#( it’s like 5+ bios that were lost ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x you

640 notes · View notes

dxtreza · 11 months ago

Text

⋆｡°✩ nxx-ray; artem, marius, vyn, luke (tot)

⋆ summary: what've they got going on down there? ⋆ xtra: afab mc, nsfw under the cut! first upload, so excited. reqs open in ask box; fandoms are in bio ⋆ wc: 1.7k (includes drabble under artem's hc)

i. artem wing

tbh i think he'd be pretty insecure because mc his canonically his first true experience with romance, concerned about his size even though he knows it's irrational; from hearing what marius gossips about artem probably thinks he's below average. he'll learn through your reassurance that this is not the case. he's literally the goldilocks zone. he's not insanely big, but still above average. i'd say about 5.6 inches and tilts slightly upward (6.0 measuring with the curve), ranges from about 5 to 5.5 inch girth (2.5 inch diameter). tip has a complete ridge, his skin is of a slightly darker shade than the rest of his body. he's pretty too, smooth moisturized skin with a thick vein on the bottom. really really sensitive head and balls- won't admit it but he loves it when you smooth your palm on them. it's reactive, too- his cock jumps and twitches at the slightest bit of arousal. as for hygeine: kempt, but not obsessively so. i don't think he'd have that much body hair, but he likes to keep a bit of a happy trail and a small tuft of hair at the base of his cock.

"artem... what's got you so serious?" you ask quietly, paying attention to the way that his sighs have stopped. his lips have pulled themselves in a tight line, brows furrowed as he nearly scowls off into the distance. at your words he clears his throat, rubbing the small of your back with his thumbs and shaking his head slightly. he seems to have lost his enthusiasm now that you guided him out of the pitch darkness of his study and into the lamplight of his room, awkwardly sliding under the covers. his response comes slowly as he thinks.

"it's fine, just nervous." he says curtly, reaching for the lamp to turn it off. you swat his hand away, grabbing it and making a move with your free hand to cup the bulge in his black briefs. he shudders when he feels your breath on his neck, free hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer as you whisper. "you're absolutely sure? nothing to do with the fact that i can see you now?"

he gulps at this, turning his head away and nodding once. "i... it's just different than your hand in the car, or under the desk in my study. in the regard that i can see that you see me, i mean." there's a shaky undertone to his voice, and the end of his sentence lilts as if there were a question on his tongue. "i'm not sure who you've had before, but i might not be able to compare in some respects."

it's confusing at first- he's big, why would he be thinking this sort of thing? you've held him in both your mouth and hand before, felt the weight of him and the way he can reach the back of your throat. he's not joking by the looks of it, a blush high on his cheeks with his admittance. "can you let me disprove that, baby?" you ask, and he's already reaching for lube from the bedside table. he hesitates for a condom, but remembers you're both clean. artem warms the lube on his hand before rubbing it along your entrance, seething to himself when you pull his cock free from his boxers.

you're already prepped from when he had you on his thigh in the study, but looking at him in the light, you would need to be stretched a bit. he's shaking now as you assess him, mouth pulled taught at the corners and gaze wavering. artem eases a bit when you guide his middle and ring finger to push into you, though he seems puzzled. you sigh when he curls his hand, leaning into his neck to answer his confused gaze. "you're not gonna fit unless we do this."

bit by bit, he's relaxing, and you tap his wrist for him to pull his fingers out of you. he blushes when he brings them up to his mouth, cautiously tasting you and looking towards your eyes for approval. you meet him with a kiss, giving him a few quick pumps before easing his head in. he moans into your mouth at this, eyelashes fluttering as his hands come to rest against your hips.

the more you take him, the more noises spill from him. its intoxicating, breaking him bit by bit as his nails dig into the soft flesh of your sides and trace circles against your spine. you grab his chin, directing his face to look down where you two join. you're nearly seated fully against him, with still half an inch to take. his hips go slightly rigid when you whimper, and then it clicks in his brain that you need help with the rest. any doubt he had quickly falls away when you whine against his cheek, grasping at the sheets under him as he slowly shifts his hips up.

artem can't help but to cry out pathetically when he's fully inside, sheathed snugly just in front of your cervix. the noise spills from his plush lips, breaking at the end when you squeeze slightly. "feel how tight that is baby? you're a perfect fit..." you coo to him, interlacing one of your hands with his and brushing the hair out of his face as you sit up. he shifts with you, sliding against the headboard so he could still press your chest to his while you rode him.

"not gonna... last." he bites out the moment you start to move, enveloping your mouth in a heated kiss. it's unlike the chaste ones you usually receive, this time fueled by some deep desire artem had never previously expressed. he meets your hips with a thrust, causing you to choke on your air and whine into his skin. he's stuttering now, unable to make any coherent phrases other than please and oh my god. it's cute in a way, until he's got you right there with him and you're unable to control the way your head buzzes and your eyelids twitch when he's stimulating you so desperately.

"artem-!" it comes out in a shriek, and in your last moments of coherence you shove your tongue into his mouth and bear down with a tight squeeze around his cock. he groans as his hips stall and buck up one final time, trying to thrust through his orgasm with weak sighs and whimpers. it's not long before he's detaching from you, checking your body for bruises and whining when he has to pull you off of him. it seems he had a lot to give; his cum drips down the inside of your thigh and he grimaces at the sight, feeling guilty for the mess.

you heave, rubbing your head as you come down from the high he gave you so easily. "i've never... you know, that fast." you mumble, and he's already scooping you up to carry you to the bathroom with a worried expression. He looks down when you cup his cheek in your hand, lips parted slightly. "seriously, you're just right, that was the best i've ever had."

it's nearly uncomfortable to say, but worth it when his face turns beet red and he sputters for what to say, sitting you down on the counter and wrapping his arms around you as he breathes a wish to you, one that you're more than happy to grant. "please tell me you'll be the only i ever have."

ii. marius von hagen

knows he's got a good dick. constantly showing you his hands and making it a point that his ring finger is longer than his pointer finger; weird mentality about it, the aforementioned reason artem thinks anything below 6.5 inches is below average- marius seems to think so. almost too big, so much so that it's unrealistic. he's 7.5 inches long and doesn't curve, and a solid 6 inch girth (3 inch diameter). his tip has more of a shallow ridge, and his skin is a few shades darker than the rest of his body. not particularly sensitive unless you press down on his frenulum or very lightly drag your nail where his cock meets his v-line. he's not very veiny, has two prominent ones that branch off. i think marius would also be fairly hygienic, but he has more body hair than artem. he keeps a happy trail as well, and grooms but doesn't really shave that much except to maintain a uniform shape/direction of the hair. he knows it can be a turn off for some people, so just ask and he'll wax everything off.

iii. vyn richter

he's not too privy to what marius loves to spout about himself. doesn't really care for comparison that much; why should he when you're the only one who will see? he can comfortably make you feel good- he doesn't have to split you open to do it. if anything, he's elegant. definitely the most aesthetically pleasing out of all the boys lol. I'd say about 5.4 inches, with a 4.5 inch girth (2.2 inch diameter). extremely veiny, also the most sensitive because of it. they're not very pronounced, just slightly raised off the skin. as for the color, it's the same as his body, with a dusty pink tip; full ridge. i also think he's uncut. also very hygienic. always smells of balm and herbal oil, and routinely shaves clean. he's not too fond of any body hair really, and likely won't grow it out if you ask him. he doesn't care if you have any, though.

iv. luke pearce

another one that doesn't care too much about marius' words, mainly because he thinks that he's joking. slightly below average, but knows how to use it. he's not small by any means, still sizing in at around 4.6 inches. luke has above average girth, though, peaking just below his tip at 5.4 inches. he's curved to the left a little bit, but not enough to notice. a few small veins, but he doesn't have much reaction to you touching them- he's most sensitive when you're giving attention to his slit; just a few seconds is enough to make him practically scream. slightly darker than his body, with a pink tip. hygienic... ish. don't get me wrong, he'll never smell bad or be unclean. he just doesn't pay that much attention to his hair, it's more fun if he gets to watch you do his grooming for him.

#tears of themis x reader #lalala i love artem #artem x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #marius x reader #marius von hagen #marius von hagen x reader #vyn richter #vyn x reader #tears of themis #luke pearce x reader #luke pearce

573 notes · View notes

ana-bananya · 4 months ago

Note

Asking for help is not easy, I ask for a small donation of only 20$ from each person, 20$ will save my family from death in Gaza 💔 Donate through the link in bio (gofundme) Together, we can achieve our goal within a day and provide crucial support to me and my family in Gaza. Your contribution means everything to us and in these difficult times your kindness is our greatest hope. We are very grateful for any assistance you can provide and thank you for your kindness and generosity in our time of need

I can't do $20 at this time, but I can give $10. I will reblog with my proof of donation once I make the donation and I'll encourage others to do the same.

$130/$50,000

Mahmoud's account hasn't been vetted to my knowledge, but it is credible. Please donate to him if you are able. His gfm was made back in February and only has $130.

Here is the family's situation, as explained by Mahmoud in the gfm:

"Dear beloved friends, My name is Mahmoud Alkhaldi. I am a Palestinian refugee living with my fiancée and family in a catastrophic situation-in tents- in Rafah. However, for 116+ days, me and my family have been under intense bombing and warplanes rockets in the Gaza strip. I’m asking funds to evacuate (5) members of my family from Gaza to a safe place in Egypt, including my younger brother (Mohammed, his wife, and his 1 and half year son Yasser), and me and my fiancée Sujood). It could be very expensive and costly to evacuate a war zone at a miserable time like this. We will need approximately $50000 and a lot of prayers.

My home was cozy, beautiful, and warm before the war. Here is some pictures for our house before the war

Our home was targeted in a tank bombing on the 25th of November 2023 that left it unlivable, along with the entire neighborhood of Al-Burij refugee camp, in Gaza City.

When we returned back to our home to get some needed itemsand clothes, we found that Israeli soldiers also steal our belongings. Since that day, my family has been sleeping in a miserable tent in Rafah, in the south of Gaza, which has become a home for all people from the Gaza strip, whose homes were also destroyed by airstrikes, but they have survived thus far.

