#and curt just had that vibe y���know

[nymphomatique]

your nerd miguel fics are so good i didnt even know id like dom!reader this much

imagine slutty!reader getting ready for another party and she's barely wearing anything, pretty tits n ass spilling out of her clothes. she's leaning forward over the vanity to do her make up, and miguel cand help but get distracted from (her) homework, and just looks at her plump ass peeking from under her flimsy skirt. he begs her to let him rub himself on her and with hesitant hands he grips her hips and dryhumps her like a dog in heat

well, yes!

cw: slight dom!fem reader, sub!miguel yall know the vibes, me indulging in fashion for a moment, dry humping, miguel cums in his undies, this one’s a lil sweet i fear, awkward ending soz, edited AND proofread y’all 🙏🏾 (can’t guarantee no mistakes however)

wc: 1.6k

❤︎ a/n: i’m a dirty liar and forgot to upload this yesterday but!! she’s here and she was a labour of love! everyone who survived the great barbie drought of winter 2023-2024 gets a pin and goodie bag at the door. nevertheless, enjoy!! 💋

“hey, four eyes, this dress or should i wear a skirt instead?”

brown eyes you’ve come to know so well, more than you’d like to admit, flit up to meet yours momentarily until they look at the two articles of clothing hanging on hangers between your manicured fingers. in one hand, a mesh cut out dress with a deep plunging neckline, and a khaki mini skirt in the other.

“um, skirt. y-you looked pretty in it when you bought it, so um- you should wear it,” miguel mumbles, a pink tint sweeping its way lightly across his face. you’re feeling particularly sweet on him today. it’s been hard to keep your eyes off him as of recent, his chiseled jaw, thick lips, and who could ever forget the resplendent pools of brown that takes form of his eyes. eyes that make your face heat up, setting your body ablaze and feeling feverish under the slightest of glances.

he’s classically handsome, that much you won’t deny, as much as it kills you.

you silently take his suggestion in heed, quietly stripping in front of him to change into the skirt he suggested, and pulling on a black long sleeved crop to to match. you silently lament on the memory of the day you bought the skirt, how you had dragged miguel by his shirt alongside you that day to the mall to sit and watch you buy clothes at any and every store, designer or department, and shuck your bags into his strapping arms. you had wandered into miu miu, miguel trailing not too far behind you with your bags from blumarine, versace, cavalli and more comfortable in his hands. he sat patiently in the waiting chairs as you picked up an array of shirts and skirts and accessories, until you were ready to try them on. miguel sat and watched as you said no and turned your nose up at nearly everything until you tried on a khaki skirt, sitting so low on your hips the straps of your red thing peeking above the waistband.

you turned and twirled in the mirror, admiring the skirt on yourself until you turned to miguel himself, walking up to him as he’s sat to ask him, “you like it?” and like it he does, a hefty hand trailing up from your thigh to your hip, tapping your your hip softly. “you know i do, baby,” and you giggle at his answer, twirling for him before walking back the dressing room to change, not before biting your lip and beckoning miguel to follow at your heels with a pink painted acrylic nail. and follow he does, because he’s such a good boy.

you feel roused at the memory of your dressing room quickie in the same skirt you’re wearing now. and you’re sure miguel feels the same, and you don’t miss the opportunity to provoke him at any moment.

you bend over, slow but curt, fixing up your makeup in your large vanity while your ass sits out in direct display, the short fabric of the skirt lifting as you bend. your black thong is made visible as you bend and wiggle you hips. you steal small glances in the mirror to where miguel is on your bed, sitting in a sea of linear calculus books, and sure enough the methods of linear are long forgotten to focus on your exposed backside. you giggle and turn your head to look at him, and his lips purse when he realizes he’s been caught. before he can sputter anything out, you stand and turn to him and ask him, “see something you like, dontcha?”

a silent swallow and a nod is miguel’s response, his growing erection answer enough for you.

“beg me for what you want.”

and there’s a brief fleeting moment after the words leave your lips. an unspoken fervour in the air, perhaps a mix of what hasn’t been said and all that’s left to say about the two of you. you feel hot, your gaze burning through miguel’s clothes, burning his skin all the way across the room. you want him, you want him, you want him. and he’s looking back at you, a subdued but still present lust in his eyes. you see the submission, his compliance. yes, mistress.

his knees hit the floor, and then his rough palms follow suit and he’s crawling towards you until he’s not, and his sat like a good little boy in front of you painted feet, and he does what you ask, he begs for your touch, your taste, your mercy.

“please let me touch you, i need it, please please please. can i have it? can i touch you, mommy? i don’t even have to be inside you, j-just your touch and i can- i can cum. please? oh god please-“ miguel babbles, his hulking form looking up at you from the floor. you feel like the wind has been knocked out of your chest. he just needs your touch. you card a hand through his thick wavy locks, gripping at the nape and pulling his head up to look at you.

“just need my touch, hmm?” you look at him and he nods. whimpers. so fucking pathetic. “i’ll let you hump me like you want. my subservient little puppy needs it, huh?” you coo mockingly. a string of yes’s and thank you’s leave miguel’s lips and you get up and turn around, bending over to brace yourself on your vanity.

you’re fully presented for miguel, and there’s an empty beat of stillness between you both, you make eye contact with him in the mirror and quip, “gonna keep me waiting?” and he knows better than that. he’s up on his feet, unbuckling his belt and shucking his jeans down and off him, standing in his boxers, swollen and full with his erection. he moves behind you, placing his hands on either sides of your hips.

“no ma’am.”

you can’t help but pulse in anticipation. you look at him in the mirror and find that he’s looking at you already and you feel yourself heat up. please don’t make me wait anymore, you think. like he’s read your mind, miguel’s covered erection is pressed up against the gusset of your panties, perfectly slot between your ass cheeks.

and experimental hump sends you bouncing forward a little, your breasts jiggling a bit, a soft sigh of satisfaction leaving you. finally. another hump, miguel’s strong hands pulling your hips back towards his crotch and you gasp a bit and the pleasure. another thrust of hips, and again, and again until it becomes a steady rhythm of soft sighs and low groans. and it goes on from a thrust to a trust and grind, and oh! the meat of miguel’s dick rubs up against your clit and you can’t help but moan.

your moans are joined by miguel’s whimpers, his hips rocking so intensely it has you burning up inside so much that you think you might cum from the stimulation. “s-so good baby, fuck,” miguel let’s out and you keen at his praise. you’re so good, you’re his baby. you push and grind your hips up in time with his, feeling yourself begin to soak through your panties and maybe onto miguel’s dark boxers. you can’t hold yourself together anymore, feeling yourself come apart so you drop your head onto your vanity’s surface, hoping to salvage some semblance of your pride.

the thick hands on your hips move to find purchase within your skirt, grabbing fistfuls of the short fabric before pulling your hips back with a staggering strength. you feel your knees buckle a bit, and your head shoots back up with an accompanying moan.

miguel pulls you down while pushing himself up into you and it feels so fucking good. your palms feel clammy and you feels as if you’re still sanding by the grace of god. every nudge of your clit feels as if it’s short circuiting your motor functions temporarily and you feel so overwhelmed to the pleasure, you can do nothing but succumb to it, and the man granting you it.

“m’gonna cum miguel. so good, so fucking good. wish you were inside me so i can feel you. wish you could feel me cum around you. f-feels so good please don’t stop! i’m gonna- oh!” you’re mumbling and babbling incessantly, canting hips and soft whimpers that turn into heavy groans only further pushing you past your limit through this titillating pleasure.

“fuck, gonna come with you baby. come with me, please mommy i need it,” miguel moans. his hands release your skirt and dig into your hips once more and you’re sure you’ll find salacious marks there in the morning but you don’t care, not when you’re so close.

a particular hard thrust sends you reeling forward, head almost hitting your mirror and you can’t help but give out within your legs. you feel them shake and almost go numb at the pleasure. you’re left helpless, cumming violently and soaking the fabric separating both you and miguel as miguel continues his assault against your poor pussy. he fucks it- humps it?- raw, overstimulating you to the point of pain when finally he finishes with a final thrust, his nails digging into the meat of your curvature. you feel his cum seep through the material of both of your arguments and you moan as it hits the gusset of your thong.

miguel lets go of your hip and you wobble a bit, using your upper body upon your desk to stabilize you. you’re both panting and heaving, taking in the intense and carnal display of lust between the two of you. you’re quiet before you hear miguel pipe up, breathlessly, pulling you from your daze.

“thank you, mistress.”

smug bastard.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 1 🍒

“Austin”

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 2K

Summary: new to the city, you befriend Sarah, and in a time of need you befriend her dad Joel

WARNINGS: this particular chapter is safe for everyone to read, but future chapters will contain smut; mild cursing, little bit of flirting; age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35); reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race specified and will not be throughout the series; until otherwise specified, this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: this was the first fic I ever wrote, after months of lurking on AO3. It's one of my favorites to write and probably my most popular on AO3, so I'm bringing her to the party. In this particular chapter Joel fixes a sink, and I did minimal investigating into the world of plumbing, so obviously any mistakes are just gonna be there.

Series Masterlist

Austin is quiet. So much quieter than where you came from: Houston, the city on the bayou, where there's always something fun to do. Not that Austin is without its charm, it just kind of feels like living on the moon after the hustle and bustle of your hometown, the fourth largest city in the US. But the people are friendly, the vibes are mellow, and you soon begin to feel at home.

Soon you'll be starting college at the University of Texas, a school you've had your eye on since fifth grade. Your mom, overprotective but meaning well, allowed you to stay with your older cousin Sofia rather than living on campus. And you're excited about it because even with a roommate, this is your first time on your own, away from home, about to really live your life.

School starts in a couple months, so in the meantime you get a job at a new Starbucks in town, providing you with a little spending money. The first few days are a blur, making drinks, learning the register. But it keeps you busy, A few times a week a younger group of kids come in, ordering the cheapest things on the menu. One of them, a girl 13 or 14 years old, approaches the counter. She studies the overhead menu with an air of seriousness. "What's in a frappuccino?" she asks.

"Um, coffee, espresso, milk, ice, and syrup blended together, basically. Comes with whipped cream on top. I could give you one to try," you offer, as your manager is out that day.

"Sure," the girl answers eagerly.

You make the cold, frothy drink and hand it to her. "I'm still pretty new at this, so if you hate it, I'm sorry," you joke.

She smiles and walks back to her friends, sipping the frapp.

You work until evening and pick up some fast food on the way home, Getting out of the car with your food you lean back against the vehicle, stretching a little, trying to wake yourself up a bit. Then you hear the sound of a truck coming up the driveway next door and the engine shutting off. There are a couple of voices you hear as the people begin to exit the truck.

"Hey, she's the one who gave me the free coffee today," you hear, and though it likely isn't meant for you to hear, you glance over and see the young girl from earlier today, climbing out of the truck. From around the driver's side you see a man, mid-thirties, tall, well-built, a black t-shirt clinging to his torso. Dirtied jeans and work boots complete his attire. It takes a moment before you realize he's looking at you.

Immediately you glance back at the girl, obviously his daughter. "Hey," you smile and give a quick, awkward wave. She waves back politely and he gives a curt nod and quick wave. They make their way up the front porch and you hear his gruff voice: "You had coffee? Great, now you'll be bouncin' off the walls all evenin'," before the door closes behind them.

"Guess I met my neighbors," you mutter, making your way inside as well.

Over the next few days the girl, who you now know as Sarah Miller, comes to Starbucks, ordering the same frapp every time. "Don't tell your dad I'm giving you all this caffeine," you tell her, hiding a smirk.

Sometimes you give her a ride home from the cafe, though she claims to use the bus now and then. You come to see that Sarah is a lot more mature than you were at her age. You hang out from time to time, swim in your backyard pool, go to the mall, and every time you drop her off you catch a glimpse of her dad, always a figure in the background. You exchange a wave or polite smile and move on.

It's your day off, a Sunday. You intend to spend the day lounging, watching TV. Maybe Sarah will stop by. After making a quick breakfast for yourself you do the dishes. When you're finished, you realize the class ring you'd set on the counter is gone, likely washed down the sink. "Damn!" you exclaim, and text Sofia, who has just left for work.

Go next door and ask Mr. Miller if he can take a look and get it out. He's helped around the house before your cousin replies.

You sigh and put the phone down.

You're a little hesitant going to speak to him. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's home. You knock on the door, feeling self-conscious about your first interaction with him, and Mr. Miller opens the door.

"Good morning," you introduce yourself. "I'm Sarah's friend.. from next door."

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Joel Miller." He extends a calloused hand and you shake it. You've always assumed him to be a man who does hard work for a living, but in your first time seeing him up close you admire his tousled, dark brown hair, his deep brown eyes that seem serious. "What can I do for ya?" he asks in his gentle Texan drawl.

You smile. "Well, I was told you're pretty handy around the house, and I lost my ring in the sink just now." You chuckle at your mistake. "Would it be possible for you to come over and take a look?" You feel really shy about asking this of a man you barely know.

He takes a moment to think, clears his throat, raises his brow. "I suppose I could stop by." His tone is gruff but his manner seems warm enough. "I'll give it a shot. I'm no plumber, but I'll see what I can do." He shrugs.

You smile and sigh with relief. "Of course. I mean, even you just checking it out would be a big help.. whenever you can stop by I'll be here." You don't want to make demands on his time.

"All right.. I'm not doin' much right now, so I could swing 'round if you like. Just let me grab my toolbox."

Once inside, with minimal conversation Joel gets on the floor, under the sink, and gets to work. You wait nearby, trying not to hover, but also wanting to be available in case he needs anything. Plus he's good looking. You watch as he works. His shirt rides up, revealing his torso, and a hint of the waistband of his underwear. Your eyes wander lower until you force them away. To distract yourself you start putting things away in the cupboard.

"Sarah tells me you're new to Austin," he says as he works.

"Yeah, I'm actually from Houston. I'm starting UT in the fall, and staying with my cousin in the meantime. I take it you know Sofia?"

"I do. She's nice. I keep an eye on her place when she's away. Even when you're there."

You mean to say something in reply, maybe 'thank you' but you're thinking about him keeping a protective watch over your home while you're inside, unaware.

"So you're starting university? How old are ya?" he asks.

Something about his question makes you feel like a deer in headlights. "I'll be nineteen in September. On the twenty-sixth."

You can almost hear the smile in his voice. "No shit? That's my birthday. Except I'm far from nineteen. Small world, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you say, sneaking another glance at his torso.

"What're you studyin'?"

"English," you answer, excited to talk about it. "More specifically Literature. I want to write, and maybe one day work at a huge publishing house."

You hear Joel give a grunt. "What do you write?"

"Poetry sometimes, short stories, I have a few ideas for novels."

Another grunt. "You don't look like the type.. the writer type.. no offense."

"What type do I look like?" Your heart races as you realize he's categorized you already.

He peeks out from under the sink and his eyes fix on you in a way that makes you shiver. "I don't know yet. But you're young. Maybe you're the rebellious type." He goes back to work.

You sit on the floor, your back against the fridge opposite him. "How am I the rebellious type to you?"

He's quiet, and you see the gleam of his eyes from where he's under the sink. "Haven't quite figured it out yet.."

You can tell he's having fun with this, and there's a vibration in the air, a palpable chord struck, and you wonder if he feels it too.

"Anything I can do? Feeling kinda helpless over here," you chuckle.

"Just stay out of the way," his voice is more gruff than maybe he intends. Frowning, his eyes focus on an item lodged in the P-trap. He reaches in and pulls out your ring. It's covered in gunk and grime but you recognize it immediately.

"Oh shit! Thank you..." It's your class ring. 'Class of 2003' is engraved on the side, with a princess cut sapphire on top. You put it aside to clean it later.

Joel smirks. "No problem."

"I really owe you one."

"I dunno about that. Just don't go throwin' away your valuable stuff next time, okay?" He's teasing, almost playful.

You laugh "Okay.. hey I'm working at the cafe tomorrow. If you come by I could get you a free coffee." You put the offer out there, testing the waters though you aren't sure why.

"Free coffee? Careful, girl, between giving away free stuff to me and Sarah, you're gonna run Starbucks out of business," he grins. "But yeah, I might have to stop by."

You walk him out, even though Joel says it's not necessary, but you can tell he enjoys your company. "I guess I'll be seeing you around Joel.. Mr. Miller."

He stifles a chuckle. There's a touch of amusement in the way he speaks to you, but he hides it behind a warm, open expression. "Call me Joel. No need to be so formal around me."

"If my mom was here she'd say I was being disrespectful, calling you by your first name." You can't help a little blush.

"I won't complain about respect," he smiles again.

"She's pretty protective of me," you describe your living situation, your freedom that is being given in increments.

"Well your mom might've done you a favor there." Joel looks out past your front porch. "That's probably a wise decision, ya know? What about your dad? He ok with you living far from home?"

You shake your head. "He's not.. really in the picture. My parents divorced about five years ago. My dad went up north, Minnesota I think, and I haven't seen him since.." You feel a little vulnerable revealing this.

Joel's brow furrows and his expression darkens. You wonder if he's thinking about Sarah. You don't know much about her mother and haven't felt okay to ask. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you all right?"

