dad kicked me out and threatened all my friends so they wouldn’t want to take me or risk his wrath. He did the same thing to my job at the video store.”

Eddie kissed him tenderly and then pressed his forehead against Steve’s. Steve grabbed onto his wrists for something to hold onto, not to pull him away.

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie growled, “you have no friends, no money, no job, and no place to go, is that right?”

Steve nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He took Steve’s hand and started hauling him away from the car.

Steve stumbled, trying to keep up. He looked back at his car and then back to Eddie. “But where are we going?”

“I need to make a short pit stop and then we’re going back to the hotel,” Eddie said firmly.

“But what about your tour?!” he protested. “I let you throw your life away from some guy you just met!”

Eddie stopped and turned around to face him. “You listen real close, little Canary. We are going back to the hotel to get you a room for the next six months so that you have a roof over your head and a constant supply of food. Then I will be going on tour and will check in on you from time to time to make sure you do need anything else. Is that clear?”

Steve gulped he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. And he had the feeling that if he tried to weasel out of it, Eddie would be right back in Hawkins to hunt him down.

“You take care of everyone else,” Eddie said gently, “let me take care of you.”

“How–how did you know I take care of everyone else?” Steve stammered, trying not to think of the implications of what was going on here.

Eddie kissed him gently. ‘Because little Canary, you have not once talked about the boy you were obviously caught with for your dad to throw you out even though he’s not offering to take you in either. You haven’t railed against the friends that are clearly more afraid your dad then they care about you. You haven’t blamed your dickhead boss for firing you for being gay, even though you really should. And you haven’t called the parents of the kids you used to babysit for fear of your dad coming after them, too. You have carer written all over you, babe.”

Steve blinked in the face of that onslaught of information.

“Oh.”

He hadn’t really thought to blame anyone for his current predicament because it was obviously his fault this all happened.

“So you’ll let me help you?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve sighed and waved his free hand back to the direction they were going. “Lead on.”

Eddie cackled and did just that.

~

What the pit stop was was Eddie talking to his band and manager about getting Steve a room at the hotel, putting all of the expenses on Eddie’s credit card and hauling all his belongings up the hotel room Steve had vacated literally a scant hour before.

The room had been cleaned and the bedding replaced and the bed made anew.

Eddie handed Steve a paper with a couple of numbers on it. “The top one is my cell phone. I usually leave it in the tour bus, but if you call it I’ll call you back as soon as I can. The second number is Chrissy, she’s our manager, if you need anything other than what the hotel provides, call her and she’ll get it for you. The third number is your hotel en suite phone number. I don’t recommend giving this out to too many people though, okay?”

Steve nodded and gingerly took the paper from him. He looked up at Eddie, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for this.”

Eddie kissed him again. “You just relax and enjoy yourself, baby. The tour will be over in a few months and then I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Steve kissed him goodbye as tears flowed down his cheeks. Eddie kissed them away and gave him a hug goodbye.

Once Eddie was gone, Steve sat down into the chair Eddie had been in when he woke this morning. Hard.

His entire life had been turned upside down again. This time was even more insane than the last.

Just two days ago, he had been making out with Tommy Hagan on his parents’ sofa and now he was sitting in the swankiest suite in Hawkins’ swankiest hotel, which would be his for the next six months.

He had all his clothes and his pictures and things. He even got to put them up on the side table, housekeeping would just dust around them. His clothes were in the drawers and closet. There was a basketball court in the hotel gym, there was a swimming pool, and a fucking sauna. There was a TV in the room, hooked up to cable. He could even order porn on here and it would all be charged to Eddie’s credit card.

Steve literally had everything he could ever need and never leave the hotel. There was just one condition.

No underaged drinking on Eddie’s credit card. Steve could smoke, watch porn, do whatever else he wanted, but he couldn’t drink alcohol until he was twenty-one. Because Eddie didn’t want to get into trouble with the law and Steve really didn’t blame him.

So he traded booze for the life of luxury. Which fucking hell was a pretty great trade.

He wiped his hands on the black leather pants he had yet to change out of and stood up.

Steve eyed the bed for one moment before he was running straight for it. He leapt into the air and landed spread eagle, face first in the center of the bed, pillows flying everywhere.

It was every bit as amazing as he thought it would be.

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he could get used to this, in fact.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 8

Source for pic

Firestarter 8 🔞

Word Count: 4392

Aditional warning for this chapter: There is a scene that is EXPLICIT NSFW. I will mark it with the 🔞 sign so you can skip it if you want. Having said this, your internet experience is your own and you should be acountable for it. You've been warned, read at your own discretion. Thank you!

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: We took a lot of time to get here, so, for now, enjoy the fluffiness of this chapter, please! 🥰

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter 🔞 | | |Next Chapter|

The sun hits you in the eyes and you stir. The breeze feels warm against the bare skin of your arms. As you take a deep breath, you are immediately flooded by Ace’s scent. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your arms tighter around him.

He must’ve already been awake because you sense a kiss on your head. “Morning, beautiful.”

You can’t stop smiling and blushing, but you open your eyes to stare at him. “Hi.” He’s also smiling at you and he lowers his head to kiss you on the lips. “You must be so sore.” You murmur, because you both slept on the floor, but he held you against him and forced you to use him as a pillow.

“No. This was the best sleep of my life.”

“Stop being cute.” You say with a smile.

“Can’t. You rubbed your ‘cute’ all over me yesterday.” That elicits a chuckle and soon you're both laughing.

You won’t deny it. Last night was heaven. You used up all the condoms Ace had in his wallet, you cuddled under the stars and made silly promises of always wanting to be with each other. You shared favourite foods, colours, music and movies and your connection is so real that it’s like you have known him your whole life and never spent a day apart from him. 