I can't express how useless and depressed we felt after finding out what they'd been through and are currently going through. Each moment, we worry about losing them. Without connection settings, we cannot constantly contact them. During the moment of typing, over 25,0000 individuals have been killed in Gaza. They are without electrical power or heating for a period of three months, food is limited, and their drinking water is unsafe for human consumption. My family's only hope is to evacuate to to a safer place out of Gaza. My family went through the loss of several friends, and many of them have lost their spouses and children. I am afraid of losing my family. They are the light that leads me through my life. I cannot live or survive without them."

#Palestine #free palestine #Gaza #Rafah #all eyes on rafah #mutual aid #Crowd funding

164 notes · View notes

thetfspot-inanimate · 5 months ago

Text

Lucky Singlet

Full Story and 2nd Image FREE for free members at link in my Bio!

Tyler's wrestling buddy, Tent ripped his singlet during a match and had a second match scheduled in an hour. Unfortunately, he didn't have a second singlet. Tyler was done for the day and offered Trent his singlet, but they both knew he wouldn't fit in it. Trent was running out options and was going to have to forfeit, which would cost him his shot at college regionals.

Tyler, already lost too many matches to go to regionals so he contemplated helping out his friend. Tyler, was a Chemistry major and had been working on a mixture that would change living organisms into a objects, but only if a piece of that object is mixed in with the mixture and a person drinks it. He had tested it on bugs and it worked on one mouse, but he'd never tried it on a person…

He looked over at Trent who sat forlorn in the empty locker room, head in his hands, and clutching his torn singlet. With an aching feeling that he would regret it, Tyler knew he had to help out his friend and told Trent about the mixture and what it could do. He told Trent that he would be his singlet for this match and this match only.

Trent's smile beamed and he bear-hugged Tyler, squeezing a little too hard. Trent was elated and was hopping up and down, still not loosening his grip on Tyler. It was only 5 minutes until the next match started and Trent encouraged Tyler to hurry up and drink it while Tyler tried to explain how to apply the second vile of serum that would change him back.

"The white serum is in my duffle bag and I'm leaving it under the bench in the locker room by your locker," Tyler said, "Just fold me up and make sure I am fully covered with it and I'll turn back in an hour, or so."

"Yeah, yeah, got it! Please hurry! Right now! I need it right now!" Trent responded.

Ripping off a piece of Trent's singlet, Tyler put the fabric in the uncorked bottle of yellow liquid and swirled it a round. The object started to bubble and dissolved in the potent concoction. Tyler looked at it and put it to his lips, hesitating, wondering if it was truly a good idea to drink the untested experiment.

"Come on, dude!" Trent begged and grabbed the base of the bottle, tipping it up forcefully into Tyler's mouth.

Without much of a option to protest, Tyler drank the contents of the bottle dry and immediately could feel the toxic liquid changing him from the inside out.

His skin felt weird, light, and cool as any slight breeze of air became more sensitive. His body felt hollow and it was getting hard to stand. He folded in on himself and fell to his knees, however, his knees to not catch his fall. He fellll directly onto his face, which started shifting downward to be the crotch of the singlet he was becoming.

You're shitting me, my face is really going to end up here? Tyler wanted to say but his mouth vanished into the pouch of the singlet. Pale white skin changed to yellow and black fabric, at an alarmingly rapid pace. He didn't expect the transformation to go that quickly, maybe it was because he drank all of the liquid while the test subjects only had a few sips? Whatever the reason, his body morphed into its final goal, hollowing out holes for Trent's massive legs to go.

"Thanks, buddy! I owe you one!" Trent said, wasted no time stripping naked and walking over to Tyler's flat form and picking him up.

Weighing only a few meager ounces, not being able to control any part of his form, and being completely fabric was extremely disorienting to Tyler. He didn't expect to have so much of his senses still. He could see, smell, taste, hear, and his touch felt heightened in a way. He was dropped to the floor and Trent swiftly yanked both of his beefy legs through Tyler's leg holes, stretching them past their intended limit. At first, being stretched like that was scary for Tyler, but surprisingly, it felt… arousing? it was as if someone were stretching his prostate. The other leg going in him felt the same way.

The motions were quick but Tyler new exactly what to expect next, just not to the extent of what to expect next. He knew Trent was hung, the singlets don't hide much when it comes to the imprint of another man's junk. He had also sneaked a couple of peaks at Trent when he was changing in the locker room, but getting to feel Trent's oversized cock press against his face, he didn't expect it to feel that big.

His pouch bulged out, every crevasse filled to the brim with Trent's man meat, yielding the same stretchy pleasure that he felt when Trent's legs filled his form, but this time in his face and mind.

Why does it feel so… so good? Tyler wondered as if could speak.

Trent, with not much consideration to his friend, adjusted his dick and balls through Tyler's former face and finished pulling Tyler up and over his body. Too sexually confused, and rather appalled for that matter, Tyler did not notice the rest of him being stretch onto Trent.

Trent quickly threw on his helmet, put in his mouth guard, and snapped on his pads, and walked out the locker room door on his way to his regional qualifying match.

Every step would elicit a feeling for Tyler. The wind blew through every strand of his fine fabric body. Every bounce and jiggle of Trent's horse cock sent micro-pleasures through Tyler's fabric mind. Trent's muscles contracted and expended, pushing and pulling Tyler's fabric, helpless to do anything but follow.

Tyler reminded himself, this was just temporary and would be over in less than 30 minutes. And whatever bursts of pleasure he was feeling, to put aside and just observe what was happening in the match. Heck, this was practically an up-close-and-personal lesson from Trent to learn his style and see what makes him so good.

Before he knew it, Trent was standing on the wrestling mat and the bell rang. The match had started and Tyler was too busy thinking about Trent, and needing to be changed back and…

The collision of the two men sent and uncanny wake-up-call through Tyler's entire existence. Like every strand of his fabric had goosebumps. The two men didn't stop, rest, or hesitate to grab and man-handle the other to the ground and Tyler could feel every part of it.

Whatever inkling of learning from Trent Tyler had, was now out the window as he was thrown around, grabbed, stretched, collided, and pressed in between two toned, muscular, giants.

Every movement he felt and every rub released some sort of pleasurable feeling, like nothing he felt as a human. He could compare the feelings vaguely. Being rubbed was like having his skelp massaged, and being pressed was like receiving a hug, but again, every part of it felt more than any of those actions would've if he were just a human. More stimulating and more arousing.

Beads of liquid sweat soaked into Tyler from every pore of Trent's muscular body. Trent's dick flopped and bounced in every direction, rubbing against Tyler's fabric face and getting half-hard in the process, further stretching Tyler out.

The bell rang. It was over? Trent's body was over his opponents. He was breathing heavily, and Tyler could feel his chest rise and fall with great succession. Both of Trent's hands were over the other guy's shoulders, pinned to the mat. Trent had won the period!

Heck, yeah! At least it's paying off and he's winning! Tyler thought.

The two behemoths reset, and the next period started shortly after. The same cacophony of pleasure induced disorientation and litany of fabric euphoria shook through Tyler's form. Until again, the bell rang, ending in the same way with Trent over the other man, declaring him the winner and sending him to finals!

The joy both Tyler and Trent felt as Trent walked back to the locker room was palpable. Every stretch, every bounce, ever disorienting grab, or musky bead of sweat that Tyler endured was fully worth it now that Trent was going to regionals!

"Dude! That was awesome!" Trent said with a skip in his step, "That was supposed to be my hardest match yet and I beat him faster than I've ever beaten another opponent! Wearing you must be lucky or something!"

Tyler couldn't help but feel the sense of pride he played in helping his friend's dream come true. He was so happy for Trent and in his mind, he was celebrating along with him.

"Did you see that one really quick turn I made the first round that got him onto his back, or that…"

Trent kept talking to Tyler about the match and all the different moves that he made. He opened his locker and started throwing things in his duffle bag and… he put on a hoodie over Tyler?

No no no! Dude! Take the hoodie off, you got to change me back! Tyler screamed in his thoughts as a pair of grey sweatpants followed, blinding Tyler into a muted darkness of warm fabric.

Trent kept on talking, but Tyler couldn't hear anything. He had suddenly become overwhelmed with an unrelenting panic. The fabric against his fabric body felt tingly, almost as if he were being tickled, but he was too concerned to focus on that feeling for more than an observation.

The silent screams of protest were not getting through to Trent as he continued to move and even started to walk. Tyler tried to move, to signal somehow that Trent was forgetting the main thing that Tyler explained to him, but he couldn't do anything, he was just a singlet.

Trent's thunderous steps boomed down the hall and onward. Trent opened what sounded like a car door, sat down, and started the ignition. Tyler's thoughts were flooded with profanities and worry. Anxiety, panic, doom, anger, frustration, every negative emotion was passing through Tyler as Trent put his foot on the gas and drove away, leaving the remedy in a duffle bag that will probably end up getting thrown away by the janitor.

#inanimate tf #gay #hot male #muscle men #clothing tf #inanimate transformation #singlet tf #inanimate object #inanimate #singlet #wrestling

174 notes · View notes

bruh-changbin · 2 years ago

Text

sweet tooth

pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader

genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything

word count: 6.7k

a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA

waiting.

the most painful game one can be subjected to.

seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value.

surely his coffee’s gone cold by now.

the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd.

he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-

jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!

he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:

[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.

[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.

[6:49 pm] jay: hello?

whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.

and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.

maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.

the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!

but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart.

he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-

“would you like a top up, sir?”

a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you.

it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you.

your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!

the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.

he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!

“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand.

“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”

god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he’s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess.

“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”

you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image.

“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.

but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.

it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.

“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.

“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.

his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss.

either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind.

with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.

covet. desire. yearn for. crave.

all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.

unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success.

albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage.

he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.

the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!

while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade.

things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay.

alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started.

he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up.

“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”

hold up, how’d you learn his name?

his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest.

“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.

“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”

as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp.

“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”

you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”

at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.

“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own.

while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts.

soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving.

“is your business partner coming today?”

…what?

“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”

for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit.

a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”

his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.

before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile.

ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.

when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.

over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.

he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words.

he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows.

nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven.

sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.

he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…

god you would sound so perfect.

his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen.

you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use.

down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.

today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone.

it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made.

he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.

when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.

when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.

only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:

my shift is done at 10:00 pm.

wait for me? :)

y/n

and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering.

in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.

embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes.

he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.

the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).

with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.