You shrug. "I guess so. I've managed this long without him.." You give a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all this.."

"No problem, I don't mind listenin'. Do me a favor," he says suddenly. "Be careful out there, okay?"

Something about this catches you off guard. "Of course I will."

He smiles. "Good. I'll see you at the cafe tomorrow," he phrases it like a hopeful question.

"Bright and early," you say, feeling a few butterflies in your stomach.

He laughs and nods. "Til then."

You watch him leave and though you cringe at how young, foolish, childish you must appear to him, you can't deny that you feel something, even for a brief moment. Maybe it's nothing. But something about him sticks with you, an odd feeling in your chest. But it's just a dumb, knee-jerk reaction. He has a family, he's twice your age. You're focused on school and your future. Joel Miller is the last person you should be thinking about...

...right?

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[gretavangroupie]

Goldenrod

Word count: 8.1k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Angst, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Jealousy. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I blame Josh Kiszka, entirely.

It’s a nice place, with tea light candles and fresh flowers on every table. Tucked away on the West side of Nashville, far from the wide eyed tourists and the flashing city lights. It’s quaint, but always busy. A reservation here would cost you. A name or your checkbook, either one will do. You wonder how he managed it, who he knows or what he does. You’d been here only once before, strings pulled and names dropped no doubt. 

The hostess led you to your table, smack dab in the center of the restaurant, commanding all the eyes and attention of the patrons around you. With a curt smile you tucked into your chair and waited for your date. You weren’t really sure why you agreed to this, but after several failed attempts on your own you finally caved. Cambry is a terrible influence and you knew better than to go on a date with a man of her choosing, but here you found yourself in a swanky restaurant at a table for two. 

You didn’t put too much effort into your outfit, opting for a tight black dress and a pair of gold earrings. It showed off your figure without revealing too much. It was tasteful and sexy, everything you want on a first date. 

You knew nothing of the man you were meeting apart from his name. Simon. Cambry assured you that he was perfect for you, claiming how similar the two of you were and citing you had similar taste in music. So, you agreed. 

You couldn’t fault him too much for being late, the traffic absolutely horrendous as you made your way through Midtown. You perused the drink menu, placing your order for a dirty martini when the waiter stopped at your table. As you sipped at the briney drink you felt a presence behind you, and you knew Simon must have arrived. 

A tall man, with long dirty blonde hair stepped up to the seat across from you, lifting his hand to shake yours. 

“Hi, I’m Simon. Sorry I’m late, the traffic–”

“Was terrible, I know,” you laugh, shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

He takes his seat as his eyes dart around your face taking you in. “You got a drink I see, any recommendations? I’ve never been here before.”

“I was wondering how you were able to pull a reservation so last minute,” you answer, pushing the drink menu towards him. 

“Ah, called up one of my buddies, works tickets down at Nissan Stadium. Was no trouble,” he boasts as if entry level ticket sales is something to be proud of. 

You smile politely and nod your head, “I got a dirty martini, they are heavy handed on the vermouth so I order gin instead of vodka.”

“Dirty, huh?” he smirks, opening the drink menu. 

You offer a clipped smile, already not liking this guy too much. His frat boy vibes are a little too strong for your liking, and quite frankly is the opposite of what you have ever been into. The waiter steps up a few seconds later, noticing that your date has arrived. 

“What can I get for you sir?”

“I don’t know what all this fancy shit is, do you have Bud Light?” he asks, rapping his knuckles against the table. 

“Um, no sir, I believe the only beer we have on tap is Thunder Ann from Jackalope,” he offers with a pleasant smile. 

“Was that English?” Simon jokes, however, it is not well received by your waiter or yourself. 

“I could bring you a sample if you’d like?” 

He blows out a breath of defeat, “I’ll just have what she’s having, but make mine stronger.”

You raise an eyebrow at his demand, silently kicking yourself for ever agreeing to this. 

The waiter nods and heads off and a sense of dread washes over you as you realize you are about to enter into forced conversation with this stranger. 

“So how do you know Cambry?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he's at his mothers house. 

You swallow down the distaste and try to answer his question, “Cambry and I work together. She is my office suitemate.”

“Oh so you work at the little music place, too?” he asks, downplaying your career to boost his own ego. 

“I don’t think Sony Music Publishing is a ‘little music place’ but I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion,” you jest.

“What do you do there?” he asks, accepting his drink from the waiter. He takes far too large of a sip before you can answer, shocking the both of you. 

“I’m an account executive, so I do sales, client management, data reports, that kind of thing. How about you? What do you do?” you ask, genuinely curious about what he could possibly do that he would need to belittle your career. 

“Oh well, right now I am kinda just playing the corporate field so to speak. I’ve got a few sweet options in my pocket, but uh, right now I am working down at AT&T. You know that Batman looking building. It’s pretty chill,” he says in an attempt to flaunt.

“Yeah, I know it well actually. What do you do there?” you ask. 

“I’m a field sales representative,” he answers, his voice dropping a little. You feel your eyes practically bulge from their sockets. 

“So, you don’t like, physically work in the building,” you confirm. 

“I mean, I report there at the end of the day,” he replies, trying to blow smoke.

“So if you report there at the end of the day, where do you spend your day?” you ask. 

“Kind of everywhere. I do a lot of driving around. I was able to secure a deal with a new Mexican restaurant over in Hendersonville. They want full fiber and phones. Pretty sweet, might even make a commission on it,” he says pridefully. 

“Wow, a commission too? They are spoiling you,” you taunt. 

“Yeah, I’m about to move up, gonna put me into commercial sales. More office time and less road time,” he says, folding up his menu. Your mind is positively racing at how Cambry thought you two would be a perfect match when he couldn’t be more different than you. 

“So uh, what are you thinking you want to eat?” he asks. 

“I think I might do the farmhouse pasta, the sun dried tomatoes sound good,” you answer, closing your menu as well. 

“Yeah I’m gonna get a steak, I bet they are good here,” he says waving over the waiter. Your face blushes red as he makes a scene to grab his attention.

“Yes sir, we are ready to order,” Simon states, opening up his menu. “I’m gonna have the Porterhouse with mushrooms well done and can you bring a side of ketchup?” 

You think that if your eyes rolled any harder you could see your brain, but alas you must keep your composure and make it through this trainwreck of a date.  

“For you miss?”

“Yes, could I please do the farmhouse pasta? I will also do one more dirty martini,” you smile, hoping the waiter can sense the apology in your tone. 

“Great, I will be back,” he says, stepping away with the gentle nod of his head. 

The evening continues on as you listen to him tell you every uninteresting fact about himself while he dips his shoe leather of a steak in ketchup. You have a hard time finding your own meal appetizing as you watch him eat, a tiny dribble of ketchup at the corner of his lips. He barely gives you a chance to speak as he relives his fraternity glory days, telling you every close call he has ever had with the police and every famous person’s door he’s knocked on since he moved here from Mississippi. 

You down your drink probably a little too fast, trying to decide if you will need another to make it through the last part of this date. You know you will never speak to this man again, and you know you will be giving Cambry a firm talking to come Monday morning. 

The waiter steps up to the table with the check, placing it in front of Simon who sends him a puzzled look. “Oh, actually she’s getting the check tonight.”

“Am I?” you ask, a little confused yourself. You had no problem going dutch, but to be told you were taking the entire responsibility of the bill was a bit of a shock. 

“I mean, yeah, Cambry said you wanted this date, so… I figured since it was your idea, you were paying. I didn’t bring my wallet.”

You feel your mouth go dry at the audacity of his assumption. “I have no problem going dutch,” you say. 

“Yeah, it’s just I didn’t bring my wallet,” he counters, shrugging his shoulders. “I can Venmo you later or something.”

You bite your tongue as you reach for your purse, knowing there is an extremely high chance that this meal will drain his checking account. 

“It’s fine, I can get it. No problem,” you say, pulling your wallet from your purse. Just as you unzip it you feel someone walk up behind you, and the sight of a hand on the waiter's arm. The person leans towards the waiter, saying something quietly in his ear as he slips a silver metal credit card into his hand. 

As you look up you recognize the mass of curls and the crisp white linen. The smell of his cologne forever ingrained in your memory.  Your eyes flash over to Simon who is just as confused as you are, watching the interaction. A few more words are spoken between the waiter and the man you now know is Josh. Your ex. 

The waiter scurries off with Josh’s card just as he turns to face you with a shit eating grin. He then casts a lethal glance to Simon, who at this point is looking rather small. 

“Don’t you know it's distasteful to make your date pay?” he asks, venom in his voice. 

“And you are?” Simon snaps. 

“Well, from my place at the bar I thought I was the competition, but now I’m fairly positive that is not the case. My name is Josh, and I would ask yours but quite frankly I don’t care to know.”

“Josh!” you yelp. 

“What darling, you can’t deny the facts. I’ve been sitting at the bar since you arrived. Was quite the unexpected show, I must admit,” he pauses, “If I’ve misjudged your evening, which, I’m sure I haven’t based on your body language alone, please do feel free to correct me.”

“We’re actually on a date, man,” Simon speaks up, taking you and Josh both by surprise as you turn to stare at him. 

Josh just snickers, shaking his head before turning to you. “Have you had enough, sweets?”

“What do you want, Joshua?” you ask, a little annoyed at his brazenness. 

He cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger as he gives you a knowing look, “Is this what you want? You want me to go?”

You push his hand away and cross your arms over your chest, refusing to answer his question.

“Fuck this,” Simon spouts, pushing away from the table and storming out of the restaurant. 

Josh quickly takes his seat, sitting across from you as he folds his hands on the table. “You’re welcome,” he taunts, accepting the check book back from the waiter.

“A pleasure Mr. Kiszka,” he nods, walking away. 

“Mr. Kiszka? They know you by name here?” you groan, watching a sideways grin pull across his full lips. His eyes glance down to the plate of half eaten food in front of him.

“A well done steak with ketchup? My, my, darling have your standards dipped that low?” he asks, signing the receipt and closing the book. You roll your eyes and reach for your martini glass, however his hand snakes out to grab it first, tossing the rest of it back. 

“What the hell,” you growl. 

“You dumped me for a broke asshole?” he asks, sitting back in the chair. 

“He might have been broke, but I bet he could fuck me more than once every three months,” you snap, pulling ammo from your failed past. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “Now, now, retract the claws sweetness, be my good girl, yeah?”

“I’m not your anything, Josh, and I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I can promise you it’s not.”

He stabs at the olive in the martini glass, popping it between his lips. “You sure about that?”

��You completely derailed my date,” you bark. 

“Oh, please Y/N. You were ready to go the moment he introduced himself, late, might I add. You were entirely repulsed through dinner, and you couldn't get a word in edgewise. It may have been a year or so since we called it quits, but I still know you like the back of my hand, darling.”

“You don’t know me like that anymore, Josh.”

He chews the olive as a hum rings through his chest, “Is that why your thighs are clenched together under the table right now, for the first time tonight? Why you can’t seem to sit still, squirming everytime I look at you? The pretty pink blush on your cheeks that happened to appear as soon as I stole his seat? Because I just don’t know you anymore?”

You shake your head and look away, pushing him out of your mind. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he demands, and instinctually you turn your head. “Own it.”

You meet his eyes and huff out an annoyed breath. “You can’t just walk up to me and think we are going to pick up where we left off. I left you for a reason, Josh.”

“Are you ready to go now that you’ve said your piece?” he asks, pushing his chair away from the table. 

“I drove myself here, and I’ll drive myself home,” you quip. 

“After two martinis, I don’t think so, sweetness. I’ll send for your car in the morning,” he insists. 

“Send for my car? What are you, the Pope?” 

“Only the one time if you remember correctly,” he jokes, offering his hand to help you stand from your chair. You take it begrudgingly, grabbing your purse and smoothing out your dress. 

“Stunning as usual, love. You know I love that silhouette on you,” he says, ushering the two of you out the door and into the parking lot. He drives a different car now, which is probably why you didn't recognize it in the lot when you arrived. 

“It wasn’t for you,” you gripe. 

“But it was for him? Mister can’t even split the check?” he counters. 

“Again, he may not be made of money, but he at least listened the few times I was able to get a word in,” you snap. 

Josh sucks his teeth as he opens the passenger door, helping you climb inside. It’s spacious and smells of new leather. A string of beads hangs from the rearview mirror and a tiny crystal lays haphazardly in the center console. He joins you seconds later, starting the car and backing out of the parking space. 

“Where are you taking me?” you question, although you’re fairly certain you know the answer. 

“Home,” he snickers, taking a right out of the parking lot. 

“You don’t know where I live, I moved,” you say, shifting your body in the seat. 

“No, no. I said, I am taking you home.”

“What if I don’t want to go?” you ask, fully lying to yourself and to him and he knows it. 

“I did always like it when you played hard to get,” he smiles, moving his hand to rest on your bare leg. “But your body gives you away everytime.”

“Where’d you find him?” he asks, letting his eyes flick over to yours for just a second. 

“Cambry,” you answer, a twinge of defeat in your voice. 

“Cambry? Come on, baby, you know she has the worst taste in men,” he groans, merging onto the freeway with ease. 

“I didn’t really have a choice, and she oversold him, clearly,” you answer. 

“So you’re still at Sony, then?”

“I am, though I’ve been considering a career change, maybe even a city change,” you lie.

“Had enough of Nashville?” he jests.

“The people that reside here,” you taunt. 

“Fair enough,” he concedes. 

His fingers trace circles into your skin, lighting little fires with every pass. “You stopped answering my calls,” he trails off. 

“That is typical of a break up Josh…”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap. 

“What can I call you?” he asks. 

“Nothing, you can take me home and send my car in the morning,” you answer. 

His grip on your leg tightens, his thumb passing over your knee. You feel warm beneath his touch, a calmness washing over you. This is always how he got you. 

“It was one fight, Y/N! I know I fucked up, but–” he shouts, losing his calm and cool composure for a millisecond. 

“Josh…” you whine, not wanting to hash this out again.

As you pull up to a red light he turns to look at you, moving his hand from your leg and grabbing your hand instead. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Just– come over for a little bit. Let’s talk. Catch up a little. Don’t let your night be a complete loss, you look too pretty. Let me appreciate you,” he says, squeezing your hand. 

Your eyes meet his, sparkling and encased by his thick lashes. “Okay,” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

You roll your eyes and nod your head, “Yes, fine. Just to catch up.”

The light changes and you swear he did twenty over the speed limit the rest of the way to his house. He has a smirk on his lips that he can’t seem to shake, and his hand hasn't left yours.

“Why were you at the bar alone?” you ask, the gin making you feel a little more brave than usual. 

“I like the food, and they make my drink the right way. You know I don’t like going into the city, too many people, and the guys were all busy tonight. I think I was right where I needed to be though. Got you out of that shitty date,” he laughs. 

“It was pretty shitty,” you agree, flashing him a smile. 

“Missed that,” he says, turning into his driveway. “That smile. Lights up a room.”

“Stop,” you say, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Don’t suck up now after you were all bossy and demanding at the restaurant.”

“Worked though,” he grins, shrugging his shoulders and shutting off the car. 

“Did it?”

“You’re here…” he says, tipping his chin. 

“To talk. To catch up,” you counter. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he says, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you. He guides you up to the front door with his hand on the small of your back, shoving his key into the lock and opening the door. 

You’re instantly transported back in time. A time when this was your safe place, when this was your landing pad of comfort. A home you shared together. Warm and welcoming. Until, it wasn’t. It was a big empty house with nothing but the echo of your own voice for months on end. The place you would listen to your calls ring out with no answer and texts would sit on delivered for days. 

It was hard to leave him, your personal ray of light. The good times were the greatest, and the bad times were worse than the worst. You met your breaking point and all you could think of was starting over. Living a normal life with a normal job and a normal relationship. 

You’d grown a little since that day, finding yourself and establishing your own roots in the city. You cut off contact completely. Josh never gave up though. He was persistent, you’d give him that. He tried to reconcile things, promised to fix it, promised to do better, but after so many failed attempts, you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to see this through, for yourself. 

It took almost a year but he did stop calling. Stopped checking in. Your heart ached for him. You wondered if you’d made a mistake. You knew you never really stopped loving him. How could you stop loving someone like him? He took your heart and cast it in gold, giving a piece of himself to you to carry when he was away, but still it wasn’t enough. You needed more than he could give you then. 

“You redecorated,” you ponder. 

“A bit. Just some new furniture, art and things I picked up on the road,” he says, tossing his keys on the table. “You like it?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, I do. It feels very… you.” you pause, “It feels warm.”

He walks into the kitchen, pulling two lowball glasses from the cabinet before reaching for the tequila on top of the fridge. He holds the bottle up towards you in question and you nod your head, knowing you aren’t leaving tonight. 

He pours the tequila into the glasses, topping them with sparkling water and a handful of ice as you walk over to join him. He slides the glass to you and holds his up to tap against yours. 

“Glad you’re here, baby,” he breathes. 

“Josh…”

“Sorry, old habit,” he blushes, taking a sip of his drink. 

You join him, taking a long pull from the glass letting the bubbles slip down your throat. He made it perfect, just how you like it. 