With the light of day you were afraid that this might all have been a dream and that you would doubt Ace’s intentions, after all, he won the chase, he got you.

Yet, he’s still looking at you as if you were the only important thing on the planet. He’s holding you so tight one might think you were about to slip down the mountain. And he keeps stealing kisses from your lips as if he’s afraid you won’t return them. 

“Maybe we should get going.” You murmur while glancing at his wristwatch. “I’m sure Shanks already realised what happened, but I don’t want to be late to help him.”

Ace hums and shifts, positioning you on the floor and entwining his legs with yours so he can hover over you. “Five more minutes so I can properly kiss you good morning.”

You smile and nod, closing your eyes and waiting for his kiss, but he swiftly disappears in the middle of your thighs and you gasp. “Ace!”

“I didn’t specify which lips I wanted to kiss.” Comes his muffled response and you arch your back against his touch. Ten more minutes won’t make much of a difference, right?

-*-

You feel a little silly dressed only in your pyjamas, since it's daytime now, and Ace fishes out another one of his used t-shirts from the backseat. 

“Do you have an unending pile of clothes there?” You chuckle and put on the oversized tee over your pyjama, tying a knot in the back to make it shorter. 

He shrugs and gives you another kiss. “I just keep taking them off and they end up in the backseat. Sorry if it's a bit smelly.” He grimaces. “But, damn, you do make my shirts look sexy.”

Giggling you open the door and are about to enter when Ace sets his hands on your hips to help you up. If that gesture made your toes curl before, now it almost makes you roll your eyes in pleasure. “Ace!” You stare at him from inside the car. 

“I can't help it. Your hips are like a magnet to my hands.” He goes for another quick peck, but you turn in the seat and pull him by the neck, opening your legs and letting him nestle against you for an open-mouthed kiss. 

He grunts into you as he pulls away. “Stop that, Firestarter, I don't have any more condoms.” You smirk as he pulls away from you and goes around the jeep to get into the driver's seat. “You wanna kill me?”

He's obviously aroused. 

But so are you. 

So you try to get your mind out of the gutter as you choose a song on the radio and he drives. The mood for the ride this time is way different than before. You are sitting on top of the world. 

And Ace is right there with you. 

He keeps placing his hand on your thigh when it's not needed on the stick, and you can't stop grinning. You have such warmth inside your chest that you're almost afraid you'll combust. 

You're happy. So happy. You don't actually remember feeling like this. 

Ever. 

You feel the need to tell him how much he means to you, to let him know that, in just a short span of days - that felt like an eternity because you were always around him or thinking about him - you've fallen deeply and madly in love. You've come to the realisation that you simply can't - and don't want to - live without him. 

But you're afraid to let him know that already. It's too much for too little time and he's not used to relationships. You don't want to scare him. Even though you're dying to know if what he feels for you is as intense as what you feel for him. 

Eventually Ace pulls over at Shanks’ house and you both leave the jeep. Ace says he only has to be at the fire station after lunch so he'll help you and Shanks with chores and you're happy about that decision. 

But Shanks doesn't seem too happy. 

“Morning, dad!” You greet with a small wave, but the redhead staring at you from the top of the porch only hums and drinks coffee from his mug. 

“Good morning Sh-... Sir.” Ace says respectfully and you stifle a giggle. Why is he being so formal around your father?

“Ace is helping us with chores, is that alright?” 

He hums again as a response and you and Ace climb the stairs together. Raising an eyebrow at your father, you step inside the threshold ready for a cup of coffee yourself. You'd also like a bath, but that will have to wait until after the chores. 

Ace is about to follow you inside when Shanks steps in front of him, giving him a menacing stare and a scowl.

“Dad!” You growl from inside the house. “What are you doing?”

Shanks turns his head your way and finally smiles at you. “Go on inside, bug, I'm just going to have a quick chat with Ace.”

What now? You grumble and turn to go into the kitchen but, as soon as your dad turns, you return to eavesdrop. 

“Portgas, explain.”

“Sir, I… what am I supposed to explain? We talked and cleared the air between us. We're fine now.” Ace seems nervous. 

“You talked?”

“Uh… I… we… uh…” You facepalm and groan internally. 

“You defiled my daughter, scoundrel!”

Why is your father speaking like he's a man from the 18th century? 

“What? Shanks?!”

“It's ‘sir’ for you. It will be ‘sir’ for the rest of your life. And you've just lost your privilege to coffee.”

“Ah, Sh-... Sir! I really need coffee.”

Shaking your head you can’t help but think that your father is overdoing it.

“Why do you need coffee? Stayed up all night?” He curses and exhales deeply. “Ace, you better not hurt my baby girl. You see the smile she walked in here with today? You better keep her smiling like that.”

Sighing at your father’s protectiveness, you turn to go back to the kitchen. 

“I intend to keep that smile on her face, Sir. Every day.” 

The softness with which Ace delivered the words makes you melt and sigh again as you pace into the kitchen and take out two coffee mugs. Filling them to the brim and snatching the plate of pancakes your dad cooked for breakfast, you return to the porch and set the items on the balcony. 

“Dad, stop trying to act mean.” You drag Ace to a chair and sit next to him, handing him one of the coffee mugs. He stares at Shanks who simply sighs and enters the house again. 

With a heavy sigh, Ace takes a huge gulp of the coffee and you knit your eyebrows together. “Don't let him bully you, Ace. He's just trying to be mean.”

“He's right, though.”

“About what?” The coffee tastes delicious and you hum into the mug in delight. 