“hi.”

“i like your car.”

“oh, you do?”

“yep. it suits you.”

“really?”

you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?

“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.

“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”

“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind.

the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude.

soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky.

“wow jay, way to be subtle.”

“what!!?”

“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”

fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!

“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”

“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”

you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.

“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”

silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).

“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”

he chokes on his saliva.

“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”

yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite.

“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”

in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks.

“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”

“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks.

from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself.

when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat.

his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.

“i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks.

“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”

“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”

with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.

jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.

“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand.

he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present.

fuck me.

not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you.

your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.

you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth.

when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean.

only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines.

once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.

not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping.

he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper.

it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.

this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”

your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.

with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth.

your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe.

his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air.

he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick.

from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”

he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass.

once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does.

his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong.

jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is.

his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere.

“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for.

the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint.

he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt.

seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.

with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.

smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured.

the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup.

a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you

#enhypen smut #park jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #park jongseong fanfiction #park jay fanfiction #park jongseong blurbs #park jay blurbs

1K notes · View notes

angelliicc · 2 months ago

Text

rush

“nine to nine, you're on my mind all day

you're my world and my sweet escape”

masterlist

a/n: HI GUYS! editor ❌ writer ✅ no fic coming tomorrow or thursday :( sorry. also i almost fell asleep writing this but i drank celsius lol, enjoy!!

warnings: not proofread, fluff, tension

| your phone buzzed with a notification. your phone had been quite dry, but whenever you get a notification you answer it immediately. it was from instagram.

message request from: ellie 💫 accept it?

“hm, whos this?” you thought. no person had dmed you out of the blue before. only close friends and family. “sure, why not?”

after accepting the request, you see the message she left for you.

“hey :)”

you respond back. “hiii”

e: “i dmed you because i saw we have a lot of interests in common, hope you dont mind.”

you needed new mutuals to talk about the same shit you liked, only a handful of people at your school, but they were mostly older.

r: “oh dont worry, i dont mind. so you like the same things as me mostly?”

e: “unless there’s something i dont know about, than yes”

“shes kinda funny” you thought.

r: “lol, i like music, clothes, painting, shopping, sports, all that shit.”

e: “i like sports also, what do you watch?”

r: “basketball, loved it since i was 5”

e: “damn thats for a long ass time. i tried it but its ehh not for me.”

r: “well what do you watch or play?”

e: “soccer, i play and watch.”

r: “nicee. i want to play soccer, but i don’t know how to play lol.”

e: “maybe i can teach you one day.”

shes bold, but you had no complaints about it.

you saw in her bio, she lived in the same area as you. you decided to ask her if you’d like to meet up and get some coffee. you had nothing to do this weekend and wanted to get out of the house anyway.

r: “hey, i saw you’re in the bay? you mind if you wanna get coffee and chat? get to know each other more?”

you pressed send before even thinking twice. “fuck fuck fuck why did i do that? she must think im so annoy-“ until you felt a buzz.

e: “sure, id like that.”

a smile grew on your face.

the next morning you woke up, went to the bathroom to do your 5 step skin care routine. while waiting for your skin to dry, you decided to pick out an outfit. the weather was partly cloudy, so you picked out a pink sweater, a white tank top, and some jeans. you changed, then applied your makeup, making sure everything was going perfect. you did your eyeshadow a baby pink color, with some glitter on the center of your eyelids.

the cafe was around 5 minutes away from your house, so you decided to walk. it was a good dose of vitamin D, and you needed some fresh air.

when you get there, you see her sitting in a chair. she has auburn hair in a mullet, green eyes and freckles on her face. she was wearing sweats, a compression shirt with a button-up short sleeve shirt on top.

you smiled as you sat down, placing your tote bag down. “hi!”

“hey, you look nice.” she replied. the comment caught you off guard, making you immediately flustered.

“thank you.” you said back “you look nice too. wanna order anything? its on me don’t worry.”

“nono i got it, thank you for the offer.” you and ellie went up to the counter placing your orders. ellie ordered an iced americano with a marble cake. you weren’t really hungry, so you just ordered a matcha.

you both sat down at the table and started talking. you both talked like it was your last day on earth. you told each other your personal lives, schooling, etc.

you both talked so much that you guys lost track of time. before you knew it, the sun was starting to set. “wanna see the sunset? lets see if it has pretty colors today.” she asked.

“yess, i love sunsets.” you said. you got your bag, and headed out the door with her. you decided to walk to the local park and watch the sunset.

you both sat down on the grass, enjoying the view. a random wave of drowsiness hit you. before you knew it, your head was on ellies shoulder and you were out like a light.

15 minutes later you wake up from her shoulder, still at the park. the sun had fully set, and you realized what had happened.

“im so sorry, i didn’t mean to.” you said.

“dont worry, i kinda enjoyed it actually.” ellie replied back, soothing your worries.

“yup, shes still bold.” you thought. “this was fun ellie. im gonna head home now, we should do this again sometime.” you told her enthusiastically.

“me too, this was very nice. see you again sometime soon.” she replied.

before you went to bed, you got another message from her.

“goodnight.” ellie said

“goodnight.” you replied back

the next morning, you were bombarded with texts. and you liked it.

for the next 3 days, you both were talking from sun up to sun down, never getting bored. you noticed ellie was being bold and flirting with you. “two can play that game.” you thought to yourself.

e: “i missed you these past couple of days.”

r: “oh really? how bad did you miss me.”

e: “i missed you so much i couldnt stop thinking about you. you’re so beautiful.”

r: “you really have a way with words, yk that right?”

e: “maybe.”

r: “since when are you the flirty type?”

e: “ive always been. why? too much to handle?”

r: “no, i like it. its cute from you.”

e: “when you slept on my shoulder by accident the other day, you had me nervous. in a good way. i wish you just stayed there forever”

r: “its just my touch i have on people. if you miss me so much come over.”

e: “omw.”

10 minutes later, the doorbell rang. you felt a rush of excitement.

you answered the doorbell, seeing her leaning on the doorframe. “did you fly down the highway?” you asked sarcastically. “thats only something i know.” she replied

you both went to your bedroom. it was pink with green vines and fairy lights. cds and posters spread according to match the aesthetic.

you sat on the floor, and ellie sat down on your bed, lying down to your plushies then eventually getting up.

“you’re the only thing ive been thinking about lately.” she started

“is that so? do i make you feel special?” you respond

“i wont lie, you kinda do. everything about you. i love all of it. your eyes, your hair, your style.” she spoke, all saying this while running her fingers through your hair. you felt like you falling, your heart was racing and your stomach was doing flips.

you got up off the floor and sat on the bed. she placed her hand on your knee and started doing circles with her thumbs, letting you get tingles all over your body. you both look at each other, and didnt break eye contact. you were getting nervous, so you started blushing and immediately turned away in embarrassment. “hey!” she said in a playful tone. you both eventually held hands while looking at each others eyes.

“no ones made me feel like this before” you told her.

“good, then let me be the first.” she spoke.

when you looked down she touched your face and kissed your cheek. you felt satisfied, and your whole face felt red. her soft kisses on your skin felt so relaxing. the feelings you both have kept hidden from the moment you say each other were about to become transparent.

the tension between you both was louder than any words ever spoken before. you both looked at each others lips, and started kissing, becoming drunk in each other. her taste of love was so special and sweet. so sweet that it made you dizzy. you felt like a spell was casted upon the both of you, like you could stay up all night, and never be tired. love felt so easy in that moment, and it made you want more of her. you both couldn’t get enough of each other, wanting to feel each others rush.

the touch of each other made it seemed like it lasted forever. she pulled away from your lips.

“can i be your girlfriend?” she asked you.

fuck, she did have a way of her words. the words themselves can make you levitate from the thoughts of her.

“you dont know how long ive been waiting for that question.” you told her. “absolutely.”

just as you were running out of love, you found the person you needed the most.

hours and hours what do I do now? baby

with no clue, i need you quickly

i need to feel your rush, drive me crazy and I know

i just can't get enough.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie willaims #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #twice #with youth #rush twice

74 notes · View notes

rogersideup · 8 months ago

Text

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter four

Pink Peonies

Series masterlist

Previous part: expendable next part: Rearview

Word count: 7,972

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts, anxiety, and sever depression.

The week leading up to your final evaluation was nothing short of absolutely miserable.

Between losing Steve and Bucky, the only two people that made the compound a bearable place for you, fully processing your breakup with Harvey, and the stress that came along with such an important test made you feel like you were completely lost.

You showed up to work and private training like a good little agent regardless of how much internal pain you felt looking at Steve's face. You endured the two hours of uncomfortable silence with him after enduring working alongside Harvey for 5 hours, then went to the gym and worked out to make sure you stayed prepared and in tip top shape for evaluation.

But once your day was done and you were left to your own devices, it felt like you were shattering and crumbling between the walls of reality.

You could barely eat with the constant stomach ache you've had since Friday night, you could barely sleep through the sheer amount of racing thoughts in your head or the pain of your heart that felt physically broken, and in the morning you barely got yourself out of bed.

Showering and brushing you teeth felt like fighting a war, drinking water might as well have been an Olympic sport, your hair stayed up in a bun or a ponytail because doing anything more than brushing it wasn't in the cards for you.

The highlight of your day recently had been a phone call from Jane and Luca around 6:30pm, it was simple but still enough to keep you going. Your sister fed you just enough encouragement to get to your evaluation, and your nephew was just adorable enough to put a smile on your face even if it was short lived. They encouraged you to keep going, and promised they would be there for you on evaluation day.

It was a graduation of some sorts. Agents got to have close friends and family come watch and support them on the test day, and you we're looking forward to them finally getting to be in the compound with you.

However, all the happiness of Luca getting to live his dreams of seeing the Avengers compound was clouded with anxiety about Steve. You knew he would see his favorite superhero, and you knew there was absolutely nothing you could do to keep that from happening. But you were unwilling to not have your favorite little human not at such a monumental achievement in your life.