“Shall we?” he asks, pushing off the counter top and making his way into the living room. You follow behind him taking the seat next to him on the couch. You settle into the leather cushions as he shoots up again. 

“Wait, hold on,” he says, walking across the room. He struts across the wood floors carrying himself in a way much different than you have ever seen him. He looks confident and seems to be floating. He grabs a small remote and turns down the lights, casting the room in a much dimmer light. 

“Do you always walk around like that?” you ask, sipping from the rim of your glass. 

“Like what?” he asks, returning to his place next to you. 

“Like…like you’re made of gold,” you giggle, letting the tequila warm your blood. 

“What if I am?” he challenges. 

“What, made of gold?” 

“Mhmm,” he hums. 

“Kinda seems like it sometimes,” you confess. 

“Yeah?”

“You kinda glow,” you answer. 

“Optical illusion, sweets,” he grins.

“I don’t know, you’ve always kinda been that way. Glowy…” you offer, feeling a little hazy. 

“You flirting with me now?” he asks, his lips turning up into a grin. 

“No,” you growl, “Can I not give you a compliment?”

“Absolutely. Please do continue, I’m quite enjoying it,” he laughs, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. His fingertips brush your shoulder and you shudder at the contact. 

“Has it been that long, darling?”

“What?” you question, turning to meet his eyes. His fingers graze against your skin again, goosebumps rising to the surface. 

“Oh, say it isn’t so, baby. Break my heart,” he whines. 

“What, Josh?”

“You’re touch starved aren’t you sweetness,” he says, his eyes searching yours. 

“No, I’m fine,” you lie. You look away, knowing he was always able to read you like a book. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he snaps. You turn your head and meet his eyes again. “Don’t lie to me again. You know that never went well for you.”

You bite your lips together as your cheeks grow red hot. Part of you wants to push him a little more, force him to make good on his threat. The other part of you knows you should leave before he sucks you in. 

“Tell me how long,” he says, resting his hand on the curve of your neck. 

You blow out a breath and shake your head, “It’s not important,” you answer. 

“Is to me, always important to me,” he urges. 

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know that you were being taken care of,” he pauses, “I don’t think that’s a crime.”

“It’s been… a minute,” you confess. 

“Baby,” he breathes. 

“It’s fine, Josh. Really.”

“It’s not,” he snaps. “How long, love? You can tell me. It’s just me.”

“God! Since we split! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear?! That I haven’t fucked anyone since you?!” you shout, burying your head in your hands. You feel his hand rest on your back, warm and firm. 

“Oh, my love. No wonder you’re so feisty. Wound up tighter than a two dollar watch. My girl needs a little relief, doesn’t she,” he asks. 

You turn your head in your hands to look at him, his face serious and dripping with lust. You push yourself up off of the couch, pacing around the living room. 

“I don’t want your pity, Josh.”

“It’s not pity darling, you’d know if it was,” he retorts. 

“Well whatever it is, I don’t want it,” you snap. 

He blows out a deep breath and clears his throat, “I’ve had just about enough of your mouth tonight,” he growls. “Why don’t you come back over here and try again, yeah?”

You stare at him from across the room, arms crossed over your chest in an effort to conceal your nipples that have grown hard just from the demanding quality of his voice. 

“You can drop the act, I know you want me just as bad as I want you. If you want me to beg, crawl on my hands and knees for you, you know I’ll do it, but I think your body is begging for me harder than I ever could.”

You roll your eyes, and look away. 

“Am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong.”

You huff out a breath, “No,” you whisper. 

“What’s that?”

“I said no,” you answer. 

A smirk pulls across his lips, “No, what?”

You feel your chest grow warm and you swallow thickly, “No, sir.”

He clicks his tongue, “Don’t call me sir, that's my brother. Try again, love.”

“No, baby,” you breathe. 

“That’s better. Much better. Come back over here,” he says, motioning you over with two fingers. 

He reaches for your hand as you approach him, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs fall to either side of his hips as you straddle him, the position feeling familiar and comforting. 

“There’s my girl,” he growls, leaning forward to place his drink on the coffee table. His hands move to grip at your hips, holding you in place as he sinks a little further beneath you. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying this, feeling his hands on you and the evidence of his want as it grew beneath you. 

“Not yours, Josh,” you say, letting your hands land on his chest. 

“Liar,” he breathes, rolling his hips into you, eliciting a whine from your chest. You hear him laugh, “Your body says otherwise.”

“My body has never been able to say no to you,” you admit. 

“And that's what I love about it, baby. Mine even when you aren’t.”

A sigh falls from your lips as his thumb drags over your lips, “Kiss me, Josh,” you beg.

A grin pulls across his lips as he pulls you by the back of your neck towards him. His soft, warm lips brush yours just slightly, enough to pull a whine from your chest. 

“Now who’s begging?” he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, dark and lust filled before he crashes his lips to yours. His hands grip at your head as if he’s afraid you might fly away, his fingers twisting into your hair.

His tongue slides against yours, the taste of him so sweet and familiar. There would never be anyone that tasted better, you were sure of it. His hands slid down your face and over your shoulders, reaching for your hands as they sat on his chest. He wrapped his hands around yours, linking his fingers with yours the best he could, just holding you in a way you’ve desperately missed over the last year without him. 

“Josh…” you breathe. 

His lips break away from yours, his cheeks pink and his lips glossy, “Yeah, baby?”

You hesitate asking your question, momentarily debating whether you truly want to know or not, but you know if this night is going to continue, you have to know. 

“How long…” you pause, “How long for you?” It comes out breathless, his warm hands in yours as his lips hover over yours. 

He pulls back a touch, licking his lips and swallowing harshly, “A month or two,” he answers honestly. 

Your traitorous eyes fill with tears and you do your best to blink them away. You drop your head in an effort to conceal your emotions, knowing this is all entirely your fault to begin with. His hand releases yours and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“They were never you. Not a single one of them could ever be you.”

You nod your head and swallow the lump in your throat, “Then why?”

“It’s been a year, baby. I never thought I’d have you again,” he confesses. 

“But you want me?” you ask, just wanting to hear him say it. 

“Is that not clear? Of course I want you. I never stopped wanting you. You stopped wanting me.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t, I just– It was too hard, I couldn’t do it anymore. It hurt too much.”

He grabs your face in his hands again, holding eye contact with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I know I messed up. I’ve thought of it every single day since you left. I’m so sorry.”

You can see it in his eyes that he means it this time. The urgency in his voice and the trembling of his hands against your face prove it. You decide at that moment to cast the memories of the past to the wind and fall headfirst into him, the way you’ve dreamt of for months. 

You press your lips to his, smiling, “Tequila always did make you all mushy, baby.”

A smile pulls across his lips as he stands from the couch, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he makes his way to the stairs. His lips connect to your jaw, peppering kisses up and down your neck with every step he takes. 

It’s seconds before you’re tossed onto the bed. The bed you’ve missed so terribly. The bed that smells of him and his linen sheets. You melt into the comforter, your body relaxing almost immediately. Your eyes close and all you can hear is the shedding of clothes across the room, and the tinkling of beads as Josh places his necklace on the dresser. 

You feel his hand as it comes to rest on your foot, sliding up the length of your body and stopping just as it reaches the hem of your dress. You sit up on your elbows to look at him, standing at the end of the bed in his boxers. 

His gaze is fixed upon you, devouring your every inch.

“Joshy?” you breathe. 

He drops his head for a second before looking back at you, “God I haven’t heard that in so long,” he whines. “What sweetness?”

“Come lay down with me,” you ask. 

He licks his lips and crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you and resting his hand on your hip. “Hi beautiful.”

“Hi baby,” you whisper, rolling towards him. You lay your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart as it pounds erratically in his chest. 

“I missed this bed,” you whisper against his skin. 

“I missed you in this bed,” he pauses, “Terribly lonely without you.”

“Not too lonely it sounds like,” you tease, sitting up and stepping off of the bed.  

“Baby, I–”

“I’m kidding, Josh. I don’t mind. Well, not completely anyway.”

You pull the zipper on the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor and instinctively kicking it to the chair at the side of the bed like you'd done a thousand times before. 

“So you care a little?” he smirks, taking in the sight of your matching lingerie. “Jesus, was that for him?”

“If all went well,” you answer cheekily, crawling back onto the bed. 

“Over my dead body,” he growls, grabbing your arm and pulling you to lay on top of him. 

“It was for me. I needed a little confidence boost.”

“Baby, what? Why? You were always so confident and cool,” he asks, furrowing his brow. 

“Not lately… A few failed dates will do that to you I guess,” you admit. 

“No, no no no no. Don’t let a few pricks dull your glow, sweetness. You’re everything. They’d be lucky to have you.”

You push up off of him, crawling backwards down the bed as you place a few errant kisses across his stomach. Your eyes never leave his as you stop above his waistband, sliding your nails against the elastic. 

“What if I never wanted them,” you ask. 

He sucks in a breath as your finger dips beneath the band, slightly tugging at the fabric. 

“What do you want?” he asks, his eyes searching yours. 

You pull his boxers over his hips watching his cock spring free to slap against his groin. You take him in your hand, watching as his face twists up in pleasure. 

“Tell me,” he growls through gritted teeth. 

Instead of answering him you let your tongue lick a hot stripe from his base to his tip, tasting the bitter sweetness of his precum on your tongue. His core tightens as you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue against his length, feeling every vein and the rapid pulse pounding through him. 

His hand finds the side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches you take him down so easily, remembering exactly how he likes it. You grip his base as you work him, hollowing your cheeks as you eyes meet his. His lips are parted, a heavy breath leaving his chest as his grip on your hair tightens. You take him farther, swallowing around his tip as he nudges the back of your throat, sending him spiraling in his own bliss. 

“Fuck, baby, please…” he begs. 

You pop off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his length. “Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” he asnwers, panting as he desperately awaits your mouths return to him. 

“I’m kind of enjoying myself here,” you tease, taking him into your throat again. 

“Fucking hell, you’re so goddamn sexy. I fucking– I–” he stammers, groaning as you swallow around him again. 

“You think of this, baby? You miss sucking my cock? My good fucking girl,” he asks, jerking his hips up off of the bed. “You think of me like I think of you?”

You groan as your tongue swirls at his tip, letting your eyes meet his. 

“Answer me,” he demands. 

You pull off of him quickly, a spit covered mess, “Yes, yes baby,” you whine. 

“Missed your mouth, your perfect fucking mouth. Your lips, your tongue, everything,” he growls, a moan leaving his chest as you suction your mouth around him. “Pull off baby, not yet. Not ready yet.”

You do as you're told, pulling off of him and wiping your lips on the back of your hand. He grabs your chin and pulls you toward him, his wet cock laying against your panties. His lips meet yours, swollen and pink and still glistening with your spit. He’s desperate to taste you, to devour you completely. You feel his hands slide over your waist and up to your bra, unclasping the hooks and pulling the straps from your arms. He pulls it from between you in one move, before turning you to your back to take in the sight of you. 

His eyes practically bulge from his head as he looks at you. “You– You pierced your nipples? When did you? Wha– Fucking Christ.”

A smile spreads across your face. It's not very often you can catch Josh off guard like this, so you’re taking this small victory. 

“About seven months ago, on a whim,” you answer. 

“Anything else I should know about before I have a stroke?” he laughs. 

“Why don’t you just find out?” you say playfully, just wanting to see his reaction. 

He pulls the elastic of your panties over your hips, tossing the lacy garment to the floor. His tongue darts out over his lips as he looks at you, as if deciding where he wants to start. Though, you knew Josh, and he would forever be a victim to his own fascination with shiny objects. 

His lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue gently flicking over the golden barbell. You lace your fingers into his curls, scratching at his roots as his teeth graze the sensitive bud in his mouth. 

“Josh,” you whine, arching your back beneath him. 

“Mhmm,” he whines, not letting his lips detach from you. 

“Missed your touch,” you answer. 

He pulls off of your right breast and kisses his way to your left, treating your left nipple with the same reverence as the previous. You grab his hand and pull his fingers to your lips, sucking his first two digits into your mouth and letting your tongue twist against them. 

You hear him groan against you, the sensation becoming a little too overwhelming for him. 

“You okay, baby?”

He pulls off of you, still staring down at the shiny gold bars adorning your nipples. 

“No, fuck no, I’m never gonna stop thinking about these,” he says through a pant. 

A laugh bubbles up from your chest as his hand meets your chest, sliding down your stomach and stopping at your hip. 

“You gonna let me in, sweetness?” he asks, biting at his bottom lip. 

A smirk pulls at your lips as you look at him, nodding gently. His hand slides down further, his fingers dusting across your folds. Your body quivers at his gentle touch, a small grin of satisfaction on his lips. 

“You want it?”

“Stop teasing, Josh,” you whine. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you need it. I’ll give you what you want. You know that, right?”

You nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you. Needing it more than anything. “Yes, yes, I know. Please…”

He bends forward and presses a kiss to your stomach, two fingers sinking into your wetness. You jerk towards him as his fingertips press to your clit, a whine escaping your lips before you can stop it. He hums as his fingers start to circle through your wetness, his lip bitten firmly between his teeth. His eyes are dark as they stare into yours, watching your every move and memorizing every expression.

“You feel so good, baby. Missed this so bad,” he breathes, teasing your entrance. 

“You could have had anyone,” you whisper. 

“I didn’t want anyone. Just you.”

His fingers dip into you, finding the place they once knew so well. Your hand moves to rest on his bicep, stronger now than they once were, the muscle rounded and defined. In fact, all of him is that way. Lean and fit, stronger and more chiseled. The thought alone makes you clench around his fingers. 

“Yeah?” 

“You feel so– so different. Stronger,” you say. 

“Needed something to fill the time,” he smiles, curling his fingers inside of you. You cry out in bliss as your stomach starts to tighten. 

“So good, baby,” you cry. 

“Yeah, you gonna come for me? You gonna come right on my fingers, so needy and sweet,” he urges. His fingers are moving rapidly, working you toward your release better than you could have imagined. 

“Ease into it, baby. Don’t rush it. I’m right here, not going anywhere. I’m yours,” he says, his voice soft and comforting. 

Your eyes meet his, desperate and lust filled, “Mine?” 

He nods his head quickly, “Yours,” he pauses, “If you want, I just– I’m here, okay? Take your time, feel it. Breathe it in, savor it. I’m here.”

“I want it,” you plead.

“Have it, have me,” he breathes. 

His fingers move at a relentless pace, fingertips massaging into you with such precision it’s like a year never passed. Your chest grows hot and your stomach tightens as his eyes meet yours, both of you knowing you’re on the edge of release. 

“Do it. Take it baby,” he growls. 

“Josh,” you whine, reaching for his hand and twisting your fingers with his. His grip is tight on you, grounding you the way you need him to. 

With another flick of his thumb across your clit, you’re sent spiraling into your release. You’d never been able to replicate the way it feels when it's by his hand, and you were sure no other man could. His hand slows as your eyes open, finding his full of desire as they stare back at you. 

He grins as he presses a kiss to your mound, slowly pulling his fingers from inside you. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, the want for him coursing through you like never before. You need him. You need him now.

“Josh, now,” you pant, your chest still heaving as you catch your breath. 

He doesn’t hesitate. There are no witty remarks, no jokes, no playful banter at all. Just the need the two of you share for each other taking center stage. He pushes up and crawls up towards you, falling into the space between your legs. He pushes them further apart with his knees, fisting at his base as he stares at you. You swear you can see his heart pounding in his chest, and you know he needs this as badly as you do. 

He lowers himself down to you, brushing his tip through your folds. Your hands come up to his face, cradling his cheeks as you press your lips to his. It's different this time, a little less desperate, more intentional. He lets himself slowly sink inside of you as his lips dance with yours, filling you so fully and so completely, the way he always had. 

He bottoms out inside of you, sliding his arm beneath your hips to pull you in close. His eyes meet yours in question and you nod, letting him know you need more. He begins to slowly move his hips, rolling into you at a fairly gentle pace, soaking in every inch of you and savoring every sound that falls from your lips. 

Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter, desperate for all of him. He groans as your chest presses against his, the coolness of the metal bars against his warm, dewy skin pulling a groan from his chest. 

“Baby,” he whines, snapping his hips into you a little harder. 

“Josh,” you answer, more of a moan. 

“I need this,” he says, moving his hand to cradle your jaw. “I need you.”

“I know, baby,” you cry out, “I know. I need you, too. I fucking need you.”

He groans as he drops his head, letting his lips connect with your neck. His hot tongue slides against your skin before he sucks the skin into a fresh pink bite. His pace quickens, his skin slick with sweat as he pounds into you. 

“Tell me that you think someone could fuck you better than this,” he growls. 

“Fuck, no. No one. No one but you, Josh. I only want you,” you answer, gripping your fingers into his ass. 

His demeanor changes, he’s grown animalistic, grunts and groans falling from his lips as he nears the peak of his release. 

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore,” he demands.

“Josh, I–”

“Say it,” he barks. 

“I do! I do love you! You know I still fucking love you!” you cry, feeling the coil tighten in your groin. 