“About warning me.” He scratches the back of his head and sets the mug down again. “I'm no good.” A sigh escapes his lips as he locks eyes with you. “Look at you, you deserve so much better than me…”

Oh, you are definitely going to kill Shanks. But first, you need to put a smile back on Ace's face. Getting up from your chair and sitting on his lap, you cup his cheeks with your hands and force him to look at you. 

“You silly, silly man. You're perfect for me. You're all I've ever wanted and I've never been happier. Don't doubt yourself. You're enough!” Leaning down, you rub your nose against his in an affectionate manner. “More than enough, actually, and you're all mine.”

That seems to do the trick because his cheeky smile is back on his freckled face and he circles your body with his arms, one of his big hands grabbing your butt cheek as he leans in to claim your lips and you giggle into his mouth. 

“Hmm, hmm.” Shanks clears his throat and Ace immediately parts from you, raising his hands in the air and looking at Shanks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, come on!” You whine. “Dad, get used to this and stop being mean to Ace.”

“Get off me, Firestarter.” Ace whispers without breaking eye contact with Shanks. “He looks pissed.”

Eventually you lay the groundwork for a semblance of peace between both men, and you get to work helping your father. Shanks asks Ace to do chores on the other side of the property so you don't get distracted and he's right in doing that, because both times you pass by Ace on your way to get something, you two lose yourselves in kisses and embraces, barely getting any work done. 

Lunchtime approaches quickly, and the morning chores are done. Ace needs to get home to shower because he has to be at the fire station in the afternoon and you are taking your time to say goodbye to him, by his jeep. 

“Thanks for all the help, cowboy.” A sultry whisper escapes your lips as you lean your back against the jeep’s door, your hand lingering on his chest in a soft caress. 

His smile mimics yours as he tilts his hat back. That adorable cowboy hat he wears in the sun. His skin is sweaty and glistening from the sun and his freckles make you weak in the knees. Pressing his body against yours, he lets his fingers caress the side of your body before settling on your hip, his thumb slowly circling your hip bone. 

“Anytime, anywhere.” You chuckle as he leans in, his teeth nibbling your lower lip before his tongue swipes to ease the sting. Closing your eyes, you moan into his touch and he uses it as a cue to take your lips in a gentle kiss. “Come shower with me.” He whispers against your ear, kissing your skin with his hot breath, a veiled promise of what's to come, should you accept. 

Tempting. So tempting. 

“Can't.” You exhale. “Shanks is waiting for me.” He grunts and that low vibrato makes your skin perk up with goosebumps. “Later?”

His warm hands and nimble fingers keep caressing you, making promises he intends to keep and you feel your mind fog up with pleasure and yearning. 

“Want to come by the station?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble against his lips. “Will you be alone?”

“Yeah, everyone will be at the Jubilee.”

“Perfect.”

Your arms circle his neck and you pull him down for a final desperate kiss. “I gotta go.” 

“Me too.” He grunts and you groan but neither of you moves to actually leave. None of you wants to part and stop kissing. Not when it feels this good, when it feels like you're two halves of a whole and you're finally reunited. 

“Lunch is getting cold!”

The yell coming from the porch makes Ace pull away from you as if you suddenly caught fire and you can't stop a hearty laugh at the respect he holds for your father. 

“You should go.” He says without looking back at Shanks, and you nod, letting go of his neck, but nor before laying another peck on his lips. 

“See you later.”

-*-

The first thing you do after having lunch and taking a well-deserved shower, is text Nami. You send her exactly three words and wait: He is good! 

Giggling, you pick up the call you knew she was going to make immediately and tell her what happened. You're so happy that you need to share the news. 

-*-

Shanks corners you and tries to have a conversation about sexual responsibility and safety during sex and your eyes almost roll out of their sockets once he starts. 

“Dad, are you serious? I was going to get married by the end of the year! I'm 25 years old! You can't expect me to be sexually innocent, right?”

Shanks’ blush rivals the colour of his hair and you are quite sure it's a reflection of the blush on your own cheeks. Grunting and turning away from you, seemingly occupied with packing some fruit and water before he leaves for the Jubilee, he adds: “Ace is a good kid, Bug. I told you that. And he told me his intentions towards you come from real feelings, not just to pass the time.”

Softening your gaze, you find yourself smiling. So that's what the two of them were talking about yesterday before you left the house. The part of their discussion you missed. 

“I know you're in good hands with him, but I worry…” Shanks closes his eyes as he grabs his hat. Before leaving, his eyes search yours and they seem a bit sad. “I made him promise me he wouldn't break your heart. So you let me know if he does, okay, bug? See you later, sweetie.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice is merely a whisper. 

-*-

As promised, after your father leaves and you get ready, you meet Ace by the fire station. Heart already beating out of compass, lips tingling with excitement and a smile that doesn't leave your mouth. 

You know he will be crazy about you no matter what you wear, but you can't help but dress a bit provocatively just to see his reaction. Using the thigh-high black socks again, you pair them with a cute little dress, half-expecting him to take in the infinite possibilities of easier access. 

This time you use the doorbell, yet he's as fast as he was the first time around and in seconds he's opening the door with a huge grin. 

“Oh, look! My food order arrived! I was starving!” You're about to chuckle at his silliness when he hooks his arms under your butt to get you to straddle his lap, and you oblige. Your laughter gets lost within his mouth because he's already claiming your lips on his with a fiery, passionate kiss. 

It's as electrifying as the first kiss you shared. In fact, all kisses with Ace seem to leave behind a trail of fire that consumes you. It starts somewhere around your belly and its flames lick and climb and spread all over your body, leaving you numb, sweaty and aching for more. 

He pulls a deep moan from inside you with his tongue as he deepens the kiss and you tug at his hair. Desperate fingers find purchase in his dark locks, trying to ground yourself to the here and now because you're already feeling yourself beginning to drift away in the throes of pleasure. 