Luca watching you become an official, fully operable agent was important to him, almost more than it was to you. So you just hoped and prayed that Steve would react kindly to him, and your sister would react kindly towards Steve after knowing everything that happened between you two. For your sake and the five year old's, you needed everyone to just momentarily pretend like everything is alright.

The night before the big day had you in shambles. Your hands had been shaking with anxiety all day long, and as every minute passed and got closer to evaluation day, the anticipation killed you a little less slowly and a lot more aggressively.

You tried everything you could to calm your nerves. The animated movie illuminating your living room was going by unwatched, the comforting bowl of pho you got yourself was getting colder and less enjoyable with every individual noodle you convinced yourself you had to eat, and the quick shower you needed to take turned from a 10 minute task to a 45 minute one. You couldn't convince yourself to get in, then once the hot water rushed against your body with a comforting pressure, you couldn't convince yourself to get out.

Eventually the walls of your apartment felt like they were swallowing you whole, and no nook or cranny could provide you enough peace to calm your mind. So you threw on a big hoodie and grabbed a blanket before walking the halls until making it outside of the high tech building and onto the lawn.

You found a perfect spot tucked away by the building, it was clear enough out to see all of the stars twinkling in the night sky, and the moon was big and bright. So you laid out your blanket, and laid out on the underneath the night sky.

Rather than letting all of your thoughts and all of the new changes in your life scare you, you tried to slow them down and think through them logically. You thought about everything Steve said to you, what his feelings for you meant and how they affected what you thought you once knew about him and what they meant for you in the future.

You thought about how Harvey was probably going to fail his evaluation tomorrow, and how he would proceed after the fact. Would he give up working for Shield, or would he try again come next evaluation day?

You tried your hardest to avoid thinking about Bucky, because the situation with him was a new kind of pain. The platonic love you had for him was immeasurable, and day by day you found it harder to not forgive him. Because when it came down to it, you understood why he told Steve about your one time escapade. But for as long as Steve was upset, you knew it wasn't worth trying to mend your friendship with Bucky.

Rather than trying to run away from all of the hurt in your heart, the stars and the moon encouraged to you sit in those feelings for awhile. You got about 20 minutes into accepting them for what they were and working through them without pushing them away.

A few tears rolled down your cheeks, but you accepted those too. Instead of wiping them off your face, you just let them drip off the bottom of your jaw with the understanding that they would dry when they were ready.

Footsteps and booming laughter approaching from a distance made you sit up instead of laying flat on your back, not wanting to worry the people about to walk though the area. You tucked your knees to your chest and hugged your legs while continuing to watch an occasional lonesome cloud slowly pass by in the dark sky.

All of the grounding work you did to try and calm your mind and ease your broken heart was reversed as the laughter and footsteps came closer, and you started to recognize the people that the voices belong to. And sure enough, they came into eyesight faster than the universe allowed you to walk away.

Steve and Bucky turned the corner, and they were obviously very happy. Their laughter over what you assumed was an inside joke you were never included in didn't falter. Their happiness and humor felt insensitive at the moment, there was a split moment where you couldn't fathom that they were so jovial at time where you haven't genuinely smiled in almost a week.

You curled yourself up smaller and held your breath, hoping they wouldn't notice you or your slow falling tears. Though you were quiet, made yourself small, and sat in the dark on the grass furthest from the concrete path, they were trained to sense other people around them.

As if you had greeted them first they both stopped at the same time, their laughter fading just to give a friendly greeting to whoever was sitting out there. Only when they looked at you did you try to subtly wipe your tears and unblock your nose. With the hood of your jacket over your head, you could tell it took them a moment to recognize it was you.

You could see the very second your identity dawned on them, both of their shoulders fell and Bucky's face looked apologetic. Steve looked at his watch before looking at you.

As if you knew it was going to happen, your eyes met the grass before you let them look into his. You hadn't made eye contact with him since the initial argument, and you knew that killed him slowly and painfully.

They could both tell you were hurt, but especially Steve. Every single day he's seen you at work you looked just a little worse. It was as if you were slowly deteriorating from the person he once knew. Your big bright eyes where now dull and your eyelids were heavy, your pink cheeks were pale, your energy had sunken in.

"The sprinklers go off in two minutes." Steve told you.

Not expecting either of them to actually say anything to you, your brain couldn't process his words.

"What?" You questioned, looking up at Bucky in confusion, still refusing to look at Steve.

"The lawn gets watered every night at 10pm. It's 9:58." Bucky explained, his tone of voice was apologetic with a hint of empathy. "The sprinklers turn on in 2 minutes."

"Oh..." You understood, feeling disappointed that you had to move. "Thanks."

Expecting them to walk away, you stood up and grabbed your blanket off the grass. But when you turned around, they were both still standing there. Both still staring at you.

You moved onto the path, and they still stood there and stared. Not understanding their intentions, you cocked your head to the side and raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" You questioned, requesting them to stop blocking the path so you could get home and far away from them.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked.

"Just peachy" You responded simply, pushing past their two bodies to walk along the path.

They started walking behind you, all three of you needing to get to the same elevator. Your body and mind filled with dread, hoping and praying they weren't going to follow you in and get in the same elevator as you. But just in case they were, you tried your hardest to stop crying. You were far too stubborn to let them get a rise out of you.

"You don't seem very Peachy." Bucky said. You could hear the pout and genuine concern in his voice. "We still care about you, Bug. We're worried about you."

"Don't call me that." You sadly shook your head. "And maybe speak for yourself."

Steve sighed at your comment, and you missed the way he tossed his head back trying his hardest to remain composed. He felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. Of course he cared about you, of course he was worried, but he was also mad and didn't want his words to be misconstrued as him trying to make advances towards you.

Bucky backhandedly smacked Steve's chest, trying to get him to say something. You heard the impact, and tried not to smile at Bucky trying his hardest to make it better.

As suddenly Bucky found out that Steve had feelings for you, he started recognizing that you also had very deeply suppressed feelings for him too. The difference was that you pushed them down because your heart was so disconnected from your soul from the amount of torment you went through on a daily basis. Your confidence had never been lower, you genuinely believed you weren't worthy of love, and no part of your heart was open enough to let in or accept that anyone could ever care for you the same way you did for other people.

The compound wasn't good for you, and he knew they made it worse. He wanted to fix it, he wanted both of his best friends to be happy.

"I care about you too, 306." Steve mumbled, hoping it wouldn't back fire.

You just kept walking, trying to blink back the new rush of tears in your eyes and noting that the sprinklers did really turn on at 10 o'clock.

"Why are you out here so late? You have a big day tomorrow." Bucky noted. "I know you're upset and rightfully mad at us, but I'll be there cheering you on tomorrow. No matter what happens I'm always rooting for you."

"Are you sure that's not going to make things weird?" You sassed, but your comment wasn't directed towards him. It was meant for Steve, and he felt the bitterness in every word.

Once again, you heard Bucky's metal hand make harsh contact with Steve's chest. This time it was accommodated with a small 'oof' but he had nothing to say in response to that comment.

"You're going to do great." Bucky said.

You reached the door to the lobby and Steve rushed to the handle to open it, but you got to it before he did, pulling it open and walking through, letting each of the boys hold it open for themselves.

"Thanks." You accepted.

A thick and uncomfortable silence took over as they followed you to the elevator, waited for the doors to open, then the three of you got into the small confined space together.

The silence was so intense that they could hear your tiny sniffles, and you nearly bumped Steve with your elbow as you rushed to wipe away a tear.

They rode it up to your floor first since they lived 3 floors above you, and you felt immediately relief as it stopped on your floor and the doors slid open once more.

Steve's heart thumped so hard he could hear the rush of blood in his ears. He knew this was his last chance to say something before your big day, and he knew he would kick himself if he didn't.

"Good luck." Steve offered with an artificial tight lipped smile. "It'll be easy for you, promise."

As if he said nothing at all, you got off completely unaffected by his words.

"We love you!" Bucky shouted as the doors closed behind him.

You got back to your place and bolted the locks behind you, not even letting yourself begin to unpack that interaction before diving straight into your bed and willing yourself to sleep.

Unfortunately, the morning came way too fast. Your phone was flooding with notifications from your out of state friends and family wishing you well on your big day. And as you slid into your uniform, and did your hair and makeup, you started receiving texts that your support had arrived to the compound.

Making the walk down to the training room and getting checked in was the scariest part. Once everything was set in place and you were waiting for your evaluation to start, you stretched out your arms, legs, and back while looking out into the crowd of your colleagues friends and family.

Surprisingly, you were feeling pretty good. You spotted your Mom and Dad, Sister and Brother in law, Luca all sitting clumped together. Sitting with them was Bucky and Natasha, who also brought along Tony who sat with sunglasses on and a face so straight while he pretended like he wasn't there.

Then walked in Steve, him and Commander Bennett, and Agent Maria Hill were the three leaders who graded each agent on their final and most important test.

The grading system was simple. It was pass or fail, with a note explaining why.

You could hear Luca's little voice through the small crowd of people when Steve walked in wearing his suit. His tiny little voice projecting the announcement that "Oh my gosh CAPTAIN AMERICA IS HERE!" Was just too damn cute for anyone to ignore. It earned lots of laughs from everyone in the room, and it brought a big smile to Steve's face.

Of course he immediately knew who that voice belonged to, but that didn't stop him from finding him in the crowd and waving at him. He understood why you loved the kid so much, he was just about the cutest thing Steve had ever seen.

He noticed Luca looking at you after he waved at him, so he looked at you too. You had a big smile on your face just for five year old who was bouncing with excitement, but Steve could tell the difference between your genuine happiness and the fake smile smeared on your lips.

Eventually the evaluation started. Agents were tested 5 at a time, all running the same sort of obstacle course and shooting test. By the end of each evaluation, it seemed as though each agent was struggling to catch their breath while dripping sweat. A few of them even sprawled out on the floor the second they crossed the finish line.

But you? When you finished your evaluation Steve noticed you were barely panting. Not a hair on your head was out of place, your makeup was still perfect, he couldn't even spot a single bead of sweat along your hairline.

He knew it would be easy for you, he practically passed you before you were even properly evaluated, but the way you were almost unaffected by the rigorous testing and walked away from it without batting an eye was even impressive to him.