A cry falls from his chest, echoing around the room as his lips crash to yours. It's rough and desperate, and you know you just told him everything he’s been waiting to hear. 

“I fucking love you, Y/N,” he pants, “Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.”

You nod your head desperately, needing to feel his lips on yours again. His strokes start to quicken, hitting you long and deep as you both teeter on the edge of your orgasm. The wet sounds dancing through the air are deafening, and the heat of his breath on your face has you dizzy. 

“Josh, baby,” you whine, knowing you won't last much longer. 

“Yeah? Yeah you gonna come again? Bloom like a pretty flower just for me?” he urges, knowing the sound of his voice will push you over the edge. He nods his head, and bites his bottom lip as he watches you, squirming and panting beneath him as his cock hits you right where it belongs. 

“Come on sweetness, be my pretty flower, come for me,” he whispers against your lips. 

His hand cups at your breast as his fingers brush your piercing, letting his thumb and forefinger pinch at your nipple. The sensation is enough to bring you to the brink, letting you dive headfirst into your release. You cry out beneath him, his name falling from your lips in succession. 

“Just like that, my love. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he says, pulling you closer to him as his hips continue to work you through it. “I’m there sweetheart, tell me where.”

“You know where, I’m yours,” you plead. 

He snaps his hips into you again, holding you in place as he spills inside of you, the most beautiful noises falling from his lips. He comes down, loosening his grip on your hips as he falls slack on top of you. Your arms wrap around him, your hand drifting up into his sweaty curls as he catches his breath. 

“I mean it,” he breathes, “I do love you.” He props his head up on your chest, letting his eyes meet yours. 

“You know I love you, Josh.”

He cranes his neck forward and kisses you again, and you can almost feel the smile on his lips. “Does this mean you’ll come home? Let me love you again?”

“Is that you asking me?” you tease. 

“I’ll call the movers right now,” he taunts. 

“You forgive me for leaving you in the first place?” you ask, a hint of nervousness in your voice. 

“I deserved it. I know what I lost.”

“I keep my apartment,” you counter. 

“But you’ll be with me when I’m here?” he asks with questioning eyes. 

“If that’s what you want,” you answer. 

“No more dates with assholes who don’t deserve you?” he smirks. 

“No more dates, just you,” you nod. 

“I’ll do it right this time, give you everything. I promise.”

His lips press to yours, soft and sweet and barely there, sealing his promise and setting your heart aflame. He rolls off of you, laying next to you as close as he can get.

“You said I’m your flower,” you pause, “What kind?”

He pulls you into his side, hitching your leg up over his waist. “Hmm, a poppy perhaps? A bright red one, maybe orange.”

You giggle at the fact he has picked such an outlandish flower. “Why’s that?”

He turns his head to look at you and raises his eyebrow playfully, “The seeds are an opiate and can provide intense pleasure to the consumer, and you, my sweets, are certainly a drug to me.”

You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, feeling him pull you in tighter. He kisses your head and lets out a sigh. 

“What about me, am I a flower, darling?”

“Of course you are,” you pause, looking at him. “Too easy, you’re Goldenrod.”

“Isn’t that a weed?” he laughs, running his fingertips against your bare thigh. 

“Technically, but it’s beautiful. It’s wild and free and vibrant. Thrives in the warm sunshine and sways in the breeze. They’re made of gold, just like you,” you smile, flashing him a wink. 

“Although, it is poisonous,” you add. 

He rolls to face you completely, cupping your face in his hand as he smiles, “You know what they say…”

“What’s that,” you question. 

“The worst poison always tastes the sweetest.”

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[captainsophiestark]

Happy Ending

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"

Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?

Word Count: 4,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.

I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.

I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.

"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.

Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.

I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.

The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.

But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.

"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."

Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.

I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.

"Would you like to come in?"

He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?

"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."

He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.

I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.

"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"

"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."

I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.

"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"

"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."

"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."

Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.

"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."

Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.

He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.

The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.

"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."

He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.

"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."

"Luke... what are you saying?"

His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.

"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."

I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.

"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"

"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"

I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.

"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"

His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.

"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."

Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.

"Then there's no hope."

"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."

Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.

"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"

I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."

Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.

"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"

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

That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.

The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.

Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.

Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.

I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).

"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"

"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."

He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.

"By all means, please."

"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.

I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.

"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."

Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.

"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."

Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.

"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.

"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."

Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.

"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"

"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."

"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.

"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."

Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.

"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"

"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."

The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.

Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.

Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.

I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.

When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.

I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.

The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.

It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.

It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.

Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.

"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."

Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.

For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.

The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.

We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.

As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.

Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.

Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.

"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.

"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.

"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."

"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"

The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.

"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."

"...What?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."

We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."

"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.

"And... what's the other option?"

Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.

Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.

"What... what is this place?"

"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."

"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."

Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[writingsfromstarfleet]

[Worf] All Along

♫ Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Klingon culture has long since been recognised as one of the most violent cultures to the outside. In every aspect, it seemed some form of shouting or fighting was at the heart of everything they did. To outsiders, perhaps it seemed that way. There was always a softer side to Klingons, however, one not many people saw in some. 

On away missions, it was handy to have a Klingon with you, and Worf was the perfect one to go along. He was knowledgeable and cautious, and always willing to protect should danger occur. However, he could fight too, far better than anyone you had ever seen. His skill in battle and in leadership made for a great away team leader.

His leadership and skill was also the reason you started having feelings for him, and that made you very uncertain. You were a human, and he was a Klingon. Interspecies romance was not uncommon, particularly now in the universe where infinite diversity in infinite combination was at the heart of most of the galaxy. But, you weren't sure of how Worf would react. He hadn't shown any interest in anyone, let alone yourself, and it left you wondering just how awkward these feeling were about to make the rest of your engineering career.

"Lieutenant Y/N? Are you alright?" A voice snapped you out of your daydream in Ten Forward, your drink long since watered down as the ice had melted. It was your friend, Data, and you shook your head at him.

"Yes, of course, thank you Data. Please, have a seat."

"Are you sure? You do not seem it. You have been staring at Lieutenant Commander Worf for five minutes. I am sure he will start becoming uncomfortable soon."

Your put your head in your hands and sighed. You hadn't even noticed you were looking right at his table the entire time you were zoned out. Laughing to yourself, you sipped your watery drink.

"Ahh, I didn't even know, I guess I'm hung up on a few things, Data. I can trust you, can't I?"

"Absolutely." He nodded and seated himself, sitting curt as always, ready to listen.

"Somethings changed between Worf and I these past couple of weeks. We started off merely away team companions, and it was fine that way, but now I feel like I want to know him better, even court him, as it were. But, I wouldn't even know where to start with that. I mean, just last week, he was reciting a poem he wrote to me before we said goodnight after a shift."

"Perhaps you should try throwing a vase at him, Y/N."

Your eyebrows shot up, utter confusion on your face.

"I.. I- huh?"

"Allow me to explain. When Lieutenant Commander Worf was reciting his poetry to you, he was expressing an interest in courting you. When Klingons find someone of which they would like to court or marry, one recites poetry whilst the other expresses interest in a violent manner, such as scratching, fighting or throwing things at them. This way, the intentions are clear for both parties."

You stared at Data, dumbfounded. "That is in no way, shape or form, clear. But, that is interesting to know, thank you."

Data stood, nodding. "Should you need me, I will be in the science bay. Good luck with that, Y/N."

As he left, you were left with much to ponder, and your eyes drifted over to where Worf was sat, and as you did so, his eyes met yours too. You smiled and nodded, and he nodded all the same. You noticed him leaving, and quickly jumped up to do the same. 

"Hello, Worf, uh.. would you care to meet me tonight in my quarters? I have some music I wish to show you, I think you would be interested. It's okay if not, I-"

"I will be there, your company sounds desirable. Until then, Lieutenant." And with that, he hastily made his way back to work.

The night rolled round and you were in your quarters, pacing. Nerves weren't your sort of vibe, and being a Starfleet officer meant they were pushed back on the job. But tonight, you were making up for all of that by experiencing every bit of nerves you could at the exact same time. The door chimed and your heart jumped, but you opened the door nonetheless. 

"Good evening, Worf, thank you for coming." Your voice was shaky, the uncertainty jumping right out. Worf wasn't fazed, and strolled in, awaiting the music.

"Good evening, Y/N, thank you for inviting me for the music display, I am looking forward to it."

A solitary voice in your head comes out. 'Ahh, fuck it.' 

As Worf turns to find a seat, you pick up the vase closest to you, one that stood on your tableside, and launched it in his direction, and it smashed right by his feet. As the security officer turned, you jumped at him and started to fight him. Worf swiftly changed the playing field and switched you around, and you dodged his attacks with surprising ease. The fight grew more tense as the two of you made it to your feet, his batleth out and you defending with a stick. Nimble and small, you manage to swoop round and trick him every now and then, and when he thought he had you, your legs took his out and you knelt down over him, sitting on his stomach almost, with your phaser at his neck.

"Y/N... that was incredible." Worf was slightly out of breath, but did still sound impressed. 

"Likewise, I hope Data was right about this," you started to look nervous, as you helped Worf up from the ground, a hand he graciously accepted. 

"Right about the vase?"

"Yeah, he-" you stopped. He knew? "How do you know about the vase?"

"I told him to tell you about a vase. I had a feeling you were interested in me, as you humans might say, and so I knew that if you were, you would go to him for advice because you are very good friends. The vase was rather specific, so I realised the moment you threw that at me tonight you had an interest in me."

"That was a very intelligent move, Worf. How did you know?" you inquired, puzzle on your face. You couldn't believe this was happening, no more than you could believe that Data had been playing cupid and wingman for Worf. 

"I can sense it, Y/N. You look at me differently, and when you are around me, you act different, too. It is not hard to tell."

You raised an eyebrow. "Am I that obious?"

Worf sighed. "No, Councellor Troi told me."

You laughed aloud, shaking your head. "And here I was, thinking you knew all along."

"I knew I was interested in you," he started, taking your hand and sitting you down with him on your chair. "But I did not think you would be interested in me."

"Why wouldn't I be? You're sure of yourself, strong, and you're great company. Gathering feelings for you was easy, dealing with them was the hard part, and the outcome has been the best."

You shot Worf a a smile, and he gave you one back, to the best of Klingon ability. He brought your hand to his head, pressing his lips against your hand. 

"Will you have me, Y/N?"

"I've wanted you all along."

[amazingmsme]

i’ve become a little obsessed with your curtwen stuff do you have any more to share 🙏🙏🙏

Aww thank you, that’s so sweet! I honestly need to rewatch saf, it’s been too long since I’ve seen it! All this talk about them has made me really miss them I just wish they could’ve had a happy ending, but I guess that’s what fics are for

I can’t remember what all I’ve said, so I might repeat myself or contradict a previous headcanon, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles 🤷‍♀️

But I love the idea of Curt & Owen flirting via mock interrogations & they progressively get less realistic & more playful (& homoerotic) as time goes on & what we see at the beginning of the show definitely isn’t the first time tickling has found its way into this little game of theirs

They do the will they won’t they thing for probably way too long, but they wanted to be 100% positive they were picking up the vibes they thought they were

Ok but their first kiss was completely accidental. They were running away from someone together & they had to hide in a cramped space like a tight alley or a closet & they’re fumbling & shoving at each other & they turn their heads at the same time & next thing you know they’re fuckin’ smooching! They’re both so shy about it & can barely meet each other’s eyes & Owen just mumbles “not a bad kisser Mega” & Curt’s like “neither are you” & then they’re staring at each other blushing & all of a sudden they’re making out

Pretty sure they both found out each other was ticklish while on a job together since that’s when they spend the most time together. I think most people think Owen found out Curt was ticklish first, but just imagine with me, if you will:

Curt arrives to a job that Owen got to first, but shit hit the fan & he got caught & is being interrogated. It’s pretty early on, so he’s not too roughed up yet, & he can see Curt in the rafters & he’s both relieved & annoyed because he knows he’s gonna rub it in his face that he had to save him. Curt ends up sniping the baddies & hops down like his knight in shining armor & he goes to untie him, but Owen’s hands are tied behind the chair & his chest is tied to the back of the chair, the rope under his arms & around his ribs. So while he’s untying him, he’s squirming around & breathing a little weird & Curt’s like “quit moving so much or I’ll leave you here” & Owen snaps back “quit tickling then!” & he freezes up & Curt has the most gleeful, sinister look he’s ever seen

“What was that?” “Nothing” “no no, you said you’re ticklish?” “Really Curt, that’s what you’re taking away from all this? We need to leave!” “Why? I already killed everyone here, it’s just you & me” “Curt…” “why not have some fun?” “Mega I swear to God-“ & then Owen didn’t get another coherent sentence out for about half an hour

After that, Curt was a fucking menace & never let him live it down. He’d sneak up on him & launch a surprise tickle attack, he’ll constantly bring up how he “can’t believe” how ticklish he is, he’ll even mock his laugh & say how even his laugh sounds posh. Really, Owen had the patience of a saint & Curt really took it for granted

He bides his time, giving him a chance to back tf off with all the teasing, but one night when they’re sharing a hotel room (with only 1 bed mind you) Curt keeps tickling him & it’s really not funny because he just wants to sleep damnit! Cut it out, I mean it! & Curt goes to squeeze his hip again & all of a sudden he’s laying flat on his back with an angry, very smug Owen hovering over him & his life flashes before his eyes. He gives a nervous lil grin & tilts his head like “y-you got me, I’ll leave you alone now” & Owen’s like “oh no no no, you’ve been tormenting me for months, you’re not weaseling out of this that easy” & Curt really should learn to shut up because he doesn’t even think twice before saying “well what took you so long to snap?”

& now it’s Owen’s turn to give him an evil smile & cups his ear like “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” & Curt’s really struggling now, but Owen has him pinned pretty good & he’s sputtering out apology after apology saying how he’ll never tease him again lies & he’ll drop the whole thing. But Owen is smirking so much as he leans down & asks “Curt… now be honest… have you been doing all this hoping I’d get my revenge?” & Curt’s heart has never beat so fast in his entire life & he answers so quick he literally cuts him off by yelling “NO!” & then much cooler “no, why would I want that?” & Owen just hums “oh I don’t know, maybe because it would mean my hands would be all over you” & he waits for Curt to try to argue before striking. He miiiight have gone a bit overboard, but he had a lot of revenge to catch up on. & it’s not like he didn’t give Curt an out, he just refused to “break” to something as “stupid” as tickling, so it was really his fault. He swears his throat didn’t hurt after that brutal attack, but when they wake up the next morning his voice is shot & he can barely speak above a whisper. Of course now it’s Owen’s turn to never let him live it down. “I can’t believe you were giving me so much shit when you’re 10 times as bad as I am!”

I didn’t know this was just gonna turn into one one headcanon but I speak the truth, the whole truth, & nothing but the truth no matter how long it is so help me God

[farrahfields]

with gen ortiz @  beauty and the beach salon , tuesday afternoon.

beauty  and  the  beach  salon  wasn't  exactly  the  first  place  that  farrah  had  envisioned  for  herself  to  get  her  hair  done.  in  fact ,  under  normal  circumstances ,  she  would  have  opted  for  one  of  the  more  popular  salons  she  had  frequented  over  the  years ,  places  where  she  felt  a  sense  of  comfort  and  trusted  the  expertise  of  the  stylists.  however ,  she  was  in  briar  ridge  now. ,  and  after  the  devastating  hurricane  had  ravaged  not  only  parts  of  downtown  but  also  left  her  hair  looking  like  a  hurricane  disaster  zone  itself ,  farrah  found  herself  with  no  choice  but  to  make  an  appointment  at  this  small ,  relatively  unknown  salon  for  her  standards.

as  she  walked  through  the  door ,  farrah  allowed  herself  a  moment  of  reflection.  she  had  to  admit ,  despite  her  reservations ,  that  it  was  an  undeniably  cute  space.  the  decor  was  charming ,  with  a  soothing  colour  palette  and  decorative  details  that  hinted  at  a  beach-y  vibe ,  which  immediately  put  her  at  ease.  yet ,  despite  the  inviting  ambiance ,  she  knew  that  her  sense  of  comfort  could  quickly  dissipate  the  moment  she  sat  in  that  chair ,  especially  since  she  wasn't  surrounded  by  the  familiar  faces  of  her  usual  stylists.

❛ hi ,  i’m  here  for  my  2:30  appointment ,  last  name  fields, ❜  she  said ,  her  voice  slightly  curt  as  she  approached  the  reception  area.  she  hoped  that  the  experience  would  turn  out  to  be  positive ,  despite  her  doubts.  just  as  she  finished  her  introduction ,  a  flash  of  recognition  sparked  between  her  and  the  stylist  waiting  for  her.  ❛ oh.  i  know  you , don't i ? ❜  farrah  questioned ,  her  eyes  narrowing  slightly  as  she  made  the  connection  with  a  pretty  brunette  standing  before  her.  ❛ you  were  with  me  at  the  school ...  gen ,  right ? ❜

[blitzgamev]

hi hey hello here are some of my fav spies are forever london bits in a random order :) i am going insane about this :)

Never done a read more! Surely this'll work first try!