“Fuck, I've missed you.” He breaks the kiss with a raspy voice as he sits you on the back of the couch, hands gripping you tightly and digits protruding the skin. His eyes gobble you up and he almost has to pick up his jaw from the floor as he finally takes you in. “Are you trying to kill me, Firestarter?”

Your legs find purchase against the couch, hands lazily draped over his shoulders and he deems you safe enough to loosen his hold on you. A guttural grunt makes his lips tremble as he runs his hands over your legs and bare thighs. 

Giggling, your fingers play with his hair as you lock eyes with him and hit him with your best sultry voice. “Not kill, no. But, perhaps, hinder you enough to take you aback.” Another giggle. “Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

🔞 EXPLICIT NSFW PART - READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 🔞

His warm hand finds its way to the inside of your thighs, his digits exploring further and finding you already wet and wanting, the thin cloth of your panties barely holding anything back. 

“You're already this wet for me, baby?” He coos in your ear and you whine at the sensation his hot touch creates. “Did you think about me as you were getting dressed?” He lays soft kisses along your neck and collarbone and you find it quite hard to concentrate on his questions. 

“Hmm, hmm.” It's all you can manage as he pulls the wet cloth aside and drags two fingers on your folds, spreading your slickness. 

“What was that?” His tongue teases your earlobe at the same time as his thumb does the same to your clit, and all the sane thoughts you had left in your mind go out the window. “I need a verbal answer, Firestarter. Can you do that?”

No. No, you can't. Because he's thrusting his fingers inside of you and biting at every bit of exposed skin on your upper body, and he's so warm and hot that it's like he's pure fire. And by all the gods, you don't mind burning away into ashes if it feels this good. 

“I… Hmm, hmm. Yes, sure, yeah.” You manage to croak between sighs and mewls and the chuckle he releases against your neck makes his lips vibrate and elicit a very shameless moan. 

“Are you still here with me?” He claims your lips again, trying to pull you back from the pleasurable place you drifted onto. Unbeknownst to him that such an act only pushes you further. 

“Ace…” You whimper. How is it that with a few kisses and touches he has already reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess, already on the verge of begging for him. 

“It's okay baby, I got you.”

That sentence tells you he's almost done with his teasing and you help him get rid of his shorts so he can open the wrapper to the condom. Yet, before he does, you jump down from your perch and fall on your knees in front of him, eager to taste him as you have yet to try. Locking eyes with him, you catch his mischievous glimmer, reading your intentions full well.

Your lips tingle with excitement at the prospect of having him in your mouth, and you eagerly tug down his boxers and also get rid of your panties while you’re at it. “Fuck.” He mutters as you bite your lower lip, practically salivating at the sight before you. Using the precum gathered at his tip, you lather his length with your tongue as he releases a groan and places his hand on your head, fingers tangling around your hair for purchase. 

He's definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you love a challenge. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck around him with one hand fondling his balls and the other one stroking his shaft. The sounds leaving his lips are driving you insane and you can't help but release one of your hands from him so you can put some pressure on your clit that's throbbing incessantly. 

That action elicits a deep moan from you and Ace pulls out of your mouth before he loses control. “Ah, you're so good to me.” His praises leave you blushing. “Get up, baby.” He whispers as he finishes putting on the condom. 

Ace removes the straps from your dress so he can pull it down and free your tits, suckling and biting on the nipples until you’re panting against his ear. “Ace! I need you right now, please, please!”

“There you go begging for me, baby. You know that drives me insane.” He grunts as he turns you and bends you over the back of the couch, spreading your legs with one swift motion. “You want me? How badly do you want me?” He teases the tip against your folds, letting it drag towards your clit and you arch your back to him. His hand slithers and grabs your boob, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as he aligns himself with your entry, just waiting for your answer. 

“I want you so much, Ace. I can't stop thinking about you inside me and-... Mmmm, just like that.” You gasp as your nails dig into the plushness of the couch. He's inserting himself tantalisingly slowly and you can feel your walls stretching and accommodating him, welcoming him inside. 

“So tight…” He grunts and buries his head in the crook of your neck, as you're still arching back. “So perfect.” As he finally bottoms out, the two of you moan in unison, taking shallow breaths. He slides his hand along your spine, from bottom to the top and pushes you gently forward by the nape, so you return to a bent position. Then he places both hands on your hips and starts to thrust relentlessly. 

The burn spreads and scorches and extends its fiery tendrils to parts of you you barely even realised were there. He's so deep within you that it almost hurts, but instead, it's a pressure that feels good and keeps building and intensifying, pulling moan after moan from your lips. “That's it, baby, scream for me, we're all alone.” He assures you. 

“God, Ace! I'm almost… Mmm… Ace!”

You can feel his thrusts getting more and more erratic, his pacing increasing and yet you still fall off that ledge before him when a feeling of numbness and overpowering burn courses through you. A panting, gasping moan leaves your lips in shallow breaths and Ace’s arm circles your waist, pulling you towards him, firmly, tightly as his release follows yours with a deep grunt, and his head collapses forward, against your shoulder. 

You're breathing in tandem. Shallow, erratic breaths that leave you lightheaded. Or perhaps those are only the effects of the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you. Whatever it is, you're both recovering. Somehow he recovers faster and, still buried within you, scatters sloppy kisses on your back and shoulders.

“You’re so perfect, so, so perfect.” A chuckle leaves your lips followed by a breathy whine when he pulls out of you. He’s still holding you tightly against him and his hand travels from your waist to your neck and he pressures near your jaw to tilt your head to the side and back so he can claim your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He exhales after your short kiss.