The worst thing Steve took away from this, was the understanding of how deeply down bad he was for you. Because even in the midst of the pain of hurting each others feelings, he was immensely proud of you, and never found you more attractive than in this moment.

Because even as you walked up to the three assessors to collect your results, you still refused to look him in the eye. Although his feelings for you were completely misunderstood, he respected the way you held your ground in order to protect yourself and what you believe in.

It was a big improvement from the way you let Harvey drag you along through miles of mud and utter bullshit.

When you looked down at your papers, a very humble, yet genuine smile took over this time, and Steve was happy to see it. You didn't even bother reading the notes that were written for you before walking away quickly to unite with your family.

Steve watched from afar as your parents embraced you both at the same time. Your mom left kisses on your cheeks, your dad the top of your head. With no hesitation, your sister who had your kind eyes and familiar beauty joined the hug, followed by your brother in law, then Luca who tried his hardest but just ended up with his arms embracing your legs.

He couldn't help but to smile as you bent down and picked up the 5 year old, he flopped upside down before you lifted him up and over your head to sit on your shoulders. His belly laugh bounced off the smooth walls as he reached down and grabbed your cheeks, tipping your head upwards to look at him.

"Can I meet Captain Rogers?" He asked.

In an instant, your authentic smile turned plastic. "Who?" You joked.

Steve stood a little straighter, then made awkward momentary eye contact with your dad. Steve died a little on the inside when he politely motioned asking him to come here, presumably to meet Luca, but a part of him wondered if he had heard the news of what happened between him and his daughter. Keeping a professional face, he did consider that he was about to get his ass kicked by the man who created you.

"Look, Luca, he's coming over now!" Your dad announced.

"Oh, what a joy!" Your sister smiled wide, squeezing your arms and shaking you around a bit.

Okay, Sister definitely knows.

One deep breath for you and Steve, and your brave faces were on.

"Congratulations, Agent." Steve spoke firmly as he approached. "You did great, far beyond expectations."

"Thank you, Captain." Just like that, you made eye contact with him for the first time in a week. It was a testament to deep love you had for your family, but especially for Luca. You'd be damned if you crushed his tiny superhero loving heart, so you did your best to pretend like everything was perfectly normal. Luckily, five year olds can't see lingering pain deep behind your eyes like Steve could. "This is Luca, he's very excited to meet you. He was wondering if you would take a picture with him."

"Hey buddy! I've heard so much about you!" Steve's smile widened at the boy who was in absolute shock, staring right back at him with wide sparkly eyes and a slack jaw. "I heard you're going to join the Avengers soon, is that true?"

"I'm only 5!" The boy giggled.

"What?! You look strong enough to be an Avenger!" Steve enthused, "let me see how strong you are, give me a high-five."

Steve stuck his arm up over your head, and your nephew smacked his hand as per request. After hearing their two hands meet in the middle, Steve pulled his away and shook it off "oh yeah, we definitely have a future superhero on our hands."

"My mommy and daddy said I have to be a teenager before I can be an agent like Auntie." Luca explained.

"They sound very smart." Steve chuckled at the boy who was wise beyond his years. "Is this them?"

Wonderful. Of course Steve would be the man to introduce himself to your family completely unprompted. You watched him shake hands with your dad, sister and her husband, meanwhile your mom went for a full blown hug. In that moment you wanted to shrivel up and let the floor swallow you whole, maybe rip your mom away and correct her mistakes for the improper greeting to such a highly decorated service man. But Steve took it like a champ, and you knew he loved it, which made you want to rip him away and tell him to stay away from your mom for the rest of eternity. You wanted him to stay away from you for the rest of eternity.

Looking around for Bucky and Nat, maybe even Tony, shit, even Harvey to try and get you out of your own personal hell was wildly unsuccessful. The room was far too busy and disorderly to plot an escape plan before your Dad was shoving Steve next to you and Luca with a camera in your face telling you to say cheeeeeeeeessseeeee.

Hopefully your smiling face didn't come across as vicious as it felt when that photo was inevitably plastered across social media for the entirety of the internet to see.

Eventually you managed to peel Luca and your Dad away from Steve and herd your family around the compound and up to your apartment. As you were leaving you could see Harvey with his head down, yet all of his browbeater friends were celebrating around him. It made you roll your eyes, but once again you moved on for the sake of your family.

As you approached the door with your key in hand and family behind you, there was a big, beautiful fresh flower arrangement in front of it with a card. Your mom made some comments about how beautiful it was as you picked it up and let them inside.

You had a feeling you already knew who it was from, so you left it on the kitchen counter and decided to read the card later as you vowed to spend much needed quality time with your family.

Although the beginning of the day was emotionally exhausting, the rest of the day felt like a big breath of fresh air. Spending time with your family in your own home made the compound feel so much warmer than it ever has. A good meal, lots of laughter, and so much play time with the little one had your parents exhausted and shuffling out of the compound around 7pm after more hugs and lots of kisses.

That left Luca and his dad that we're both fast asleep on the living room rug as the TV played a Disney movie, and Jane who was sitting across from you on the couch.

"I can feel you staring at me." You looked over at her with a questioning tone.

She had a loving smile on her face. "I'm proud of you. You've turned into such an incredible woman right in front of my eyes, and I'm just so grateful that I get to look up to my own little sister. How many people can say that?"

"Well, I still look up to you everyday." You denied her complement, but she was still looking at you as if there was more she had to say. "Cut to the chase."

"You've spent a lot of time crying on my couch, I need to talk about the boy." She stated.

"Which one?" You grumbled. "I hate that there's 3 options."

"Steve." She said sympathetically. "I get to call him that because he hurt my baby sister's feelings."

"At least you didn't hug him." You shrugged. "Kind've don't care about respecting titles anymore."

"I know how much he hurt you, and I know he jumped the gun and is treating you unfairly compared to Bucky. I even know that you feel like your whole friendship with him was just his attempt at trying to sleep with you, but Smalls..."

"Don't say it." You plugged your ears and sunk deeper into the couch cushions.

Jane reached out and ripped your hands away from your ears. "The way he looks at you is just so sweet. And the way he was so kind to all of us and Luca even though you two aren't on speaking terms says a lot about his character. He's head over heels for you."

"The way he looks at me?" You scoffed. "He looks at me like an asset because he wants me to join the Avengers. They all see me like a little worker ant that's going to pick up the weight of their jobs."

"No, that's not it." You sister denied. "You know the truth and you're pushing him away because he hurt you. You hurt him too, even if you didn't mean it. I can see it in his body language that he cares for you, he seemed nervous for you today, and he looked so happy when you did well. That's not someone who's just trying to sleep with you and run."

"Well even if that's the truth, it doesn't matter because he's never expressed any of that to me with his own mouth." You explained. "You know how he handled the situation was wrong, he had no right to come at me with an attitude like that. Him and Bucky had no right to put all the blame on me. If he's having big feelings, he can express them with his big boy words. I'm not going to play a stupid little game with him like we're teenagers."

"I understand, and you're right." Jane validated your emotions. "But he seems really sweet... and he's absolutely gorgeous so maybe you should just consider my point of view."

"Ugh, his gorgeousness starts going blind to your eyes after a few hours. You get used to it, that's not a reason to forgive him." You lied.

"Who are the flowers from?" She quipped, knowing you lied straight through your teeth.

"I don't know."

"Should we read the note?"

"Nope." You looked straight forward at the TV screen. "That's not a question I need answered right now."

"Smalls..."

"What?"

"His gorgeousness never gets old, does it?" She called out your lie.

“... no." You threw your head back in complaint.

Eventually the three of them left as well. The day was getting late and Luca was exhausted from so much excitement, but the second you were alone in your apartment again you felt the weight of the compound right back on your shoulders.

Anxiety bloomed deep in your stomach and crawled up to your heart as you dragged your feet over to the flower arrangement that was left untouched on your counter. Your fingers struggled to open the card, but you got there eventually.

Before you even got to the note, you noticed that the arrangement was made of your favorite flower, pink peonies.

The entirety of your relationship with Harvey, he only bought you flowers once and it was after an explosive argument. Steve and Bucky came over the next day, and without fail both of them barked out a laugh at the flowers he had chosen because they weren't even your favorite kind of flower.

You didn't necessarily remember even disclosing your favorite flowers to them, yet they always referenced the bouquet of sad looking yellow chrysanthemums from the grocery store. Of course you reminded them that the type of flower or where he got them from didn't matter to you, it was just the effort and the gesture. The boys were fast to shut that sentiment down, because really, the pretty pink peonies weren't that hard to obtain, so how he managed to mess that up too was beyond your chivalrous best friends.

It didn't take long before you opened up the card inside and recognized the handwriting on it. There was an obvious effort made as it was written neatly and the lines were nice and straight.

Congratulations, Agent!

We're all so proud of you and everything you've accomplished through hard work and dedication. We've been keeping an eye on you, and we know this journey has been difficult regardless of how easy you made it look. Watching you grow from a rookie to the highest ranking Agent Shield has ever seen has been a privilege to say the least. Although you're skillful in battle and combat, your kind heart and determination that never faltered through the journey is what will get you far. We see all the amazing qualities that make you not just a great fighter, but a great person. We could always use more people like you, and we're here whenever you're ready. From the bottom of our heart, we hope you consider a place on our team once more.

With warm regards and no pressure,

Steve + Bucky, The Avengers.

(Okay, maybe a little bit of pressure.)

You put the letter down, not allowing yourself to break down and over analyze the potential double meaning behind each of the words. The ache pounding at the back of your skull was already a nuisance, and trying to figure out why the boys were being so nice to you after treating you so poorly and denouncing your friendship was bound to make the dull ache sharper.

You dragged your feet all the way to bed before flopping in and wrapping yourself up into the tightest, fuzzy blanket cocoon.

Even with your accomplishment today, tomorrow was your first day as an official agent, and there was more work to be done.

Just like there would be the next day, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday....

Well, Monday through Thursday were pretty uneventful. You dug your head into the new work assignments you got now that you didn't have normal agent training, and you loved every second of it. It was worth all of your blood, sweat and tears to get there. Then you moved on to individual training with Steve that you painfully wished could be over soon.

All week you let him talk at you, and you never verbally responded. Just as much as you didn't want to be there, you could tell he didn't want to be there either. Today the two of you just sat as he showed and explained to you the different kinds of restraints you would be seeing out in the world on missions, then he would put them on himself and show you how to get out of them.