- The Deadliest Man Alive stinger. Him coming back on stage just to say it again for the stinger was top tier and the fact Everyone looked into the audience when it played!!

- The fact they had enough cast now to have DMA stand there visibly not enjoy his time at the ball except when people talked about pulling toenails off??

- HOLY SHIT TORTURE TANGO HELLO

- No seriously doing an extra Owen there when Curt said it and not just having him to the lil pose but also walk across stage, look around, notice what's going on AND DOING THE GUN SHOOT WITH DMA HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME

- The wolf whistle during That part of the stairway scene? Whoever did that is my hero that was hilarious

- Managed to get past the booking agent for the banana yippee

- Speaking of the emoting between Curt and Owen during the slow motion fall was top tier love these actors

- The DMA into Owen reveal was so funny because Owen walked on before The Line to stand behind DMA so you couldn't even hear it over people cheering and laughing

- The slow turn while Joey narrated and the little low walk for the trap door?? Top tier

- Vanger visibly cringing every time someone said something negative about the prince was hilarious but also the implication they aren't even trying to keep it down...

- Facial expressions! Some very very good ones between Curt and Tatiana in not so bad

- DMA being like "yeah I did that look how cool I am cheer for me" at Some Point I Don't Remember like I love how the actor played him

- The deafening cheering whenever Mama Mega showed up was the most based we ever got as an audience let's go Mama Mega

- This did lead to the cheering being so much that we didn't stop when Joey came on to do the scene transition and him having to go calm down guys just doing the next scene lol

- That was definitely not helped by the insanely funny Vanger bit to start act 2 like the cyber bullying in the 60s?? Every cosplayer (pog shoutouts btw) being him??

- The little acting choices Tatiana made in general?? The suspender bit in particular

- Speaking of acting choices. The Whole of Owen's appearance at the end felt like a performance for the audience to me and I need to know if that was A Choice or if I imagined it

- Seperate but related point but spies are forever reprise being on the programme... All I've ever needed now add it to the album smile

- Argh the staircase scene... To see that in person is to be alive I think. The shaking on the gun arm on That Bit. How close Owen looked and sounded to crying during the reprise. MOVING ON OKE KING

- Barb

- Did the informant just not die here??? Good for him maybe don't get into the song next time yeah?

- Curt hesitating to take the first shot is also gonna haunt me that's always been the one issue I had with one more shot

- All the little extra flourishes in the songs were very fun love actors making it their own

- The henchmen!! They lived! I don't know that tickles me no quick changes needed so they get to Vibe and giggle

- BARON'S DEATH SCENE "ouch my back *turns around* ouch my front ouch my self *dies" <- he bows after this btw

- Joey shouting out people who were at the matinee but not the evening show was not a planned bit I bet but it Was funny

- The band!!! Hearing overture In Real Life rewired my brain

- Also a shout out to the stage hand we cheered on before the show and act 2 started

- Everyone's faces but especially Tatiana when Sergio was doing the plead reprise were top tier "what are you DOING get away"

- YOU GOTTA y-you GOTTA :) the whole song was really good loved this Cynthia

- The one handed moves for eyes ii was necessary but also just fun

- Also DMA making curt move the whole chair over and him refusing for a while for realism

- HOW COULD I EVEN FOR A MOMENT FORGET DOING THIS TOP TIER SONG TOP TIER ACTING

- The way Curt kept sputtering and touching his lips way after Tatiana got over it and also agreed it was shit way more

- Prisoner of my past is haunting In Real Life holy shit

- One step ahead :) that one moment they kept getting closer to eachother until they did the hand thing again and it looked like Owen was leaning in completely to the hug. Hey you can't do that. I wish I remembered who pushed the other away to mirror the opening betrayal line

- The final pose was so so good to see I adore spy dance and getting to stand up and clap for it was an out of body moment (I hurt my ear cheering)

This turned into a non chronological recap of the show but whatever I wrote all the energy and memory out that I had so good night tri state area . tri london area

[the-iceni-bitch]

You’ll Never Go Down to the Gods Again

Part II/X

Pairing: dark!Alpha stepbrother Ransom Drysdale x innocent!naive Omega stepsister reader, dark!Alpha Curtis Everett x innocent Omega reader

Words: ~2.8k

Summary: Ransom is already loving how pliable and willing you are to go along with his rules, and introducing you to his friends just cements that feeing.

Chapter Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (exhibition, f receiving oral sex, vaginal fingering, scenting, Alpha/Omega dynamics), hints at some super dark stuff that Curtis is involved in, Alpha!Lance Tucker is an asshole (one use of the R word because it just felt in character him), cruel vibes from all our Alphas, SMUT!!! NO MINORS!!!

A/N: It’s finally here!!! My muse is awake and I hope to be gracing you are with more fics in the future now that I’ve finally had a change to my work schedule. This part is more world building but the next parts will be very much focused on just Ransom and bunny and how they may or may not be developing unhealthy feelings towards each other.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“R-Alpha, are you sure?” You bit your lip while you peeked up at him through your lashes, your fingers gripping his sweater against his chest while you curled closer to him as you sat on his lap.

“I would never lie to you, bunny.” He tried not to smirk when you wiggled a little and nuzzled into his shoulder, pressing his lips to your temple and breathing deep of the smell of honeysuckle and jasmine and vanilla and just a hint of something warm and fertile that made up your sweet scent. “I know it seems strange, honey, but that’s why we’re doing it now, so you can get used to it. Your mate isn’t going to want to put up with all these questions and teaching you how to be good once you're bonded, he’s gonna want to breed you and be able to show you off. And I know you want to be good, don’t you, bunny?”

“Y-yes Alpha.” You shivered when he ran his hand up your spine, sitting up and starting to undo the buttons of your blouse even as your hands were shaking. “Want to be so good.”

————————————-

“I dunno man, she sounds like a fucking moron.” Ransom frowned at Curtis when he stamped the cigarette out against the side of his building before the three of them headed inside. “Of course, that would make her perfect for Tucker.”

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Everett.” Lance smacked Curtis’s shoulder when they got on the elevator and flipped the larger man off when he started chuckling. “Seriously, Drysdale, you’re sure she’s not retarded or something?”

“Nope, just sheltered and naive as all fuck.” Ransom grinned and leaned against the wall when they just gave him disbelieving looks. “I’m serious men, that sweet little idiot wants to be a perfect Omega so bad, she’ll let you do whatever you want to her. Linda and that preacher fucked her up. Just tell her it’s something her future Alpha will expect from her.”

“Anything, huh?” The way Curtis licked his lips made Ransom grin.

“Don’t fucking break her, Curt, none of that rough shit you’re into. Want to keep her nice and sweet so she doesn’t run to my fucking mother again.” Ransom winked at his friends when the elevator door opened and they followed him into his apartment. “Scent her, touch her, go nuts. Bunny! Come on out, we have guests!”

Ransom could tell when the full effect of your scent hit them by the way their nostrils flared and the low growl Curtis let out. Then you walked into the room and he could have cackled at the way their pupils dilated and they had to obviously fight the urge to stalk towards you when you struggled to meet their gazes.

“H-hello Alpha.” He sometimes still couldn’t believe you’d actually just accepted that once you were mated and bonded you were going to be expected to constantly be naked when you were at home, but you swallowed it whole. Just thinking about the way you had nuzzled into his shoulder then looked up at him with big innocent eyes before nodding like a good girl and slowly stripping yourself of every bit of clothing was starting to make him hard. And now he got to see every inch of your sweet, soft body all fucking day, like a damn dream. “Do you want me to take your coats?”

“Yes, honey, you’re such a good girl.” Ransom rubbed his nose over your temple and breathed deeply when you came close, purring when you let out a small chirp and brushed your hand over his chest. “Go say hello to our guests, bunny.”

“Yes, Alpha.” You’re voice was so soft and small and contrasted so sharply with how utterly sinful you looked walking around naked, he could’ve kissed himself for having this idea. “Hi.”

“Hey there, sweet thing.” Lance didn’t even notice the questioning look you gave Ransom when his friend put his hand on your waist and pulled you close so he could scent your neck and run his fingers over your hips, the shuddering breath you took when he licked your jaw making him groan. “Can’t believe your asshole brother’s been hiding you away from us.”

“I-I just don’t like going out.” You shivered when you felt the large Alpha’s presence behind you and his warm hands skimmed over your shoulders. “An Omega’s place is keeping the home.”

“Oh, they trained you good, didn’t they, pretty girl?” The bearded Alpha growled when you tilted your head to the side so he could scent your neck, his hands suddenly cupping your breasts and making you whine when you felt a strange sensation shoot through your core. “Fuck, you smell good.”

“Th-thank you, Alpha.” You felt lightheaded from the scent of their pheromones swirling around you, your whole body getting suddenly warm as slick started to leak down your thighs. “Oh…”

“Alright that’s enough saying hello.” Ransom couldn’t keep from grinning when you looked like you were about to pass out, reaching out to steady you when you stumbled a bit after his friends disconnected from you with a pair of low growls. “Such a good bunny, you stay out here in case we need anything, okay honey?”

“Yes Alpha.” You let out a small chirp when Ransom tucked his fingers under your chin and leaned into his touch, steadying a little when he kissed your forehead before moving to sit at the kitchen table and read your book, trying to ignore the heated gazes that were still locked onto you while you settled into your seat.

“Why the fuck do you even leave the house, Drysdale?” Lance licked his lips when he watched you tuck your feet under yourself, cocking his head and taking a slow sip of his whiskey. “Don’t think I’d ever get enough of that view. She lets you touch her too?”

“Whatever I want. That little thing was made for pleasure.” Ransom grinned wolfishly when he peeked at you over his shoulder and saw you gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.

“You fucked her yet?” Curtis kept an eye on you even as he talked to your stepbrother, snorting when Ransom frowned at him and shook his head. “You’re wasting time, you need to do it early if you want to break her in.”

“Told you, not trying to break her.” Ransom caught you glancing at him and gave you a wink that had you burying your face in your book again with a small gasp. “Just having fun.”

“Breaking them in is fun.” Curtis draped himself lazily over his edge of the couch as he grumbled into his bourbon. “You have any idea what most Alphas would be willing to give for the chance to claim some sweet little practically untouched thing like her? Wasted opportunity if you ask me.”

“I’m very aware, my mother likes to remind me of it constantly when she’s scolding me that I need to take care of the golden child.” Ransom just kept giving Curtis a smug grin while he sipped on his drink. “It’s not like I can bring her to your compound, Everett. Pretty sure Linda and the preacher would have a collective aneurysm if their precious girl went missing, or came back completely broken. So unless you have some other idea…”

“Stay here.” The smile Curtis was wearing when he rose from his seat should have maybe concerned Ransom, but he was too intrigued. “Sweetheart, stand up for me.”

“It’s okay, bunny. Curtis is sort of a bond prep expert.” Ransom couldn’t help but be a little proud at how pliable you already were, standing for Curtis with just one wary glance towards your stepbrother before you turned your attention to the massive Alpha. “Be good for him.”

“Yes, Alpha.” You shivered when Curtis reached out to curl his hand around the back of your neck, tilting your face up to his and feeling sudden calm wash over you when he put a small amount of pressure on your mating gland. “Oh…”

“You’re a very good girl, aren’t you?” Curtis grinned and pulled you closer when he felt you relax in his grip, the attention of all three Alphas laser focused on you and the way you were melting under Curtis’s touch when he brought his other hand up to caress your cheek. “Have you gotten used to Alpha commands yet, darling?”

You could only shake your head. Ransom had never used a command on you. He didn’t need to, like they all liked to tell you, you were a very good girl, you always wanted to be. But maybe the mate Linda and your father would pick for you would want to be more dominant. You knew you had to be prepared for anything, Ransom kept telling you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll be gentle.” Curtis scented your hair before pressing on your mating gland one more time, letting out a deep growl as his voice took on a low timbre. “Present for me, Omega.”

The whine you let out when you felt your hindbrain urging you to submit had all three Alphas snarling with arousal, the noises from them getting even deeper when you bent over the counter and spread your legs. You were so swollen and slick and pretty and Ransom couldn’t believe that Curtis was the first one who had the idea to get a really good look at you.

“What a good little ‘mega. Gonna make such a perfect mate.” Curtis grinned when you cooed softly, dragging his palms up the backs of your thighs and spreading you open even further. “Once you’re bonded, your Alpha’s gonna want to check this sweet little pussy every day to make sure you really belong to him, that you’re being the good girl he mated and not letting any other Alpha use what’s his.”

“H-how would he check my… my…” You let out another lovely sound when Curtis knelt behind you and shoved fingers from both his hands inside you with no warning. “Oh goodness…”

“Bunny, I’ve told you, you’re gonna have to say the word.” Ransom wanted to crawl over the back of the couch and lose himself in you, your scent was getting stronger while Curtis touched you and it was making Ransom feel like he was lost in a haze. “Ask your question like a big girl.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Alpha.” You kept your eyes on Ransom even while Curtis was drawing more slick from your aching core, curling your fingers against the stone of the counter and panting softly while he licked his lips and purred at you. “How would he check my… pussy?”

“Oh, there’s lots of different ways sweetheart. Fuck, look at you.” Curtis hooked his fingers and pulled your cunt open so he could get a really good look at you, biting softly at the back of your thigh and groaning when he watched you try to clench around the emptiness. “So fucking gorgeous, you’re gonna spoil whichever lucky bastard bonds you. Don’t think he’s gonna be able to stop himself at just looking. Might have to smell you.”

Curtis swiped his nose over your sex and breathed deeply, burying his face between your legs and growling when you let out another soft whine and your thighs started trembling. The air in the apartment was thick and heavy with the smell of sex as all three Alphas let themselves get lost in you, Ransom and Lance feeling just as enraptured even though they weren’t currently touching you. But they could practically taste you in the air, Ransom didn’t even need to look at Lance to know the man was well on his way to becoming obsessed with you. Not that he could look at Lance, when you were filling his vision and making those perfect sounds and letting Curtis touch your sweet little cunt however he wanted and never taking your eyes off your stepbrother’s.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so good, honey. Bet you’d let me do whatever the fuck I wanted to you and you wouldn’t make a peep.” Curtis grinned when you only moaned in response and arched your back further, your fingers digging into the counter as you breathed heavily. “Best way to check is gonna be taste though.”

“What do you… oh my!” Ransom snarled when your eyes fluttered wildly before falling closed when Curtis plunged his tongue inside you, your body arching back on itself as you rose on your toes and your breath became ragged. He didn’t even notice the sound of breaking glass when Lance’s grip on his tumbler got too tight, digging his fingers into the back of the couch while he kept watching you and feeling like he was ready to fight something just to get closer to you.

“Such a good fucking girl, shit.” Curtis’s voice was muffled as he dragged his tongue all over your pussy, making sure he tasted every inch of you before releasing his grip on your swollen walls so he could squeeze your thighs while he groaned softly.

You couldn’t answer him, you felt like you were about to pass out, strange sensations shooting through your body. Even the noises coming from your throat were foreign to your ears, high pitched and whiny and desperate as you pressed your hips back into the giant Alpha’s face and rolled them to meet his mouth. There was something pooling warm and low in your stomach that made you feel like you were about to scream, but it couldn’t be bad, Ransom would never hurt you, or let someone touch you who was going to hurt you. But still…

“Oh… oh my… what are you… ah!” You felt like you were cresting a massive wave, some massive, pleasurable sensation crashing over you as you screamed wildly and and your whole body sagged into the counter, shaking as you struggled to come back to yourself as Curtis kept sucking on a spot that seemed designed to make you lose your mind. “What… what did you do to me? What was that?”

“What’s wrong, honey, you’ve never come before?” Curtis just chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet, running his hands over your still trembling thighs and cooing when you just answered him with a wretched sob. “Oh shit, you haven’t! Christ, the things I could do to you…”

“That’s enough for now.” Ransom finally felt the spell break and leapt over the back of the couch and caught your other arm when you almost collapsed, pulling you into his chest after Curtis rubbed his nose over your shoulder with a comforting purr and gave Ransom a lascivious wink. “Bunny you did so good, huh? We’re gonna get you cleaned up, baby.”

“Mmm.” You sighed and nuzzled into his neck after giving Curtis a curious look over your shoulder, clutching at Ransom’s arms and curling as close as you could so you could take in his comforting scent while you were still vibrating from the pleasure that had been ripped from you. Ransom tried not to give Curtis too sour of a look when he shouldered past him, but fuck if he hadn’t realized just how untouched you were. And he definitely would have wanted to be the first one to draw an orgasm from your sweet little body if he had known.

“She taste as good as she smells?” Lance turned his phone off and tucked it back in his pocket, grateful Ransom was distracted with you so he didn’t have to get a lecture about getting you on video. “Don’t know how the fuck you managed to hold back, would’ve broken that bitch.”

“Because you’re horrible and have zero self control.” Curtis frowned as he stepped between the entrance to the hall and Lance, who was still looking pretty keyed up, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips when he heard the shower running and heard Ransom cooing softly at you. “Go bond some easy slut and dump her like you normally would if that’s what you need something to do. As much as I’d love to watch Drysdale beat the shit out of you if you try to move in on his precious new toy, I kinda like her, and you’re a bastard who can’t play nice. This one’s not a pump and dump.”