-*- 🔞 END OF EXPLICIT NSFW PART 🔞 -*-

“Told you that one was the first to die!” You point at the screen with a victorious shout as the blonde girl gets slashed in the first ten minutes of the horror movie. “I should've made a bet!”

Snuggling closer, you steal a kiss from Ace's lips. He smiles as his arms circle tighter around you. The loveseat that the other night seemed too small for both of you, now has plenty of space since you're lying on top of Ace. 

Your boyfriend? 

You haven't labelled it, but he did say he wanted to try a serious relationship. Whatever he is, he makes you happy. Your heart keeps swelling at the tiniest things he does for you. It's so endearing the way he circles his fingers in your hair, or the way he nudges his nose against yours when you're absorbed in the movie. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks as his stomach growls and that is another thing you have come to expect of Ace. He's always hungry. 

“I could eat.”

“I don't think there are many takeouts open during Jubilee, I think we might have to settle for pizza again.” He mumbles, half-annoyed. “One of these days I need to take you to a proper fancy restaurant. How about that?”

Giggling, you nod as he starts to dial the pizza place's number. “Sounds nice.”

After he places the order, you continue watching the movie, but Ace keeps distracting you with feather-like touches and cheeky kisses and you're bordering on a weird limbo between sleep and wakefulness. 

You register the faraway sound of the doorbell, but Ace lifts you up very slowly, settling you back down on the couch and you keep your eyes closed, being lulled by the lingering smell of Ace around you and, oddly enough, the screaming sounds of the movie. 

Just like the first time you visited, Deuce takes it upon himself to enter the day room and see which girl Ace is with this time. You hear them as if they are very far away. 

“I can't believe you, Ace. She was perfect for you, if you have another one of those bimbos in there with you, I swear-... Oh.”

He must've seen your sleeping form on the couch, especially since you sense Ace approaching and fixing your skirt, which might've been riding up. He then moves away and growls with a whisper. “I told you to beat it, man! Nosy bastard.”

“Well you're right. I'm nosy. But I'm proud of you. She is the one, hey?” Ace’s chuckle is very warm and you sigh with a deep inhale. “But she's freaking hot, I don't know why she wants anything to do with you and-...”

“Enough, enough. Beat it.”

You still hear their whispered voices moving away. Ace sits down near you again, scooping you up in his arms and laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You're the one, alright.”

[samenameastheothers]

Right Person Wrong Time pt. 2

✨MDNI✨

Ummmm hellooo!! First off I want to thank everybody for the love on pt. 1…like wtf I was not expecting that! Anyway I hope you all enjoy pt. 2 it's a little shorter...

I'm hoping to make one more part but classes suck and so does life sometimes so I have no idea when ill get that out. Everyone who asked to be tagged will be tagged again in pt.3 and if you want to be tagged, add a note at the bottom. <3

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, reader dreams of cheating, swearing, itsnothappyyetbutipromiseitscoming :)  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You finished your mission, got the information the Rhysand needed, and left. The effort it took to continue made up some of your hardest moments, and that was saying something. Regardless, you had continued on. Azriel was always behind you, you could feel his presence even more now with the bond, but he made sure you could never see him. Upon your return to Velaris, you masked everything, the bond, and your true feelings about it. You were good at that, masking what you felt, that's the reason you were in the inner circle, in The Court of Dreams in the first place. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for your excellence in discretion, it's the way you kept secrets that made you stand out to the High Lord those years ago, made you stand out to him. It didn't matter anymore, what made you special, rumors got out that you sold information to other courts a few months ago. After hours of integration by your own partner, there was no evidence that you did it, but no evidence that you hadn't either. You begged Feyre to read your mind, to prove you were innocent, but she wouldn't do it. You had sobbed, tears streaming down your face, trying to convince not only the man you loved but also the man you worked for that you would never betray him. He had walked away. Even after the truth came out, that you were not a traitor, he never came back…

“Until two weeks ago,” you say under your breath as you walk back to your apartment from the meeting you had been in for most of the day. 

You have been reminiscing about that night when he ate you out like your cunt was the last sustenance on earth, but more importantly the night you found out the male who broke your heart was your mate. How could you not have felt it before? You knew the connection between the two of you was strong, but how could the two best spymasters in the whole of Prythian not realize that they were fated for each other? The look on his face that night made you believe he hadn't suspected it either, and the fact that he has been absent at every court meeting for almost a month since makes you certain about how he feels being tied to you. Nevertheless, you were concerned, scared that he would do something rash, but mostly you wish you could get Azriel out of your head. Non-stop you were thinking about him, even more than when you were in an actual relationship with the male. You had tried drinking, hell you had gone out every night with Nesta before she got concerned and stopped taking you, but nothing worked. He was always there. 

You walk into your bedroom and let out a deep breath, you're exhausted and need a nap. You make your way over to your bed, shedding your clothes. Opting to sleep in the underwear you had on is better than going to bed in your full outfit. Your head hits the pillow and instantly you're asleep… 

Usually, your dreams aren’t vivid. I mean you've had crazy nightmares and weird sex dreams before, who hasn't? This time though, it's different. 

At first, it's dark, you can't sense anything in front of you. 

“The fuck?” you mutter, it feels so real, the feeling of nothingness. 

Then you hear it. A woman, moaning in ecstasy, she's saying someone's name but you can't make it out. Suddenly the image appears before you, a room, darkly lit, a woman on a bed of silk and an Illyrian male on top of her. You see him slide in and out of her, the lewd sound of his cock wet with both their pleasure makes you feel oddly out of place. You can’t seem to make out the image in front of you, it's constantly going back and forth between definitions so clear that you can make out the sheen of sweat on the skin of the woman he fucks, but every time you try to focus on the male you can't make out who he is. It's frustrating, you would like to enjoy this dream but something feels wrong, the male seems familiar. You don't realize who it is, not until the woman moans out his name again, 

“Azriel” she gasps and sighs like it's her own mate's damn name.   