Deep regret was the only emotion you could use to describe the feeling of saying you would finish off your last few weeks with him working through your biggest fear. It seemed like a good idea two weeks ago when you still had full trust and confidence in him, but now he was flailing ropes, zip ties and handcuffs in your face while you sat completely silent, hoping your face wasn't giving away how unsettled you truly felt by this.

Maybe it would've been better if his voice wasn't so low or monotone, maybe if he actually had changed into gym clothes instead of sitting on the floor in his well put together office outfit you would feel less intimidated.

The only words that made you feel less uncomfortable today was that he wouldn't have you practicing any of this until tomorrow. But his words sat heavily on your mind and made your hands shake all throughout the rest of your day, they made you lose sleep that night, pulled your mind away from work the day of, and made the brain noise so loud that you had to listen to music in your headphones to keep your anxiety to a manageable level just to get yourself to even walk to training again.

Trying your absolute hardest not to think about what was about to happen, you looked down at your own two feet and counted each step as you made the walk, and let the melody of your favorite song distract you from reality.

Unfortunately your music wasn't loud enough to drown out the sounds of your name being called from behind you in the hallway empty besides you and one of three people you really didn't want to see.

So, you tried your hardest to ignore the tormenting happening behind you.

"I know you can hear me, stop being a bitch." Harvey's voice cut through the peaceful music.

"Stop walking I'm trying to talk to you."

"Baby, please. It'll only take a minute."

"I swear to fucking god!" This time he shouted and grabbed your arm, yanking it as hard as he could. An excruciating pain through your shoulder manifested as a yelp and your feet stoped in their place. Keeping hold of your wrist, Harvey used his other forearm to dig into your collarbones and shove you against the wall, using his body to cage you in. "Don't walk away when I'm trying to talk to you."

He ripped one of your AirPods out of your ears and stomped it with his foot. "What the fuck do you want?" You questioned, hoping and praying the pain in your shoulder that was radiating down your arm was nothing but a short term reaction to his assault on your body.

"You blocked my phone number, you ignore me when I try to talk to you in person. How am I ever supposed to get through to you?" He scolded, getting all up in your face as an intimidation tactic.

"You're not supposed to." You sassed. "That's the point. Will you let me go now? You're going to make me late."

"Did you pass evaluation?" He asked.

"I'll tell you if you let me go."

"Of course you did." He got even closer and his voice louder. The whole font of his body was pressing into yours, creating an uncomfortable vice between him and the wall. "You never would've passed had it not been for your scheduled time to jerk off Captain Rogers every day."

"Is that what you're telling yourself to feel better about your failed assessment?" You asked, exhausted of the narrative that your success only came at the mercy of the men around you.

"Why would you think I failed?"

"Because you're sloppy, you don't take your job or the training seriously, you've spent more of you energy worrying about me more than yourself, oh, and your uniform still has the rookie patch on it." You let your words flow out of you like venom. Frankly, you didn't care if it upset him, traveled through his blood and left a toxic taste in his mouth.

Your shoulder was killing you, you were tired and angry, and in the middle of an argument with two grown men over the fact that you quite literally did not jerk Steve off. So yeah, you weren't going to bat your eyelashes and smile at a man who had you pinned against a wall.

Harvey was speechless for a moment, so you continued. "So, I don't think you failed, I know you failed. And I didn't only pass because of Steve. He helped me, but I was doing well before him and I'll continue to do well after him."

You used all your force to shove Harvey off of you, in a moment of shock from your words and behavior, he stumbled back. Then, he was angry all over again.

He tried to throw a punch right at your jaw, but you blocked it, and kicked him right in the stomach. Not hard enough to intend to hurt him, but hard enough to knock him off of his feet and flat on the ground.

With a groan and some struggle, he tried to get up. So you left your foot flat on his stomach as a statement. It quickly got him to stay down.

"Don't you ever try to contact me again. Not through my phone, not to my face, never." You practically growled, still trying to make sure he couldn't tell that he had caused you pain.

Once you were positive that you got your point across, only then did you remove your foot from his body, pick up your broken AirPod to keep as evidence, then start walking away.

“Everyone knows what you and Sargent Barnes did." His voice sounded from behind you.

You stopped in your tracks, oxygen momentarily leaving your lungs. "What exactly did Sargent Barnes and I do?" You asked while keeping a stern face, hoping it was all the same rumors that float around about you and Steve.

"I don't even have to tell you, because you already know what you did." Harvey denied your peace of mind. "Now I know what everyone else knows to. I should've never trusted that you were just friends with both him and Captain Rogers, and that you're the biggest slut in this place."

This time you really did walk away, ignoring his last attempts at getting you to bite into his bait by calling you a whore from his spot in the hallway unable to peel himself off of the ground.

Once he couldn't see you anymore, tears flooded your eyes but you couldn't tell of it was from the physical or emotional pain, and your gripped your shoulder trying to rationalize that you didn't need to go to the medical bay.

The last thing you wanted to do now was see Steve, but you hoped he would go easy on you considering the circumstances.

Your faith in his ability to be a kind and empathetic person completely faltered as your pushed through the doors to the gym and he was already angry at you.

"You're late." He told you sternly, his face was set in a disappointment.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and squeezed your shoulder, hoping the added pressure would help sooth your pain.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be late. I was on time then Ha-" You started explaining, looking at him with fear and tears in your eyes.

"I don't need an excuse." Steve grumbled, cutting you off and very obviously in a foul mood.

He started walking towards you with a rope in his hand, and your heart dropped to your stomach. "Wait, please just- I was on my way here but Harv-"

"I don't care, it's fine." Steve cut you off again. "We're already behind on time, let's just start."

He got close enough to touch you, and you instinctively took a big step back, but it didn't even phase Steve. He grabbed your hand off your shoulder and put it behind your back. Bracing yourself for the pain of him inevitably grabbing your other arm, you frantically let the words "he hurt me" Spill out of your mouth like vomit.

But it didn't come out fast enough, and before you knew it, both of your arms were behind your back and the pain shooting through your arm combined with the devastating realization that Steve didn't care about you anymore made you feel like you were going to be sick.

You could feel the rope around your wrist becoming uncomfortably tight, each knot he tied added another knot to your stomach. "Zero percent."

"What?" He questioned.

Your tears spilled over the edge. "Zero percent trust in you right now. Please stop and just listen to me for one second."

"You're only saying that because you're scared of the restraints." Steve rationalized. "I showed you how to get out, you'll be fine."

"You don't understand" You cried, feeling more and more unsettled by the second, a deep panic settling in your stomach. "Please, I'm trying to tell you what just happened and you aren't listening to me"

He finished up the knot then turned around to face you again. "This is the first time you've tried to even have a conversation with me in two weeks, why should I hear you out when you won't even begin to let me speak to you?"

Steve sat you down on a chair, and started tying your feet. Everything in you told you to fight it, but you were feeling unexpectedly scared of him. You knew you could never match his strength to fight off his efforts and you could never outrun him.

Your friend Steve was nowhere to be found, in front of you was only a dark and stormy Captain America. A weapon of a man with no intention of switching on the safety.

By unintentionally denying his affection towards you two weeks ago, you loaded him up and now the barrel was was pointed directly at your chest. Now, there was no empathy for your fear, no husbandry to make you feel more comfortable in a situation you told him you never wanted to be in, and no regard to what you just went through.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to tell you now because odds are you're going to hear about it eventually because-"

"Okay then I'll hear about it when it gets back to me. We really need to get this going" He told you. "Just calm down, and try to get out how I showed you yesterday."

"You're mad at me, and I get that, but I need my boss right now." You cried, yanking at the ropes on your wrists and ankles, none of them budging.

"I'm not your boss anymore, I haven't been since you passed evaluation." He told you, setting a timer on his phone for 54 minutes. "I only have an hour for training today because I was double booked. I'm going to leave you here to calm yourself down and figure out how to get out. I'll be right back there, either come get me when you're out, or I'll untie you at the end of the hour if you can't do it."

"Steve, don't walk away from me right now, I'm trying to tell you I need a medic." You said frantically, your panic attack hitting you harder by the second.

"Out on a mission we don't get to pick and choose when we get held hostage, consider this extra practice." He started to walk off.

You felt pathetic as your lungs stung with every panting breath, your hands shook as your fingers tried their hardest to untie the knot Steve made sure to pull extra tight, your stomach churned with uncontrollable fear, and your heart thumped so strongly and passionately that you could hear it in your ears despite the physical pain you felt in chest.

Whenever you had panic attacks, your skin broke out in a red splotchy tint, and the world seemed to spin around like a bad case of vertigo. It felt like the floor beneath you was crumbling and cracking with every moment passing, as the walls slowly closed in and the ceiling came down.

Black fuzzies and watery tears altered your vision as you pushed past the pain and tried to get your hands free. It only took about 15 minutes before the rope fell to the floor and the circulation rushed back to your hands. Untying your feet was a lot easier with two free hands, but still mildly difficult with Steve's knot tying skills and the sharp sting in your shoulder every time you exerted your arm.

You got out, you never doubted that you could. But that was never the point, and Steve would've known that had he ever just listened to you. That only fueled your panicked rage as you grabbed the ropes off the floor and stomped over to him, sitting in the very back corner of the gym watching you with a blank look on his face.

The thick ropes smacked the floor right next to his legs, exactly where you aimed as you snapped them out of your hands. "I have no interest in completing the rest of the hour you so graciously gifted me, and absolutely no interest in training with you ever again."

Steve was taken back by the fiery rage that was being directed at him. He knew he was being hard on you, but he was only being hard on you because he thought you could take it. "Woah, hold on. Let's just take a breather for a second."

"No, I don't need a fucking breather, you dipshit." You shouted at him, tears still flowing, hands still shaking. "I need to go see the doctor, that's what I need and that's what you're not understanding. I needed you to listen, I needed you to understand that I wasn't trying to get out of the lesson. I wasn't scared of your fucking ropes, I was scared of Harvey, and now I'm scared of you."

Steve immediately felt awful as your hand found your shoulder again, now that he was getting a better look he could tell it definitely wasn't in the right place. He gulped understanding that he let his pre-existing bad mood deepen the hole he dug your friendship into. "I'm sorry I didn't realize..."