“Fuck you.” Lance flipped Curtis off as he rose to his feet, calling the lift and frowning at his friend while he waited. “Why don’t you call me when you two are sick of being pussy whipped by some virgin and I’ll show you how you could really have fun with that sweet slice of pussy.”

[capturethechaos]

21 Questions

In collaboration with - @screechesincoherently

Masterlist

Last chapter | Next chapter

Words - 4046

Warnings: Swearing

“Have I ever told you that you look good in my clothes?” Josh asked as the two of them walked into the restaurant.

“Never had a reason to.”

“I guess not— well, you look amazing.” He said, looking at her with a bright smile.

“Thank you.” Y/n said, a light blush forming on her cheeks.

“I look good in my clothes too, thank you so much for the compliment too.” Josh joked, doing a couple poses for her.

“I don't know Josh— I think your clothes look better on the floor.”

Josh chuckled, leaning in to brush his lips against her ear.

“Well, how the tables have turned. I think all you want to do is fuck me all day.”

“It’s one of many things I’d like to do with you, but with the position you left me in today, can you really blame me?” She replied, turning her head to look at him with a raised brow.

“Mmm. No. I guess not.”

She gave him a wide grin before turning to the podium to look at the host.

“Table for two?” He asked, looking between Y/n and Josh.

“Please.” Josh said, looking at the host as his eyes lingered on Y/n.

“Can I get you two any drinks to start with?” The host asked as he seated the two and handed out menus.

“Just coffee for us both, thanks.” Josh said, turning to him with a tight lipped smile.

The host looked from Josh to Y/n with a skeptical look, to which Y/n gave him a brilliant smile.

“Okay, I’ll get those for you.”

Y/n’s head turned, her grin faltering at the look Josh was giving her.

“What’s that look for?”

“What look?” He asked, furrowing his brows at her.

“The look you were just giving me. It looked like someone just pissed in your coffee.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if that host actually does.” He mumbled.

“Why would he?”

“He just gives me vibes.” Josh shrugged with a nonchalant attitude.

“Whatever you say Josh.”

“What are you gonna get to eat?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I’ve never been here. What’s good?”

“Not sure, I haven’t been here either.”

“Alright, why don't we pick a couple things and share.” She suggested, looking down at her menu.

“Sounds good to me. Bacon?” Josh asked, looking up from his menu to look at her.

She had her eyes locked on the menu, barely paying attention to the conversation.

“I prefer sausage.”

“Jesus Christ Y/n.”

“Huh—” She said, looking up from her menu.

“Really?”

“What?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I prefer sausage.” He said, mocking her earlier statement.

“Jesus fuck Josh, it wasn’t some innuendo, I’m just not a huge fan of bacon.” She said with a laugh, rolling her eyes at him.

“Mmkay.”

“You’re gross. What are you going to get?” Y/n said, returning her attention to the menu.

“Probably the steak and eggs.”

“I was thinking of getting the strawberry banana crepes.” She said, looking up from her menu to get his opinion.

“Go for it.”

“Do you wanna share?” She asked, waiting for him to look up from his menu.

“Yeah.”

A few minutes passed before the server came back with their coffees.

He placed two small napkins down on the table in front of Josh and Y/n, making sure to flip Y/n’s over as soon as it reached the table. He promptly set the coffee cups onto the napkins before asking if he could get them anything else.

“Our waiter, if you could. I think we’re both ready to order.” Josh said, barely glancing up at the guy.

“Josh.”

He hummed in response, glancing up from his menu to look at Y/n.

“Sorry about him, woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning apparently–” She said, shooting a look at Josh.

“–But I think we’re good for now. Thank you.”

The server gave a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking away.

The second he was far enough away, Josh snatched the napkin from under Y/n’s coffee cup

“Josh! What the hell? You almost spilled my coffee!”

“I knew it!” Josh said, turning over the napkin and looking up at her.

“What?”

Josh turned the napkin towards her, displaying the scribbled name and phone number on the paper.

“Oh my god–” She began to laugh.

“–You’re getting that worked up over him putting his number on a napkin?”

Josh just continued to stare at her.

“Josh, you had me butt ass naked, tied to your bed this morning. Now you’re getting jealous over some random server giving me his number.”

“Well, I guess– well when you put it that way you make it seem like I’m toxic or something.”

“You once fucked me in the studio bathroom because you got jealous that I was talking to your brothers.”

“Well yeah. But that’s different.” He said huffing and tilting his head slightly down to look at the table.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s not different.”

“I mean— I guess it’s a bit different when it’s your brothers as opposed to a stranger.”

“Sorry.” Josh said, looking up through his lashes to meet Y/n’s gaze.

“It’s alright. I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” She said, a smirk forming on her lips.

“Do you just carry sexual tension with you wherever you go?”

“No, I think that's just something that happens when I’m around you.”

“You make it so difficult to not bend you over this table.” He leaned back in his seat with a pained look on his face.

A small gasp caught their attention, and they both turned their heads to see a table of about four older women, one of which was a familiar librarian.

“Joshua Michael!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Funny seeing you here Gale.” Josh said, a smug smile on his face as he looked at all of their reactions.

Y/n kicked Josh’s shin underneath the table, resulting in him zipping his head back to face her again.

“Knock it off! We’re in public.”

“That didn’t stop you from sticking your hand in my boxers yesterday.”

“Goddamnit, will you quiet down? Not everyone in here needs to hear your loud mouth run.”

“Would you prefer I muffle it? I know a great method to shut me up.” His smirk grew wider on his face.

“I will walk out on you right now.”

“Fine— fine. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you.” Y/n settled into her chair.

“I thought I recalled you saying stop wasn’t something that you’d be saying to me today.”

“To be fair, I never said it. You did.”

“Caught on a technicality. You win.”

“As per usual.”

“Watch what you say babygirl—” Josh started, being interrupted by the arrival of their waiter.

The two looked up from their banter as the waiter came over with pad and pencil in hand.

“Good morning, my name is Alec, I’ll be your server today. Are you two ready to order or do you need some more time with the menu?”

“I think we’re ready to order, yeah.”

“Perfect. What would you like?” Alec asked, looking at Y/n.

“Can I get the steak and eggs?”

Alec looked over to Josh, pulling his lips into a line and writing down the order before turning his head back to Y/n.

“I’ll have the strawberry banana crepes please.”

“Alright, anything else?”

“That’s it for now, thank you.”

“No problem, I’ll be right back with those.”

Y/n waited until the waiter had walked far enough away before turning to Josh and taking a sip of her coffee.

“You know Josh— if you keep giving all the male servers death glares you might get us kicked out.”

“What? What death glares could you possibly be talking about?”

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Josh.”

“Y/n.”

“I am on a date— with you— and just this morning I was begging you to fuck me. You have no reason to be jealous.” She explained.

“I kind of have reasons.” He said, looking down at his cup of ruined coffee.

“Care to elaborate on what those reasons are?” She asked with raised eyebrows, taunting him to go on.

“Hmm. No.”

“Please.”

“Let me think about it—” Josh sat in a mock thought session for a few seconds.

“—No.”

“I’ll let you stick it in my ass if you tell me.” She said bluntly, catching Josh’s attention.

“You’d let me do that anyways Miss ‘I was begging for you to fuck me this morning’.” He replied, a wicked grin forming on his face.

“I would not, that’s one of my hard no’s when it comes to sex.”

“But everything else is acceptable?”

“Not everything else, but quite a lot, yes.”

“Interesting.” He said through a laugh.

“So— what are these reasons for being jealous?” She asked.

“Well technically, we’re not even– well I don’t even know what we are or aren’t so I mean you’re technically free game to anyone who wants you.”

“And I’m choosing to spend pretty much all my free time with you.” She said, leaning forward onto her hand and looking at him.

“Shockingly.”

“Shockingly?”

“Yes, shockingly.”

“Weren’t you the one who was trying to be better so that I would want to spend more time with you?”

“Hey wanna play twenty-one questions?” Josh asked, diverting the topic.

“That’s so out of the— you know what, sure.” She said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms as she stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Alright if I counted right you have roughly five questions left.”

She glared at him.

“You’re an ass— did you know that?”

“Yes, I did. Four left. Make ‘em count babygirl.”

She opened and shut her mouth a couple times, watching the look on his face become more and more smug.

“Alright— if I hadn’t stayed over last night and damn near fucked you, would you have ever asked me out?”

“Eventually. Three.”

“When did it stop being just about sex to you?”

“It never was just about sex for me. Two.”

“What do you mean by that?” She asked, immediately recoiling at the fact that she had wasted one of her questions on an elaboration.

“Exactly what it sounds like it means. It was never just about sex.”

“Are you going to hold me to that comment about you sticking it in my ass? Cause I really don’t want to do that.”

“Do you really want that to be your last question?”

“No—”

She sat for a minute, tapping her fingers against the table as she tried to come up with her final question.

“Are we going to do this again?”

“Twenty-one questions or go to breakfast?” He asked, cocking a brow at her.

“Either, but mainly the breakfast.”

“Only if you want to.”

“Maybe next time we could do dinner, or maybe a movie. Waking up before ten am on a day we don’t have class just really isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“Even if it’s with me? Ow.” He said, holding his hand to his chest in mock offense.

“I guess it does make it better when I wake up not freezing— though the drool leaves something to be desired.” She joked.

“I do not drool.” Josh threw back at her defensively.

“Sometimes you do.”

“Bullshit.”

“Yeah you’re right, I haven’t slept in a bed with you enough to know whether you do or not.” She said, glancing up at him.

“Wanna change that I’m assuming?” He asked, eyebrow raised and lip turned up in a cocky smirk.

“Potentially.”

“Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two looked at each other for a minute, almost like they were sizing each other up.

“Oh, are you gonna do something about it?” Y/n asked.

“Maybe— maybe not.”

“Maybe not? Am I wasting my time pining after you? Cause I can always give that host a call—”

Josh took the napkin back off of the table and dipped the number in his coffee cup.

“No you won’t.”

“Oh no, not the napkin. What a shame, guess I’ll just have to bring my phone up and ask him to put his number in it.” She said, standing from the chair and turning to walk towards the host stand.

Josh stood up and ran up behind Y/n, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing her back into her chair.

“No you won’t.”

“What are you going to do about it?” She asked, watching as he sat back down in his chair.

“Watch it sweetheart.”

“What are you going to do about it?” She repeated, looking him in the eye.

“You’re being real bratty. Might wanna stop before I tell the whole restaurant.” He warned, a mischievous smile on his face.

“What are you gonna say, hm?”

“You’re really pushing buttons here. I’d be careful before I have to punish you.” He said with his volume rising slightly.

“As much as I’d love that, I think our food is coming.”

Josh looked over to see Alec walking over to the table, their food resting across his arm.

“Alright, we’ve got the steak and eggs for you—” He said, placing Josh’s plate in front of him.

“—And crepes for the lady.” He said, placing Y/n’s plate on the table and giving her a wide smile.

“Thank you.”

“If you need anything else just wave me over.” Alec said before turning and walking away.

“Wow, you got the title of lady while I’m down here at ‘you’.”

“Would you like our server to call you a lady?”

“Maybe I do.” He shrugged with an unreadable expression.

“I can call you lady from now on if you’d like.”

“Do what you want.”

“And If I wanted to call you mine?” She asked.

“That was cheesy, Y/n.” He said, looking at her and doing his best not to smile.

“I’m aware.”

“I guess I can’t stop you if you want to do that.” Josh answered her question.

“I mean, you could if you weren’t interested.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“Well obviously I’m interested.”

“Oh?“

“Did you forget what I said this morning?”

“What? That you wanted to take me on a date before you fucked me?

Josh nodded before speaking, “Didn’t you know that’s the males way of saying he’s interested?”

“I did not— good to know I guess.”

“What would you do without me? You wouldn’t know when someone’s trying to make a move on you.” Josh jested, focusing on cutting up his food.

“I think I could have figured it out, but I don’t think I’ll need to use that information now.” Y/n replied.

“You don’t?”

“I hope not.”

“Who do you have your sights on?” Josh leaned forwards on the table.

“Oh— just some curly haired idiot that goes to our school.”

“Danny?” Josh’s eyes widened in fake shock.

“Nope.”

“That kid that’s always in the historical section in the library?”

“Nah, this guy prefers to hang out in the film section.” She said, watching him pretend to think.

“One of my friends? Really? You just stabbed me in the heart. It’s Charlie isn’t it?”

“Close but no.”

“I’m out of ideas.” Josh threw himself back against the seat.

“You wanna see who it is?”

“I don’t think I can handle any more heartbreak today.”

“You think you’d be heartbroken looking at yourself?”

“Depends on the context. You see, typically I wouldn’t mind looking at someone as good looking as me in the mirror.”

“But?”

“Yeah, my ass usually looks pretty good too.”

“God you make this so difficult.”

“What am I making difficult?”

“It’s hard not to fall head over heels for you.”

“How so?”

“You’re a dumbass, and yet— every time you open your mouth, I want to be annoyed, but I just— can’t.”

“Keep going.” Josh said, leaning over his food placing his face in his hands.

“You’re a dork, eat your food before it gets cold.”

“Yes mom.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry– yes mommy.”

She shot him a look, stopping the forkful of food just before her lips.

“It’s not nice to stare.” Josh said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“But you’re just so cute.”

“Don’t make me blush.”

“But that just makes you even cuter.”

“Eat your food before it gets cold.”

“I was about to— then you called me mommy.”

Josh shrugged and started to dig into his food.

“You want a bite?” Y/n asked, lifting a forkful of crepe and fruit towards him.

Josh lifted his eyes to meet hers, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Crepe?”

“You’re going to feed me, but you don’t want me to call you mommy?”

“You’re gross, do you want some or not?”

“Sure.”

She extended her arm toward him, and he stared at her as he wrapped his mouth around the food and pulled it off of the fork.

“How is it?”

“Pretty good, you want some of mine?”

Y/n just opened her mouth in response.

“That— is way more attractive than it should be.”

“Are you gonna let me try your food or not?” Y/n slumped her shoulders, disappointed that he wasn’t giving her a bite.

“Yeah yeah, why are you allowed to tell me that I’m cute, but I can’t do the same.”

“That was a little bit different.”

“I don’t see that as being that different.”

“Really now?”

He shrugged, lifting the fork towards her.

“Is it safe to try? I don’t want you to make any more comments.”

“Just eat the food.”

“Okay daddy.”

“I— don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“Exactly.” She said before biting the food off of his fork.

The two enjoyed their breakfast, occasionally feeding each other bites. Once they had finished, they waited for their waiter to come by so that they could pay.

“Are you two ready to pay?” Alec asked, stopping in front of their table.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“And will you be paying separately or together?”

“Together, I’m taking the bill.” Josh said.

“Sounds good, cash or card?”

“Card.”

“Alright, let me grab your bill for you and I’ll be right back.”

“He’s a prick.” Josh said as soon as Alec was out of earshot.

“How Josh, how is our kind, nonthreatening waiter a prick?” Y/n asked, tilting her head at him.

“He could’ve just brought the bill right away.”

“What if we wanted more coffee? Or food?”

“I don’t know. I don’t like him though.”

“Because he didn’t read your mind and bring you the bill?”

“I just don’t like him.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that we’re just going to pay and leave.”

“Mhmm.” He pouted.

“Would it cheer you up if I requested that we go back to my apartment to watch movies and maybe take a nap?” She asked, raising a brow at him.

“What kind of movies?”

“I don't know, what would you like to watch?”

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked in return, standing from his seat and walking over to her side of the table.

“I’m gonna be honest, I’m probably going to fall asleep no matter what we watch.” She admitted, looking up at him as he offered his arm.

“We don’t have to watch anything then. Let’s just figure it out when we get back, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright, let’s go sleeping beauty.”

Alec brought the bill, and left them to go pay. Y/n and Josh walked up to the host podium and were welcomed by a familiar face. Josh leaned down to Y/n, whispering in her ear.

“Why don’t you go wait in my car, warm it up.”

“What?”

“Go get warm in the car, I’ll be out after I pay.”

“Pay and come right out. No funny business.” Y/n said pointing a finger at Josh’s chest.

“What do you think I would do?”

“I don’t know, but you would do something.”

“I promise I won’t do anything.” He said before pressing a light kiss on her cheek.

“I’m not bailing you out of jail, just remember that.”

“You won’t need to, now go warm up in the car, your hands are already freezing and we haven’t even left yet.”

“Okay. Don’t take too long. I might get lonely.” Y/n said with a wink before walking away.

Josh was faster than she expected, walking out of the restaurant a couple minutes after she had gotten into the car.

“Alright, movie time?” He asked, turning to see her curled up in the passenger seat, looking over at him.

“We gotta get to my place first.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I know the way.”

“Let’s go then.”

The drive to Y/n’s apartment didn’t take long, they got lucky as they hit mostly green lights on the way. When they arrived at the building, Y/n looked like she was about to fall asleep, so Josh got out of the car and walked over to the passengers side, opening her door.

“Do you want a piggyback ride up to your apartment? Or would you like to walk?”