 “No” you whisper. 

You can feel your heart break as you watch what's in front of you. You sink to the floor. Your eyes can't seem to stray from the sight of Azriel burying himself inside the other woman. He covers her mouth with his, his face now in full definition, his tongue sliding in and kissing the woman passionately.

“No stop please stop!” you start screaming at them, screaming at Azriel everything you have felt since he walked out of that interrogation room, and everything you wished you had said since. Your cries fell on deaf ears, he doesn't even turn his head to recognize that you are there. Even when he was upset at you, his eyes always seemed to find you, wherever or whatever you were doing. His moans now filling the room mixing with the crying of the other fae. You can’t help but remember the night he told you that you were the only woman who was ever able to get those sounds out of him. You can't stand it anymore, watching the woman come undone by him. You try to move but you are rooted in place unable to stop yourself from witnessing the breaking of your heart. It seems like you stay there for hours, you've long since been numb, tears steadily slipping down your face. 

Finally, Azriel slides out of the woman and stands up off the bed. You watch, somehow still mesmerized by him after everything. The way his shadows wind up his naked body makes him look like some dark god as he walks towards you. You are still sitting there, practically kneeling as he reaches you. Azriel grasps your face in his scared hand bringing you up to stand in front of him, his dark eyes burning into your soul.

 “My love, why do you cry?” he says in a voice softer than you expected. Softer than you have heard him speak to you in a while. It startles you, the way he seems so caring, and when you look into his eyes you see tears in them.

 “Azriel-” before you can respond his lips crash into yours. 

You feel darkness colliding all around you, the sensation of him then the sensation of nothing again, over and over. You feel as if you are falling, you try to scream but smoke fills your mouth, and- 

You wake up to your room filled with shadow.   

Tag list:

@sidthedollface2 @sillymercury @brieflyclassymortal @abewitchingwillow @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @fxckmiup @azriels-shadowsinger @gorlillaglue25 @domciak84

[crimsonbubble]

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, threesome (f/m/m), strength kink, fingering, one use of daddy, double penetration, praise, nipple play, marking, creampies *not proofread, just pure horny

[tiktok got the best of me 😔😔 I wouldn't have finished this fic if @southernbluebellereader didn't help me 🤞🤞 they a real one fr fr]

MINORS DNI!!

graves always started shit. it was as if being an idiot and picking fights with alejandro was his favourite pastime. if you had a dollar for every second you spend watching the two of them bicker, you'd have a few hundred dollars but that isn't to say that it isn't attractive.

the way their jaws clench, they stand up straighter, get in each other's faces, and all but snarl at one another. it was like watching two wolves try to intimidate each other. you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your heart pound and your mind race. seeing two men with so much power and authority at their fingertips, glaring at one another and not letting you or the other out of their sight.

but have you ever seen two people so drastically different yet so alike they eventually agree on something?

you. it's you, sweetheart. that something, is you.

it was easy to agree on you. your every small movement and gesture was nearly engraved in their minds. they both knew they ogled you but neither of them made a move. whether it was because of the unprofessionalism or the deep-rooted fear of rejection no one knows.

but the silence on their end only worked to make you frustrated. so you upped the antics and took the harmless flirting up a notch. flirty smiles, lingering eye contact with hooded eyes, cooing out soft praises, feather-like lingering touches, all the while making sure to do it when the other is nearby.

their patience was wearing thin. you truly knew just how to poke and prod to get the reactions you wanted out of them, don't you?

but everyone has a breaking point, right?

---

"oh mi querida, don't back out on us now." the years of military training are truly shining through as alejandro holds you up easily by the backs of your thighs. he lightly bounces you on his cock, that twitches as graves slid his fingers in alongside it.

"look at you, doing such a good job." graves can't take his eyes off the way your messy cunt gushed and clenched, leaving his fingers and alejandro's cock slick and glistening under the warm lighting of the room.

you can barely hear your own thoughts as graves worked your sticky cunt open. alejandro's nails are digging into your skin as you tighten around him and as graves' fingers brush against him. graves felt the way alejandro's cock twitched, looking at him over your shoulder. graves drags a finger up and down on either side of alejandro's cock, a smirk tugs at his lips as he looked at him over your shoulder.

even when they're having their way with you, they're still trying to provoke each other. alejandro bounces you up, adjusting his grip on your thighs. the quick bounce plunges alejandro's cock deep, his tip brushing faintly against your g-spot. you let out a staggered breath, your eyes fluttering as your cunt pulsed. you're getting impatient as the two men kept up their petty rivalry. tears are welling in your eyes as graves is unintentionally edging you.

"please daddy..." both of them go still, their eyes snapping to you as you whine and sputter. you take hold of graves' wrist and push his fingers in deeper. "go on then, you heard the lady." graves cursed under his breath as he carefully pushed in alongside alejandro. there's a satisfying burn as alejandro and graves rubbed deliciously against your velvety walls.

"there we go baby, just like that." graves' hands are on the sides of your ass, groping as he slowly rocks his hips. it feels like the air was sucked out of your lungs as they both started moving at different times. alejandro nips and sucks dark blooming marks into your neck, while graves trails kisses down your chest to take your puffed nipples in his mouth.

your senses are on overload as your hips twitch with each heavy taunt of their hips. they're touching all over you, clouding your mind in the best way possible. your hands grab at any part of graves' forearms, trying to find any way to ground yourself as they both steadily pick up their paces.