"Now it's my turn to not care." You cried. "I didn't lose trust in you before, not even after you came into my apartment and yelled at me for what I did with Bucky, maybe a little after I found out our whole friendship was just because you wanted to get into my pants. But this stunt you just pulled? You've broken every ounce of trust I've ever given you and I don't think it'll ever be repaired."

"I- I didn't mean to." He said quietly, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have been so hard on you, I'm sorry, I was in a bad mood and I just... let it out on you and it wasn't fair."

"I don't deserve to be treated like this over one mistake, Steve. One. I'm sorry I accidentally hurt you, it was never my intention and I'll regret that till the day I die but I never deserved this." You cried. "Please just leave me alone now. I don't want formalities or pleasantries in passing, I don't want anymore flowers or congratulations, I don't want anything other than to just be left alone now. Because I can't do this anymore."

"Okay, I'm sorry." He surrendered, recognizing the agony you were truly in over this.

"This was way worse than anything I ever did to you." Your voice cracked. "It's a good thing you aren't my boss anymore, because as far as you're concerned I don't even exist to you anymore."

He couldn't mutter anything close to a proper apology or even a goodbye as you stomped away from him for the very last time.

Next Part: Rearview

OOP… angsty. Sound off in my inbox! I want to hear all your juicy opinions!

Taglist: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qualijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @klaralovescaptainamerica @alexakeyloveloki

197 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 11 months ago

Text

Mr. Black, Part 3

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. TOXIC FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre has left you alone with your thoughts for too long. You're starting to think it's time to stop...whatever this is between you. But Tre just won't let you.

Word Count: 4,174k

A/N: Why is this man so damn hot. Good lordt. I ain't been able to think of anything else! How did this taglist get so big? I love yall, frfr. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj @pinkpantheris @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque

Tre was busy. It was two days before Christmas and he was under a deadline to whip the company into shape before the end of the year. He had left you alone for the most part. Left you alone to wonder what the hell you were doing with him.

It wasn’t like this could go anywhere. He was your boss and there was no way that this could continue. You did eventually want to move up in the company, have your own desk with a view, and call the shots. To have your own pretty assistant that you could look at all day.

You simply could not continue. Yet, the thought of stopping made you violently ill. Who knew that getting this job would result in the best sex you ever had? Too bad it had to be with an asshole like Tre.

You worked on the invoices, growing anxious as the days went on. Not only did you look at the latest one, you went back to every invoice this year for that contract. This was not in your job duties. You worked around them, rising up to Tre’s challenging demands the closer it got to Christmas.

He was trying to zap the Christmas spirit out of you day by day. He turned into a gremlin before your eyes, demanding shit left and right. What did you expect? That he’d go easy on you just because you sucked his dick?

He could have anyone he wanted in the office. And you were not the begging sort. It took you longer to do things, longer to understand things, and that was okay. People were hardly direct these days and expected you to read their minds. You didn’t have that superpower. The only thing you could do was your best and that would have to be enough.

After just a few months of working for him, you knew the rhythm of Tre’s footfalls by now. He was approaching and you schooled your features. If he wanted to be an asshole, you didn’t have to give him any satisfaction that it bothered you.

“Come into the office,” he said tiredly.

“No,” you said. Your heart thumped in your throat. An avalanche of fear and adrenaline made the paper you were holding jump in your hand. You placed it on your desk to hide your shaking. You hated confrontation.

It was the worst feeling. You hated communicating in a healthy way that something was bothering you. You let it fester until it bubbled in your gut, spilling over in an explosive wave of anger, insults, and hurt feelings. You didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Not that you could possibly hurt Tre’s. He probably locked them away in tiny little boxes and threw them in the bottom of the sea.

“Run that back,” Tre said, smoothly. His voice didn’t rise or fall. He sounded quite bored. You kept your eyes trained on the invoice in front of you. The numbers started to swim before your eyes. Whatever place you stopped at was lost to you now. You’d have to start over for this one.

“I’m busy. Please email or chat me about what you would like handled during your lunch,” you said. You swallowed painfully around the lump in your throat. You hoped you sounded just as cool and in control.

You found that you didn’t have a lick of will against him. Too weak to resist that solid man and his black outfits. You wanted to jump through hoops for him. And that was the scariest thought of all. It couldn’t go anywhere.

Did you want it to?

A wall of black entered your peripheral vision. You flattened your hands on your desk. You felt sick to your stomach, but you had to remain firm.

“Look at me,” Tre demanded.

“No.” You bit the inside of your cheek. Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong.

Tre huffed an incredulous laugh. He placed his hands in his pockets, calling attention to the fact that you were nearly pressed against his groin. You bit your cheek harder, trying with all your might to resist.

You really shouldn’t be having sex at the office anyway. You were only bound to get caught. The walls were thin and the smell of sex lingered in his office well after you were done. You took the liberty of buying a candle that smelled like driftwood and fresh green apples to help.

The janitorial staff weren’t stupid, however. There were only so many tissues one used per day. Plus, your poor pussy needed a damn break. With that animal between his legs, it was a wonder you were able to stand properly at all.

Tre called your name, pulling your attention back towards him. He leaned down as if he were pointing something out to you. “If you think I’m above snatching you up and throwing you over my shoulder, I’d rethink that,” he said, dropping his deep voice to barely above a whisper.

You closed your eyes briefly, picturing him throwing you over his shoulder like a caveman. Maybe mindreading did exist after all. He managed to peg your particular kinks down to a science. You opened your eyes and finally looked at him.

His face was set into a smug smirk. His beard was neat and trimmed, covering the lower half of his face. His glasses caught the light overhead so it obscured parts of his eyes. He was dressed in all black, his usual, and he looked damn good. His deep onyx skin looked good enough to lick.

“I am quite busy and your lunch is getting cold,” you said, matching his quiet tone.

“How can that be when my lunch is sitting right here?”

You hated that your pussy fluttered. That you wanted what his eyes and smug smile promised. Your attention turned to his lips and he took his time licking them. His pink tongue darted out and dragged from one side to the other.

“Sir–”

Tre moved so fast, you barely registered that he was yanking your chair from your desk. A yelp sprang from your chest but you swallowed it back down, lest you draw attention to yourself.

“Okay! Okay!” You said, your heart thumping at the thought of someone catching him and his wild ass antics. This had to stop. You got to your feet and he smiled wider, spreading his arm out for you to walk ahead of him.

You smiled sweetly, but your eyes blazed with fire. You walked ahead of him, your heels digging into the gray carpet, and entered his office. The lunch you grabbed for him was sitting on his desk. So much for your brilliant plan.

You hoped that you could avoid this scenario by leaving his lunch there and saying without words that you were not on the menu. Nothing was ever easy with Tre. You almost wished that he hadn’t started this little game. You longed for a few days ago when you thought he hated you and you were planning on quitting.

Tre closed the door and the turn of the lock made your nerves skitter along your spine. You clasped your hands in front of your blue and gold dress and stood away from the door. Tre faced you and tilted his head.

“Why aren’t you sitting on the desk?” He asked.

“I’ve been thinking–”

Tre chuckled. “This ought to be good,” he said. He cleared his throat and dramatically sat on the end of his desk, rubbing his hands together idly. Bastard.

You crossed your arms but then lowered them. You were an adult. It was time to use your big girl words.

“I am not a sex doll. You cannot snap your fingers and have me come running whenever you want me to. I- We shouldn’t be doing this at the office anyway. We’re going to get caught eventually,” you said.

It would be downright mortifying if everyone found out. Not only would you lose any respect around the office, you’d have to quit on the spot. This was the most responsibility you had ever been given at a job.

Grabbing lunch and coffee and transcribing notes were not important job duties, but it beat the hell out of working at a college bookstore. You had hated the fake smiling, the dusting, and the entitled customers. You hated that your boss sat on her lazy ass all day, couldn’t process a single transaction at the register, openly played on her phone, and had the nerve to complain if you leaned against the counter for half a second.

You practically ran that damn store and what did you have to show for it? Nothing but minor sales experience that didn’t qualify you for shit. You were making grown money now. Nothing near what Tre made, but you could afford to treat yourself every now and then. You liked the freedom. And you scolded yourself for putting yourself in this situation.

Tre tilted his head and looked at you, his eyes starting at your feet and working its way up. It should be illegal to look at someone like that. “When you get all feisty like that, it makes me wanna fuck that attitude out of you,” he said.

You sighed. He was never going to take you seriously. Tre held up his hands.

“I don’t mean to treat you like a sex doll, okay? You drive me insane.” He stood up from the desk and approached you. You backed away because you already knew that if he breathed in your direction, you’d be dropping to your knees.

He followed you until he got in your face anyway, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek. That touch alone set your skin on fire where he touched. “I’m addicted to the way you taste. The way you walk. The face you make when I first slide in. That fuckin’ body,” he said and licked his lips.

“That’s still using me for my body,” you said.

He smirked. “I like that you’re not weak. And that you’re a kind person. You care about the people around here even though you’ve never met them. You feed birds and help around the office. You put up with my shit when anyone else would’ve quit on the first day,” he said.

You swallowed. You had no idea he paid so much attention to you. “You won’t even kiss me,” you said.

Tre smiled. “Is that what this is about? You want a kiss?” Tre leaned in and you leaned away.

“I don’t want a pity kiss,” you said.

“It’s not a pity kiss. Come here,” he said. He placed his hands on your curvy waist and drew you closer to the heat of his body. He licked his lips again before bringing his face closer to yours. You turned your head at the last second and he kissed your cheek. His beard was so damn soft, your knees trembled.

“How can I make this right?” He asked.

“By listening to me. We…shouldn’t do this anymore,” you said. You both got your rocks off and some kinks out of the way. That should be the end of it. You had a wild story to tell your best friend and grandkids one day. You would die with no regrets in your heart.

“Whoa, whoa. Are you trying to end this?” He asked. His fingers turned bruising, squeezing you tightly.

“I think so. Yeah,” you said. You nodded your head. Yes, you were trying to end this. “Quit while we’re ahead before something bad happens.”

Tre blinked behind his glasses and you instantly felt bad. He looked genuinely hurt and it baffled you. He ought to be happy. Why wasn’t he happy about this?