“Josh, it’s just the stairs, I think I can walk.” She said, trying to pry her eyes open enough to be able to exit the car.

“Nope, get on my back.”

“Josh it’s fine, just give me a minute to open my eyes.”

“It wasn’t a question, get on my back.”

“It actually was.” She began as she wrapped her arms around Josh’s neck.

“Not the second time I said it.” He said, standing up straight as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Just bring me to my apartment.”

“Your wish is my command.” He said, shutting the car door and walking into the building.

He made it up the stairs in good time, and as they approached her apartment door, she felt him move her leg slightly and pull his keychain out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and walked in, kicking it closed behind them and locking it.

“Where did you get the key from?”

“Don’t you remember throwing it at me before you ran off to the studio that one day?”

“I thought I told you to get rid of it after?”

“Well, my choices were Jake, who would have most definitely put two and two together if he had seen me after our little escapade in the bathroom, or Sadie, who would have probably killed me if she knew you had given me a key.”

“So you kept it?”

“I kind of forgot about it until after we fought, then we didn’t talk for weeks so it felt a bit awkward.”

He walked over to the couch, sitting down with her still on his back.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I just- I don’t know.”

Josh pulled her feet closer, untying her shoes and pulling them off before throwing them towards the front door and standing up.

“Where are you going?” She asked, watching him take off his shoes.

“Would you prefer I continued to squish you against the back of the couch?” He asked, looking at her before turning and throwing his shoes to the front hall.

“Kind of. You’re like a weighted blanket.”

“Alright, scooch forward a bit and I’ll lie down behind you.”

Y/n moved her body towards the edge of the cushion, allowing for Josh to slide in behind her and lay down against the back of the couch.

“Come on miss icicle.” He said, pulling her down to press against his chest.

“Hey Josh.” She said, looking up at him.

“Yes Y/n?”

“You didn’t put on a movie.”

“Would you like me to put on a movie?” He asked, looking down at her.

“No. You’d have to get up. I’m comfy.” She said, squishing herself further into him.

“Okay, we can just take a nap.”

“Once I’m out you’re stuck here just so you know.” She said as she closed her eyes.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He replied, wrapping an arm around her.

“Josh.”

“Mhm.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Y/n just let out a small laugh before allowing sleep to wash over her body leaving Josh’s question unanswered.

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[b0ba-chan]

Girls in Skirts

summary: suna was just quiet and a little weird pt. 2 pt. 3

pairing: Suna Rintarou x fem!Reader

word count: 1400

warnings: creepy!suna, panty stealing/sniffing, nonconsensual up skirt pics, male masterbation, dark, breeding kink

a/n: i’d like to thank @miyangel​ for opening my brain to creepy suna, if this is not your thing do not read it, i put warnings for a reason, send hate and i’ll just ignore it

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

“Who’s at the door?” you come downstairs to see your mother in the kitchen, preparing tea. “Ah, it’s my coworker, can you get the door? Also, can you make friends try and make friends with her son? He’s kinda quiet and shy.” 

Of course you agree, you weren’t going to be rude to guests. You run to the door and open it for the two standing behind it. Your eyes first meet a lady, about the same age at your mother and then looking up to see a taller, lankier figure behind her. He was tall and had beautiful, fox-like eyes that never left his game console. You’d be lying if he wasn’t handsome, definitely your type which made you blush, because you know your mom was setting this all up.

“Hello, welcome! I’m (Y/N), please come in,” as you move out of the way for them to enter, you couldn’t help to notice the slight blush on his face when he glanced at you. His mother is cooing at you at how beautiful you are and how much you look like your mother, to which you accept the compliment as you walk them to the living room where your mother sets up tea.

The two older women greet each other and they brush both you and the boy away to hang out. You blush a little and smile up at him. “Shall we go to my room, then?”

Suna couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. Being in a room alone with a girl, a pretty one especially? He tries to shake off his nerves, pausing the game to follow you to your room. You continue to ask him basic questions like his name and what school he goes to. Supposedly he goes to Inarizaki as a third year, same year as you but you’re in the neighboring school. 

When you two get to the bedroom, you can’t help to feel a little embarrassed around him. He’s just so tall and gives off such a bored vibe, that you feel like you’re bothering him, but maybe he was just shy. Suna is just leaning on the wall, eyes still on the psp - every once in a while he glances up back at you when you aren’t looking. He takes in your thighs and how the skirt flatters your shape, do you have anything underneath? He feels the crotch of his pants strain slightly, so he slides down the wall to sit on the ground.

“Do you want to sit on the bed, Rintarou-kun?” you tilt your head, looking at him on the ground. Wasn’t he uncomfortable sitting there? Your thoughts were shut down when he gave you a curt no and continued to play on his game. Brushing off your anxiety, you go to sit next him to look over at what he was playing. His body tensed up as your scent wafted over him, glancing down at you and your curious eyes boring at the screen.

“What are you playing? Is it fun?” Pestering him with questions to get him to talk, but he barely budges as he only gives you ever more shorter answers than the last. It wasn’t that he was annoyed that you were asking him questions, he’s just trying to hide his fluster since you’re just so close to him. Are you always this touchy with strangers? God you smell so good, it’s already hard enough to be in your room. What would happen if he just pushed your head down to his crotch?

His thoughts were cut off when you got off of the floor, leaving him confused to why you’re getting up. You just didn’t want to bother him anymore, so you go to your bed, rolling on your stomach to scroll through your phone. The silence was comfortable to you, the only noise happens to be from your phone and Suna’s console. But to Suna, the silence was deafening, as he had a clear view of the small silk fabric that barrel covered your ass. Not wanting you to catch him looking, he keeps his console on so you think he’s still busy with his game. 

He takes out his phone, making sure his shutter is off, and continues to take pictures of your cute little panties. Suna’s mind wandered to the thought of you under him with only those pairs on, presenting your beautiful body for only him. What would you do if he climbed on top of the bed, pinning you down as he had his way with you. Would you push him off or would you let him continue? There was no doubt you were attracted to him, he saw you blush earlier so you must’ve thought of him being attractive in some way. Would you flip your skirt up and present your cute cunt for him to breed you, taking him load after load, no matter how sensitive you get. You’d have to keep quiet though, wouldn’t want to alarm your mothers, would you? Suna knows his strength, being in the volleyball club for all three years of high school as well as his height giving him an advantage to dominate you. You would be so cute telling him to stop and slow down on your poor, cum-filled cunt, but you’d take it like a good girl. He could tell that you’re a people pleaser just by looking at you.

Before he could keep imagining, you shifting around startled him. His pants strain around his crotch even tighter and his cheeks tinted in a slight pink. 

“Restroom? Where is it?” Suna asks, shocking you out of your trance on your phone. You turn back to look back at him, smiling at him. “Down the hall, on the right, next to my room.”

He excuses himself, stuffing his phone and psp into his pockets as he makes his way to the bathroom. Shutting the door, he sighs at the relief of privacy and looks around the bathroom. This must be your bathroom. Your skin care products were strayed on the sink counter, shower and tub had floral shampoo which he assumed was the reason why you smelled so good. Besides the tub, against the wall was your hamper full of your worn clothes. He goes to open it and his eyes shine at the sight of a few used panties scattered around. He grabs a few and stuffs them in his pocket, keeping hold of the pink lacey ones and takes a hesitant sniff. If his cock could get any harder, it just did. Suna pulls his pants down to jerk off over the toilet as he sniffs your cute little lace. 

He thinks back to what he would’ve done to you earlier in the bedroom, thinking about you calling out his name so he could fill you up. You’d be such a good girl for him, let him use your cunt to breed and fill you up. His orgasm built up so fast at the thought of you, almost falling off the edge and muffling his moans into your panties.

“Rintarou-kun?” You call for his name right when streaks of white cum shoot into the toilet. He grunts and hides the moan, panting softling. “Y-yeah, I’ll be out soon.”

After cleaning up and making sure the panties are stuffed safely in his pocket, he opens the door to see your sweet, smiling face staring back at him. You definitely notice the blush, but you assume he was just shy around you. “Your mother was calling for you to go, do you want to exchange numbers or something?” A flush cover both of you as you ask the question. He nods and exchanges phones for you to type each other's number. 

After that, you two never really talk or text, only every once in a while. When the Spring High Tournament comes around, Suna hears his name being called by a familiar voice. He turns to see you, running to him and waving, wearing Karasuno gear and the skirt you wore the last time you saw him. 

“(Y-Y/N)?” Suna blushes, he definitely didn’t forget you after that one faithful day. His heart was racing and guilt rushed through his body, “What are you doing here? I don’t remember you going to Karasuno?”

“Y-yeah, uhh I’m cousins with the captain, had to come and support. Congratulations by the way!” Your giggle causes him to become speechless which made the twins snicker behind him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Fufufu wouldn’t it be funny if I requested Vil getting jealous and possessive over his s/o because they said that Neige is cute?? ^o^ I give you full creative liberty over story and format, Miss Raven!! And no need to answer this immediately!! My only wish is that you write this with the intended outcome of making Mac suffer from brainrot after they read this!! >:3

P.S. If you write this in the future, thank you in advance!! <3

In honor of the recent chapter 5 update, I bring you this food @twstpasta​~

***Warning: mild chapter 5 spoilers ahead!***

Imagine this...

“Oh... Vil, look.” You gently tugged on your boyfriend’s arm, urging him to stop midstride and to follow your finger to the display window of an electronics shop.

A number of televisions were set up, displaying Vil’s face in crisp, high definition to the tune of a few notes. On the screens, he appeared much more severe, the contours of his face carved out and the highest points accented with highlight. His lips, painted a deep red, and his hair tousled, as though styled by the shadows themselves.

He perched on a throne, his long, silken legs dangling over an armrest while he arched his back against the other. Velvet studded with speckles of white gems dripped off his frame like liquid night, the cloth hiking dangerously high up Vil’s thighs.

In a room of pitch black, the only light that shone was the spotlight on him. With a slight silt of his head, he cast a sideways glance into the camera--and his lips pulled back into a sultry smile.

He was a deadly beauty, set into motion on the screen.

The lights flickered out, and a series of images flew across the screen: a shattered goblet, a broken mirror, a bent crown. Vil’s face in greyscale, only the crimson shining through, as his smile grew more and more twisted.

And then... nothingness.

A lone bottle, hourglass-shaped and adorned in an intricate pattern of violet vines and a single scarlet drop, emerged.

“Never After, Eau du Parfum,” an unseen narrator whispered, the croon tracing a chilling line down your back. The coolness only lasted for a split second before dissipating into the winter air.

“Ara, it seems they’ve already started airing this commercial,” Vil mused, a finger tucked under his chin. “I’m afraid that it is not my best work. Are you certain that you enjoy it?”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” you laughed, gently tapping a fist on his arm. “I know you’re always doing your best--and it’s amazing that you get to star in things like this. You’re amazing, Vil.”

“Hmm.” He turned his head away, neither acknowledging nor rebutting your compliment. “You always did like the aesthetics of these sorts of things, haven’t you?”

“What can I say? Pretty things are pretty--and you’re all that, and more.” You shrugged--as though it were as simple as that--and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“... Thank you for thinking so.” Vil squeezed back. “We must get going--or we may very well lose our dinner date reservation.”

“Ah, right!”

Just then, a short, familiar tune played from the televisions. Though Vil was already starting to lead you away by the hand, you still glanced back in curiosity.

Now on the screen was the same throne from Vil’s commercial, but bathed in sunlight. A different young man was seated in it, dressed in a pure white tunic with blue accents, golden threads woven throughout and making up the tassels. Large, warm eyes were framed by wisps of raven hair, his cheeks and lips a rosy pink, just slightly kissed with sunbeams.

A bluebird landed in his outstretched hand, and he giggled, taping his lips together to whistle the same few notes that had opened the commercial with his feathered friend.

He hopped off the throne and the camera panned around, showcasing a lush green landscape dotted with flowers. Another hourglass shaped bottle faded in, this one with a pink spot and deep cobalt vines--a brighter color scheme than the previous atomizer.

“Ever After, Eau du Parfum,” the narrator announced jauntily.

“Oh, hey! That commercial reminds me of yours,” you remarked, turning back to Vil. “The actor in it... That’s Neige Leblanche, I think! He’s getting really popular lately isn’t he? I see his face everywhere.”

“Yes, he has.” Vil’s reply, terse.

“I can see why he’s getting so much attention--he’s really adorable! He gives the commercial a totally different vibe, you know?”

“... Is that so?” Vil kept his eyes focused on the icy sidewalk ahead. “We filmed for the same campaign--that is why the commercials are so alike. The director had a certain concept that he wished to execute, and that required two distinctive roles.”

“I can see that. Like, a sexy versus cute thing?”

“Something to that effect, yes.” His tone was dry and all business--and perhaps touched with a hint of annoyance. “I believe the director’s exact words were, ‘two sides of the same coin, two potential paths a story can take’.”

“That makes a lot of sense. You and Neige are beautiful in your own ways!”

Vil fell silent, and his footsteps slowed to a complete halt. The grip he had on your hand had tightened considerably. You were certain that, had he not been wearing gloves, his knuckles would have been a ghostly white.

“Vil...?” Your steps, too, stilled, and you placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Vil gave a curt laugh--chilling and bitter, like a fine poison. “First you call him adorable, now you call him beautiful?”

He grimaced, cupping your cheek in his free hand. “I do not appreciate hearing another man’s name upon your lips. I should be the only one on your mind, my dear. Or--”

His grimace twisted into a smirk. “--would you be so cruel as to betray me?”

“I’d never do that.” You frowned, clutching a hand to your chest. “I’m sorry if I upset you by talking about Ne--”

“Do not speak of him,” Vil commanded, cutting you off. He gently stroked your cheek, his expression softening into something heartbreakingly beautiful. “I am right here.”

“I know. You always are,” you murmured teasingly, trying your best to fight the blush from rising to your face. “You don’t need to worry about any other guy sweeping me off my feet.”

“Fufufu. I shall hold you to that, then.” Vil leaned into you, his mouth hovering only a few centimeters above yours. The same lips that had once been stained a passionate red.  “(Y/N), (Y/N), in my hands... Tell me, who is the fairest in all of the land?”

“It’s Vil Schoenheit, of course.”

“Excellent answer.”

His lips lowered, locking with yours. He tasted like every bit of the shadows and starlight spread across the evening sky. All the light and darkness bundled into a single breath, shared between the two of you.

This was it.

Your Ever After.

[soggyjulpod]

— cargo pants

summary: misinterpretion featuring a line from the wilds, “i’m not a lesbian, sorry to disappoint. i just like storage.”

warning: lil bit of angst but there's fluff, kissing, confident!reader (whoop!), also bi reader for this plot to work out, so sorry if ur purely homo

word count: 1.7k

on a tuesday night you found yourself sitting in a circle playing a game of truth or dare which was suggested by jackson’s very own dysfunctional couple, jesse and dina.

the chatter and laughter of the game continued around you but you were only focused on the redhead who sat across from you in the circle. though the redhead didn’t seem to notice the set of eyes on her as she was in deep thought.

ellie finally looked up when dina called on her to pick truth or dare. she noticed your eyes on her and her cheeks blush pink and sends you an awkward smile.

“uh dare i guess.” ellie says. there was a mischievous glint in dina’s eyes, “i dare you to kiss [y/n].”

the color from ellie’s face drained, instant panic set in. “what? dina, no.” ellie protests, “don’t make it weird.”

before dina could respond to ellie’s protests, you spoke up, “it’s ok i don’t mind.” you say scooting across the circle, sitting right in front of ellie. you felt your insides bubble in excitement but outwardly you appeared aloof, not wanting anyone to see a crack in your confidence.

“you know we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” the redhead whispers quietly for only you to hear. 

you lean closer to ellie, your lips just a hair away from her ear. this action causes a light blush to creep up on her freckled face. 

“we got this, don’t want them to think we pussy out of things, right?” you say and move away with a grin on your face. 

ellie gives you a shaky smile, trying to calm herself down at how close her crush was to her. you looked at each other, it felt like everything around you two had vanished and it was just the two of them.

your trance was broken by jesse who yelled at you two to “kiss already! we don’t have all damn night!”

you whipped her head around and flipped him off before quickly turning back around and taking ellie's face in your hands and connecting your lips.

the redhead was caught off guard for a split second but then kissed back, melting into it. the kiss was soft, it was just like what ellie had imagined kissing a pretty girl like you. it felt like they were in a trance again, like a veil closing around them giving them all the time in the world to feel each other.

they pulled away as the hoots and hollers of the teens around them grew obnoxiously. ellie’s cheeks grew embarrassingly red at the attention that was put on her.

ellie tuned out the game as it continued on, she was too in her own head thinking about how she just shared a very hot kiss with the girl she’s been crushing on for over two year.

the redhead only perked back up when she heard your name be called out for a turn.

“truth.” you choose. “soooo [y/n]...” dina trails off cheekily.

“yes, dina?” you challenge with a smirk and takes a sip of the terrible beer in your cup. 

“how many girls have you kissed?” the dark haired girl asks.

“one.”

“seriously?!” dina exclaims in disbelief, her eyebrows then furrowed in thought, “does that mean ellie was..?”