"taking us so well, sugar." graves pulls away from your chest, his breathing laboured as he trails a hand up your thigh to nudge his thumb against your clit. your back arches as much as it can in your current position, making you lean your head back against alejandro's shoulder. "mierda, you feel so good." your face heats up as they both coo out praises and touch you in all the right places.

the dark look in alejandro's eyes sends a shiver down graves' spine, making his hips buck into you even faster. alejandro smirks against your neck as he peers over at graves, watching intently as he falls apart in front of him. the intense and looming gaze from alejandro and your cock drunk and fucked out expression doesn't make it easy on him. "oh fuck, I'm not gonna last."

alejandro took this chance to poke at graves a bit more. "yea? coming already? so soon?" graves lets out a breathy whine, trying to keep his hips stable. the low rumble of alejandro's voice made your body tremble, his accent mellowing his words as he spoke. both you and graves fell prey to alejandro. the suave of his tone, the way he prided in himself, the way he always gets what he wants.

"ale-" you're mindlessly calling out to him and anyone that's willing to listen. you're being strung out so tightly, you feel like you're going to snap. graves rubs tight circles into your clit, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he tries to hold himself together while you clench and pulse around them. you're quivering in their hold, in near tears as your orgasm rips through you. your nails are digging into graves' forearms, as you lean back further into alejandro.

"there we go, mi vida. just like that." graves follows along as the guttural groans from alejandro have his head spinning. alejandro scoffs and throws an amused smirk at graves as he watches the man shake and feels his hips stutter. there's an overwhelming feeling of warmth that floods you, leaving a sticky, white mess between your thighs. graves stills as he slowly and carefully pulls out, his cock twitching as he watches the mix of his and alejandro's seed mix together and leaks out of you.

graves gathers what he can of the white mess and gently fingers it back into your still pulsing hole. "I think you can handle another, right?" alejandro knows graves is planning something, there's an underlying tone in his voice. "or is coronel vargas too tired?"

oh, so that's what he's doing. provoking alejandro. again. at least this time around, you can't focus on their words as alejandro's grip tightens on you and his eyes glaze over as he glares at graves. you can already tell you'll be sore and bruised in the morning but right now all you can focus on is how easily alejandro and graves slip back into your warm, wet walls.

this was gonna be an extra long night.

[inubaki]

splinter fractures

Adam turned on his side and reached out for him, cursed under his breath when the first touch told him that Lucifer was trembling under his fingers. “What the fuck?” he asked, quietly, and pulled him in closer, tucking him into his arms, feeling the angel twine his arms around his neck, pressing himself against Adam. Despite his skin feeling warm to the touch, Lucifer was still shivering against him, eyes shut. When he opened them, they glowed soft golden in the dark, and the fear in those eyes was almost palpable. 

“Did I wake you?” Lucifer asked in a hushed tone, his voice strained, the emotion in it pressing against each word. “I’m sorry.”

Not admitting that he had, Adam tried stroking the other man’s back to calm him, rubbing gentle patterns there. “What’s gotten you this upset?” he asked, watching those gleaming eyes shut again at the question, feeling him shudder under his fingers. “Is it me meeting Lute?” he asked quietly, dreading the response on some level, because he knew that despite wanting to see Lute again, weighed against this degree of pain he’d be causing Lucifer, he would give up the attempt. 

Lucifer sighed in response. “No,” he admitted. “That isn’t helping, don’t get me wrong, but I was…like this the night before Charlie went to Heaven for that last trial, too. Anxiety spiraling, you could say. It’s really only gotten worse this time. With the treaty broken and no rules in writing for now, there’s nothing protecting her from anything Heaven wants to do to her. That rule against killing hellborn? Gone. What if that’s what they want, in revenge for the angelic blood she spilled? You and my daughter, to make an example of? Or only Charlie, to spite me for your loss?”

Adam’s arms tightened around Lucifer for a second as he sat with that unappealing thought, but eventually discarded it. “Sera wouldn’t go along with that,” he said, finally. “Maybe with me, but not Charlie. She’s too innocent and there’s only so much Sera is willing to turn a blind eye to. And it doesn’t make sense to antagonize Hell right now anyway, now that things got turned on their head like that. That big change will have them shaken up. I really think they just want to tell everyone how we are going to deal with it, set another system in place, and go with that.” 

Heaven, he thought, was often ruthless and could be vindictive, but didn’t chase misery for misery’s sake. Not the elders, anyway. They were all clean cut efficiency. 

“Whenever I deal with them, they always destroy something, strip something away from me. Take someone away,” Lucifer said, his trembling subsided by now but the fear still clinging to his voice. “Time after time.” His hands fisted into Adam’s shirt as he spoke, as if trying to anchor them together. 

Adam carded a hand through Lucifer’s hair, settling them both more comfortably on the bed, against the soft pillows. He met that bright golden gaze, made sure he was looking at him as he spoke.

“Good news,” Adam said softly, “You never have to worry about that with me. I already fell, remember? Those elders, fuck, everyone in Heaven? They’ve made it real clear that they don’t want me. If I stay for more than the couple days they’re willing to put me up, they’re going to ship me in a return to sender box straight back to Hell.” He pressed a kiss against his neck, on his jaw, and then softly on his lips until Lucifer opened his mouth for him, hesitant at first, then hungrily.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Adam promised him between kisses, “Might as well get that through your head right now, because it’s not changing anytime soon.”

—— Chapter 28 story by @writingfromabox. https://archiveofourown.org/works/53574439/chapters/142428160?view_adult=true

-I love this story so much!!! Ahhhh!!!

[suzukiblu]

Guessing game: Farm

Context: a familial soulmates AU is happening to newly-decanted baby clone "Superman" and Ma and Pa "it's free alien baby" Kent.