“I thought we were having fun?” He asked.

“We were! A lot of fun. But, let’s be real about this.”

“But don’t I give you what you need? Don’t I make you feel good?” Tre asked. He closed the distance between you, ran his hands over your hips. “Don’t you like the way I make this pussy sing for me?”

The back of your thighs tingled. “You don’t play fair.” A few well placed words in that deep timbre of his and you were already melting. He liked that you weren’t weak? What a joke.

“No, I don’t,” Tre said and smiled. He kissed your cheek, making a show of not kissing you on the lips. Great, now he was going to tease you about that too.

“Sir, can you honestly say that you don’t worry about doing this so often in the office? Anyone can walk by and hear us. Someone can knock on the door right now and it’d be obvious what we’re doing. You will get a slap on the back. But me? I’d be laughed out of here. You have the luxury of not thinking–”

Tre’s lips pressed into yours and you gasped with surprise. His tongue swooped in, seeking yours. His tongue was surprisingly rough. It toyed with yours, exploring your mouth. Your body heated instantly, responding to his kiss.

It was better than what you had been imagining the past few weeks. It was slow and sensual. He took his time sucking your lips into his mouth, running his tongue across the width of them before retreating and diving back in. He hummed into the kiss and the vibration made you hum in response.

His hands cupped your face, tilting your head to the side so he could deepen it. He sucked on your bottom lip and you felt your panties grow damp. Shit. You were supposed to remain firm. Stick to your resolve.

Instead, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders and pulled him closer to you. Tre growled low in his throat and his hands lowered down your thighs until he reached the hem of your dress. He dragged the material upwards until it pooled around your waist.

His hands moved your silky panties to the side, his thumb immediately finding your clit. You moaned as his calloused thumb traced wet circles around it. “Feel that pussy gettin’ wet for me?” He asked against your lips.

You held onto his shoulders for dear life as he played with your pussy the way he played with your mouth. He slowly moved his thumb in small concentric circles, your arousal gushing out of you.

“S-Sir,” you whispered. “Please.”

“Tell me to stop because I can’t. Tell me,” he said.

Your body shook against him. He was supporting your weight effortlessly while he systematically broke you down mind, body, and spirit.

You whimpered as your belly tightened painfully. Oh fuck, you couldn’t speak.

“Tell me to stop because I don’t have the strength to resist you anymore,” he said.

He kissed you again as his thumb increased in pressure. You whined as your orgasm finally swept through you, burning you from the inside out. Tre held you while you convulsed in his arms, your legs turning to jelly.

Tre picked you up and moved you over to the office chairs in front of his desk. He sat you down and kissed your cheek. “I have something for you.”

“What?” You asked.

Tre sucked on his thumb while he rounded his desk. He opened his desk drawer and plucked something from it. He walked back around the desk and knelt beside you. He held a rectangular turquoise box.

Your eyes widened as you shook your head. “I can’t accept that,” you whispered weakly. Your head spun. This day was not going according to plan and it was driving you nuts. You had clear intentions this morning when you woke up, determined to stick to it. To not get so easily distracted. Yet here you were. Pussy out and shaking off an orgasm. Again.

Tre smirked and opened the box. Inside, there was a thick gold chain with a small letter “T” in the middle. Your hands reached out to touch it but you drew back, not wanting your fingerprints all over it.

“I can’t accept this, Sir,” you said. You looked at him but he only lifted an eyebrow.

He took the chain out of the box and then scooted back. You watched as he slipped off your heel and then looped the chain around your right foot. He slid the chain upward until it nestled around your thigh.

Tre grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Knew I got the size right.” He kissed your thigh.

Your head tilted as you stared at the chain around your thigh. The small letter tickled as it settled against you. “Sir–”

“You’re going to keep it. If I find out you took it off, that’s your ass,” he said.

“I’m trying to break up with you!” You said.

Tre nodded and looked at his watch. Ignoring you completely, he grabbed your wrists and yanked you from the seat. He sat down where you previously occupied and quickly unzipped his pants, freeing that beautiful dick of his.

He shoved his pants down and then roughly grabbed your hips. “Sir!”

You slapped at his hands but he continued to ignore you. He pulled you until you straddled him. It was tricky to maneuver around the handles of the chair but it was almost like he had this exact scenario in his head when purchasing these chairs. It was wide and plush, able to accommodate not only his big frame but also you in his lap.

“Got a meeting in ten, gonna have to make this quick,” he said.

Mind always on his damn business. You shoved at him, but his fingers found your clit again. You were soaked from your earlier orgasm and he moaned low and deep.

“Tell me to stop,” he demanded. His eyes found yours and he paused, waiting for you to make a decision. Weren’t you here to tell him to fuck off? To end…whatever the hell this was?

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

Tre grinned widely, a downright wicked smile that melted you like butter in a frying pan. He moved your panties to the side again, running the tip of his dick along your slick folds. You groaned as he slipped inside.

“That face there,” Tre moaned.

You had no idea what you looked like right now. Perhaps a madwoman. Perhaps an idiot. The only thing you knew was that you needed him like a bad habit.

You wished you could see the expanse of his chest. Not just his exposed neck. Sometimes he wore ties, but for the most part he kept the top few buttons loose. You licked your lips, leaning forward to finally lick that vein in his neck.

His hips jerked sloppily and he groaned. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezing this dick like a good girl,” he said.

You dropped your head to his shoulder as those words activated the demon inside of you. You couldn’t scream like you wanted to or truly bounce on his dick. But you could match his strokes and contract on his dick, sucking him into your body. You rode him more than he made you ride him.

His hand gripped the chain around your thigh. The chain dug into your skin as if he wanted to brand the “T” into it. His head was thrown back. His glasses fogged up and his lips moved, murmuring something you couldn’t hear. The pleasure on his face made you grind into him harder, take him in deeper, and wrap your hands around his neck.

You chased your pleasure. Your heavy breaths were rushed, escaping you. You thought of nothing else but the slide of his dick inside you.

“Take what you need. Take this dick,” he groaned.

And you took it. You rode him until your body squeezed with undiluted bliss. Euphoria zipped through you, catching you on a hook and pulling you through time and space. You were mindful of your moans, biting down on his jacket to keep from screaming out your orgasm.

Your convulsing walls squeezed his dick and his face twisted. “Fuck me,” he moaned as he spilled inside of you. Hot spurts of cum pulsed inside of you and your thighs shook as you calmed down from your orgasm.

You collapsed fully on top of him, panting against his chest. You two will never be able to keep your hands off of each other. The truth of it was apparent. You attacked each other every time you got near each other. How had you resisted this man for so long? How had he resisted you for so long?

What the hell did this mean? You weren’t trying to “define the relationship” because there would never be a relationship. You knew that. But your stupid pussy didn’t. You wanted to keep going. To keep riding him until the sun set and you milked him dry.

“Come to my place tonight,” Tre said. He looked at his watch.

You got off of him and stood on wobbly legs. Tre got up and handed you some tissues while he cleaned himself off. You cleaned up what you could, but you’d have to go to the bathroom to truly feel clean.

He zipped himself back up, fixing his pants. He was a bit crinkled, but he was lucky he was a man. A few flicks and he was fine. No one would care if he had a hair out of place. You on the other hand…it would take you far longer to set yourself back to rights.

“What?”

“Should I be worried that your hearing is shit?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. He really could be an ass. “Sir–”

“Just bring your sexy ass to my place.” He looked himself over, finding the spot you bit to keep from letting the office know that Tre was working your shit. He swiped at it but it was wrinkled. He shrugged his shoulders.

Perks of wearing all black, no doubt. If people stared hard enough to see a wet stain on his jacket, then they were too fucking close. He checked his watch again and then walked up to you, kissing you on the lips.

You sighed into the kiss, melting once more at the power of it. “Leave work early. Go get pampered. Meet me tonight at seven.”

You were about to ask what the hell he was talking about. He fished out his wallet and then handed you a black card. You stared at it as if he were handing you a deadly snake. “I can’t take that!”

Looking at it felt like a crime. It felt like as soon as you touched it, cops would descend from the ceiling and cart your Black ass off to jail. You looked up, making sure there were no places for invisible cops to hide.

Tre pressed the card into your hands. No cops in sight. It was lightweight but heavy with the burden of taking care of it. Your nerves kicked into overdrive. You couldn’t accept this! You tried to hand it back, but Tre only pecked your lips.

“Seven on the dot,” he said.

He disappeared from the room, closing the door behind him. You stared at the card for a hot second. You didn’t even want to think about the balance on this thing. More than your apartment and car combined. More than three of your apartments and cars combined. More than that!

You huffed a breath, placing the card down on his desk. That didn’t feel right. That felt worse than keeping it in your hand. What if it slipped off and under the desk? What if it fell through the floor and some weirdo found it and spent all of his money? What if you lost it?

Panic raised your shoulders to your ears. The earlier relaxed feeling leached out of you as you ran through multiple scenarios. Now you have to keep it and hang on to it. It wouldn’t be safe otherwise.

Underneath the panic, there was a kernel of excitement. You held a black card in your hand. The first and probably last time you would ever hold one. And he said to pamper yourself, right?

You lit the candle in his office. The light aroma of green apples hit you and you prayed that it would be enough. You tidied the room, trying to get rid of most of the evidence that you were once again being nasty at work.

Something had to give. This couldn’t continue. You weren’t going to kid yourself. You were definitely going to his place to get dicked down again. He was addicted to the way you tasted and you were addicted to the way he broke your back. It was a dangerous alliance and you were going to regret it when this blew up in your face.

But hell. For now, you were going to do as he directed. You were going to pamper yourself on his dime. It was only right, right?

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tre Files #Trevante Rhodes fanfic #Trevante Rhodes fan fiction #Trevante Rhodes fan fic #Trevante Rhodes fanfiction #Tre x Black!reader #Tre x Black reader #x Black reader #Tre x Fem!reader #Tre x Fem reader #Tre x Assistant!reader #Tre x Assistant reader #Candy Cane Lane fanfic #Candy Cane Lane fan fic #Candy Cane Lane fanfiction #Candy Cane Lane fan fiction #Tre x you #Tre x reader

375 notes · View notes