The waitress comes back with the drinks and asks if they're ready to order, and then they have to actually read the menu. She leaves them to it. The Zesti does taste really good, but Superman has a hard time concentrating on the menu and barely resists the urge to glance up at Jonathan and Martha every five seconds.

"Oh, wait–can you read yet, kiddo, or do you need some help with that?" Jonathan asks with a faint frown as he glances up at him himself, and somehow the question doesn't sound judgmental at all.

Weird, Superman thinks again.

"Yeah," he says. "Um–Cadmus was educating me with information uploads. I didn't finish them, but I can read and write and do, like . . . well, some math, anyway. I got through trig and precalc, mostly. Uh, and some chemistry and biology. And, like, I can speak English and Spanish and a little Mandarin, and I know basic ASL. I don't think I'm actually as smart as they thought I was gonna be, though, some of it's kinda . . . confusing, to be honest? And they only ever showed me stuff once, I think they just thought I'd . . . you know, get it."

"You're two weeks old!" Martha says with an exasperated huff. "Those damn morons, you're gonna need a lot more than two weeks' worth of yellow sun before you're going to get the eidetic memory or the enhanced intelligence."

"The–what?" Superman blinks. Jonathan and Martha glance at each other, oddly, and then back to him.

"Superman had perfect recall," Jonathan says. "Hyperthymesia. A photographic memory, you might call it."

"Oh," Superman says, blinking again. "Uh–I didn't know that."

"I don't know how much most people ever thought about it, so far as his powers went," Jonathan says with a shrug. "Not quite as flashy as the heat vision or the flying. Actually it's a surprise you can fly this quick, come to think."

"I'm sort of . . . cheating," Superman mutters, ducking his head. "My Kryptonian physiology isn't developed enough to give me the real powers yet and they didn't know how long it might take for them to come in, so they sort of . . . there's like this . . . field, kind of, that the original Superman put off? Subconscious telekinesis, I guess. Skin-tight force field, basically. It's why bullets weren't ripping up his suit all the time and why he could, like, pick up a whole freaking bus or whatever one-handed and it wouldn't just break in half from the fucked-up–uh, the messed-up support. The field would just wrap around whatever he was touching and reflexively keep it together. So Cadmus just kinda . . . copied that and cranked it up to eleven, for me. So I'm telekinetic, kind of?"

"Huh," Martha says, looking a little puzzled. "You know, that never even occurred to me, but it certainly explains a few things."

"It only works when I'm touching something," Superman says, fidgeting uncomfortably and feeling kind of like . . . well, he guesses his powers not being the same as the original Superman's were yet isn't gonna disappoint the Kents, right? Like, why would they care? "It's tactile-based. But I can always use it on myself. So I can fly and pick up real heavy shit and hit like I've got super-strength and make it look like I'm invulnerable. No heat vision or ice breath or X-ray vision or, uh, eidetic memory, though. Or super-speed or super-senses."

And definitely, definitely no enhanced intelligence.

"So you mean you're going to be stronger than Superman was?" Martha asks with a little frown, and Superman . . . blinks.

"Uh . . . I don't think so?" he says uncertainly, not sure where she got that idea. "I don't know how the hybridization of my DNA will affect, like . . . any of the Kryptonian powers. They might turn out weaker than his were, since my genes are sort of already adapted for a yellow sun."

"I don't know, being primed to process yellow sunlight might make your powers end up stronger, on that logic," Jonathan points out reasonably. "Once you grow into them a bit, anyway. And either way you'll have the telekinesis enhancing your strength and invulnerability, and that might get stronger too. And, well, at least some hybrids have a tendency to turn out bigger and stronger than their parent species."

Superman tilts his head. Blinks a couple times.

"Huh," he says.

Well, there's a really freaking cool and absolutely fucking terrifying thought.

"How do you know all that?" he asks. "Are you a biologist or something?"

"I'm a farmer, son," Jonathan says wryly. "I'm talking about mules and wolfdogs."

"You're a farmer?" Superman repeats in absolute bemusement.

"We both are, dear," Martha says. "All our lives. We live out in Smallville, actually, we're just here visiting . . . well. Clark's fiancée. Her name is Lois."

"Where's Smallville?" Superman asks, still bemused.

"Kansas," Martha says. "We have a little farm out there. And . . . well, we'd very much like to take you in, obviously, though I don't know where you're staying right now."

"Just, like–wherever, right now," Superman says awkwardly, trying not to sound as pathetic as he's pretty sure he does even as he wonders how that's supposed to be "obvious". He's not, like, a little kid or anything. It's not like he can't take care of himself. "Like, it's not really . . . just wherever."

Jonathan and Martha glance at each other. Superman feels embarrassed. It's not like it matters where he's staying, and like, he'll find a place, eventually, just . . . he hasn't quite figured out how to do that yet. That's all.

Cadmus, unfortunately, did not prepare him to ever live . . . well. Outside of Cadmus.

"Would you like to visit, at least? Take a look around?" Jonathan offers. "It's not too far a flight from Metropolis."

"Um . . . maybe," Superman says, really not sure what he'd ever do on a farm of all places. Like, in what way is a farm a "Superman" kind of place to be?

Though he guesses it'd be politer than making Jonathan and Martha come to Metropolis. And if they actually . . . if they really want to see him . . .

He could swing by sometimes, that's all. He guesses he'd have to be careful about doing it because probably the Kents aren't gonna want anybody to know they're his soulmates, given the whole "being civilians" thing. Maybe he can just . . . just pretend to be . . . he doesn't know, exactly? Just–maybe some random distant relative or something. Maybe they have some cousins or whatever. Or just . . . something.

Superman actually has no idea how many people hang out with their extended family members like that, to be honest, but it's the best idea he's coming up with right now.