“yep, first and only girl i’ve kissed.” you explain, you notice the surprised looks that start to appear on the faces of your peers, “what?” you ask, confused about the change in behavior.

“um, i think we all thought you were gay,” dina says awkwardly.

the dark haired girl then points to your pants, “you wear cargo pants a lot.” she states. you bursts out laughing at the archaic stereotype, “i’m not a lesbian, sorry to disappoint. i just like storage.” 

laughter erupts from the room except from one person, ellie. you notice a frown appear on her face. you made brief eye contact with her in which the ginger gave you a curt smile, of course you could tell it was fake, that there was some pain behind those green eyes. but from what, you weren't sure.

to ellie that kiss felt so real, she thought there was genuine passion behind it. she had thought with that kiss and how flirting you’ve always been with her in the past that you would have reciprocated her feelings. but her heart broke has her reassurance was crumbled by a simple phrase, ‘i’m not a lesbian’

feeling overwhelmed with her emotions and not wanting to bring her bad vibe to the rest of the group, ellie felt it best to leave. she quickly said her goodbyes without sparing a glance at you, using the excuse of having patrol in the morning to leave early.

it immediately dawned on you that maybe ellie had misinterpreted what you had said, maybe the redhead got upset because she thought you didn’t like her back or had a chance with her at all. 

you quickly got up leaving the group without bothering to respond to the people calling out for you, your only priority was to fix this misunderstanding as fast as possible.

“ellie! wait up!” you called out to the redhead a few yards away from you. ellie whipped her head around, a surprised look on her face. 

even with being only slightly illuminated by the moon, you could see the redness and puffiness of ellie’s eyes, the green of them popping out and making it more obvious. your heart immediately sunk at the sight.

“hey are you ok?” you ask softly, your hand reaching up toward her face in concern but ellie moved her head away.

“yeah i’m good. what’s up?” she quickly responded, trying to change the subject. “can i crash at your place tonight? i don’t feel like walking across town this late and this drunk.”

“yeah sure.” ellie says, “how much of that beer did you have anyways?”

“too much, i swear i’m not a lightweight but honest to god i have no idea what seth puts in that beer.” you grin.

a smile cracks on ellie’s face, “no wonder it tasted so awful, it's because seth made it.” she jokes.

“he has his own little asshole recipe.” you joke back, making ellie tilt her head back in laughter. you smile at the fact that you were able to lift the bad spirit from your friend.

you continued to chat and talk shit as you two walked to ellie’s shed. the redhead was glad that even though she’ll never have you as her girlfriend, she could always have you as a best friend.

when you entered the shed you both immediately started getting ready for bed, the long night with your friends had tired you both out immensely. ellie handed you a pair of sweatpants to change into which you did, right in front of her.

ellie remembers the first time you two had a sleepover over two years ago, the redhead got taken by surprise when her crush started stripping in front of her to get in her pajamas with no regard that she was still in the room. she was flustered at seeing the bare skin of the girl she was crushing on.

“what? it's not a big deal, we’re both girls and it's just skin, no need to get weird el.” she remembers you saying to her. eventually ellie just got used to it, taking it as a sign of trust that you would be that vulnerable around her.

ellie changed into her night clothes as well, she watched as you take your bra off without removing your shirt, “you gotta teach me how to do that one day.” the redhead says, it was something you'd always done that had intrigued ellie.

“what, take off my bra?” you tease. ellie’s cheeks blush realizing how her words sounded. “no, i mean like i’ve wanted to know how to do it so i can do it to myself, not you.” she rambles trying to explain herself.

you start to giggle at her response, “what?” ellie says, pouting.

“it's just that you're cute.” ellie feels her heart skip.

you lay down, snuggling into the bed and pat the space next to you, beckoning her over. she lays next to you on her side. neither of you say anything as you stare at each other.

“you want to tell me why you were crying earlier.” you ask, ellie rolls her eyes and shift onto her back, refusing to make eye contact.

“it was nothing.” the redhead mumbles. “ellie i know you, that wasn't nothing, talk to me please.” you plead. ellie chews on her lip nervously, trying to decide whether or not she should confess to you.

“i, uh, shit i don't know how to say this” she starts, turning over to her side to face you, “but i really really like you [y/n], and i have for the past two years and its being eating me up from the inside to see you with other people and not be able to tell you. and i know you just want to be friends because you said that-”

you cut her off by placing your lips on hers. the redhead soon eagerly kissed back, her hands finding their way on your head and your hands to her shoulders. as the kiss progress you both got more desperate to be close, rolling over so that ellie was flat on the bed and you were straddling her waist. ellie’s hands moved to your hips and yours to the sides of her head.

the redhead pulled away from the kiss. “i thought you said you weren’t a lesbian,” she whispers.

“correct.” 

“oh” ellie says as her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and confusion, “then why’d you kiss me?” she questions, a bit pissed off that her friend was leading her on.

“just because i don’t like girls exclusively doesn’t mean i don’t like them at all.” you grin and lean down, giving ellie a peck on the lips. ellie smiles, realizing that she finally had her chance.

“what does that make us then?” she asks shyly. you smile down at her, “girlfriends, only if you want to.”

“are you kidding? that’s the only thing i’ve wanted for years.” she exclaims and sits up, placing you on her lap and kissing you again.

she pulls away slightly, “i could get used to this.”

“me too.” you whisper and pull her into another kiss.

the scene from the wilds:

[bitchassbucky]

.avi

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning/s: nsfw! (literally) stalkerish themes. dark!bucky x dark-ish!reader. cybercrimes being committed. f & m masturbation. sex toy (vibrator mention). this is kinda meta, tbh.

A/N: the long-awaited part two of .exe mwahaha. we're delving not-that-deep into bucky's little thingy methinks. as always, reblogs and comments are welcomed! <3

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

Jesus Christ, you’re insatiable.

Bucky barely woke up when he caught you masturbating with a rabbit vibrator on your bed—laying on your stomach. The towel you thoughtfully laid on was folded halfway. He assumes that you’re a squirmer too when you come. The Friday night show was his favorite though, shame that he didn’t get any footage of it.

His dick is already hard but he’s got no time to waste just yet. Clicking open a screen recording app, he gets to work. Bucky’s already got some footage of you sleeping, cleaning up, and tidying your sheets. In his little mind palace, he’d never let you do any of these things—he’ll be the one to change the sheets, he’d tuck you in bed too.

Bucky let the program run on the desktop as he went to get his breakfast. His mind keeps drifting back to you in his office.

How do you like your coffee?

Do you even like coffee?

You look like a tea kind of person.

Maybe he’ll ask you for breakfast, as soon as he learns how your morning routine goes.

When he came back to his desk, the bed was already made up (again). He got worried for a second until your face came into the frame, your glasses fogged up with vapor.

You bring the laptop with you to the living room, along with a big mug of… something.

He’s gotta learn what you like so he can like it too.

On his side of the things, he sees that you keep your word processor running in the background. More work, perhaps? He hadn’t had the chance to check out your files just yet. He kept himself busy with your pictures and candids. Bucky had his favorites all printed out—he, of all people, knows that technology can’t be trusted, so why were you uploading these pictures of yourself?

There were ones taken in your bathroom, he presumes. On your bed. In the kitchen. By a fucking window, for crying out loud.

He wants to be the one to take these pictures, to imprint them into his memory. Seared in his brain. But not yet.

For now, he just needs to get back at making sure you’re safe in your apartment.

You’ve been staring and smiling at your phone for a while now.

What are you up to?

—

Turns out Mr. IT Guy isn’t very social-media savvy.

All his pictures are out in the open for everyone to see. You wonder what he’s like in private, then.

Maybe he likes posting candids of his new girlfriends and deleting them when it’s over? For a man who has a face of a god, you’d expect to see at least a girlfriend within the past few months.

But he doesn't. No corny pictures, no hashtags of anniversaries, no tagged photos.

You spent your morning working up yourself with your trusty vibe, the image of him fucking you by the kitchen sink fresh on your brain.

Holy shit, does he have that effect on everyone?

What if you wander into his office after a shift and you’d find him stroking his cock? Would you close the door and never speak of it? Maybe you’d smirk and walk over him, sinking down on your knees to suck him off.

God, now you’re all worked up again. Horny, hot, and bothered. That’s good though, then you’d have the energy to finish the chapter you left a week ago.

—

So you’re a writer by choice. Bucky knew that much.

What he wasn’t expecting though, is you write the most explicit things.

The all-white collar girl he met last week likes to get fucked roughly. Overstimulated. Choked. Gagged. Slapped. Spit on.

He’s gotta show you how to make love. Slow, sensual love. Preferably after the roughhousing, that is.

Oh, the things he’d do to you—how he’ll worship your body, head to the tip of your toes. Bucky wants to bury his cock between your lips and praise you for the good girl you are. He wants to let you know that you don’t need to be degraded in order to come.

You just need him.

Bucky’s cock twitches in his sweatpants, still painfully hard. The thick vein on the underside of his shaft protrudes, waiting for him to just fuck something warm.

His hand will do for now.

By the time he got his hand gripping the base of his cock, he’s got you in fullscreen. The recording app still running in the background.

You’re busy. Typing. Researching. Looking for words to replace ‘say.’ Your sleep shirt is loose on your soft frame.

Bucky focuses on you, then. Imagining you on your knees, right here in his apartment. You’d be wearing those glasses you have on. He knew he had a thing for girls with glasses.

He closes his eyes to indulge himself in his own movie.

Your tongue laying flat against his girth, drooling all over the thick base of his dick. He’d let you take your time licking, all the way from his balls to tip. Your lips would close around his leaking head, teasing and tasting his precum.

One of his ties would be around your wrists so you’d learn how to use your mouth.

Bucky swears to God that he felt your mouth closing in on his cock as he pistons his fist faster. A guttural moan spills out of his mouth as his toes curl, the carpet gripping the pads of his feet.

“God, fuck—Y/N.”

Bucky forgoes any kind of underwear last night, only dressing himself up with baggy sweatpants. It was for the better too. He doesn’t think he’d come so much from watching someone—well, not just someone—on the screen.

He sighs, wiping himself clean on the underside of his pants. He needs to do his laundry soon.

Bucky looks at your face longingly from his side of the screen; God, is this how long-distance couples feel?

Maybe he’ll shoot you a text later.

—

Unknown Number: I hope you’re doing well.

Unknown Number: How's your laptop?

Unknown Number: Shit, sorry, it’s Bucky from IT. :)

Your head spun in three different directions as the texts came in.

Hey, Bucky! I’m doing well. The laptop is too.

Was it too curt? Well, you didn’t want to come off too strong. It’s not like he’s been on your mind for the better half of your weekend morning.

Your stomach made a worrying flip as the message status turned Read 10:44 AM. But there was no typing bubble.

Whatever, you’re fine. You’re a busy girl. A strong, independent woman who—

IT Guy Bucky: Good! Just checking on you. We had some downtime due to system maintenance last night.

Oh, it’s work.

No problems on my end! You type in quickly, sending it. To be fair, all you had in common was a band.

Hey, I have a question. It’s not work-related.

—

Oh.

Oh, he fucked up, didn’t he?

Y/N: Do you know any restaurants near the office? I’m sick of eating take-out food. Other than the hipster hideyhole you told me.

Bucky breathed out a sigh of fucking relief when he read your text. He chuckles mostly at himself and composed a reply.

Yeah! I have a non-hideyhole spot a block away from the office. You wanna check it out sometime?

You already got inside jokes.

Is 11:30 good?

Yeah, Bucky types, a smile forming on his lips, 11:30 it is.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Can I place an order for Yandere Geralt de Rivia with the kind and loving reader who sees the best in people?

Yes lemme cook something up for our mans Geralt⚔️

Geralt of Rivia x reader - Full Moon on the Rise

Summary: You’ve never felt actual hate for others, you can’t even bring yourself to hurt a fly, and with Geralt, he’ll make sure you never have to.

Warning: a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective Geralt

Masterlist

“So what do you think? The green cloak or the black one....ohhh or maybe the red one?” You ask excitedly as Geralt stands next to you, looking around for any potential threats more then actually paying any real attention, “I mean, the green matches more with the woods, you know trees n’ such and that’s great for blending in. But the black gives off those scary vibes you have. But the dark red one just looks so good, and comfy too.” You raise a brow as he nods, “You know.”

“Right.”

You smile at his adorably lack luster reply, it’s just how he is and that’s perfectly fine with you, “I’m going with the dark red cloak.” You grin with a curt nod of self approval for your knowledgeable decision making skills.

Turning to the cloak vendor you hold up your prize, “Good evening ma’am, how much for this mysterious beauty?”

The old woman smiles brightly, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as she beams, quite excited to have some business with you, “Oh, my dear that’ll be five silver pieces.” You nod, tucking your new cloak under your arm as you nudge Geralt for some coin.

He quickly snaps his head over to you, his golden irises showing concern before he realizes you’re completely fine, “Y/N what is it?”

With a small giggle you make a grabby motion with your hand, “Spare me five silver pieces my good sir.” You muse with a mischievous brow wiggle, earning an amused huff from your Witcher.

He politely grins, “Whatever the lady asks.” Feeling around he pulls out the exact amount of coin you need. Your palm is spread as he tilts his hand into yours, conveniently giving you the coin.

“Thank you my love.” You whisper softy as he simply hands you the flash of a smile before turning his head to scour the market place once again.

The old woman opens up a small sack of coins for you to dump yours in, “Thank ya dear, have a save eve’nin.”

Clink. Sounds the last silver piece as you hold your new dirt-less red cloak closer in your arm, “You too.”

She suddenly leans in a bit closer, her face going serious, “Best keep that Witcher close, never know what kind of beasts be lurking in the woods. Specially with the next full moons a com’in.” Her wrinkly complexion turning back into her original beaming old lady face, “Have a nice stay in Bellepav.”

Stepping away you nervously nod, “Uh, yes....I’ll try?” You reply, not certain if you should be concerned or ignore the weirdness of the locals.

Deciding to ignore the strange behavior of the kind old woman, you flash her a last generous grin before turning on your heel and walking over to Geralt. With the familiar sound of your approaching footsteps he turns an intrigued eye over to you.

His brows furrowing as you gently lay a hand on his arm, “You alright Y/N.” He worries, noticing the slight wariness in your step.

Lightly squeezing his forearm you send him a reassuring smile, “Of course, that old woman was just acting odd. Well not that odd, I’ve definitely seen weirder....she just had a strange look when she told me to keep you close and watch out for the next full moon.”

He moves to take your cloak from you, quietly swinging the thick comfortable dark red fabric around your shoulders, clasping the lock together that keeps the material from falling off your body.

After he’s done, does his beautiful golden eyes find your alluring ones, “Y/N, we’ll be fine. I wouldn’t dare let a soul touch you, you have my word.”

Reaching up to gently cup his scruffy cheek, you smirk, “I know you do.” Releasing your warm touch from his face do you turn towards the bakers cart, the smell of fresh bread wafting into your nostrils.

“Geralt!” You exclaim with an excited twinkle in your eyes, “Fresh bread....” Your skilled eyes land upon the shiny red apples displayed about on the stall, “Apples! Ugh, I haven’t had an actual apple in almost four months, what I would do for one.”

Your eyes stare dreamily at the bakers cart, your mouth watering at the smell and sight of the desired foods. Geralt chuckles at your adorable reaction before tugging at your arm. “Come on Y/N, I’ll get you something.” Speaks your kind Witcher with a tinge of humor in his gravely voice.

Snapping your head towards him, your eyes going wide in excitement, “Aww yes!” You shout before pulling him in the direction of the cart, joy flowing through your heart as you make hasty steps across the market place.

The red apples are even more beautiful then you’d first seen as you stand ogling them from your spot in the muddy lane, “Sir I’d like three apples and a loaf of that bread please.” You ask, your voice sweet as honey.

He nods, “That’ll be two silver pieces and a copper cent.” Inquires the baker with a friendly smile, casually looking you up and down though you’re to focused on the apples to even notice his slight creepiness.

Geralt does and immediately steps forward, his broad leather armored shoulder placing itself in between you and the lonely baker. His golden irises dark and deadly as he stares down the now noticeably frightened man.

The baker takes a step back, sending him a shy half grin, “Uh...I’ll get those apples...and uh...loaf of br-bread.” He stutteres, dropped his eyes to nothing else but his new task at hand.

You watch from behind Geralt’s strong body, your mind on those big beautiful apples as Geralt fishes out the coin, dropping it atop the wooden table as the baker hands him the loaf and a small bag filled with three juicy red apples.

A smile breaks out upon your face as Geralt hands you the food, you gratefully accept as he turns and practically death glares at the stunned baker, who’s notably averted his gaze to his fluffy loaves of bread.

Geralt turns back around to watch as you hug your valuables close, a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips at your obliviously cute demeanor.

Resting a hand on your shoulder he finds your beaming eyes, “Lets go find Roach.”

You gasp, “I bet Roach would love one of these big beautiful bastards.” Earning a chuckle from your silver haired lover as he walks by your side on the way to the front entrance of the small village.

You both wander past some more harmless villagers going about their business until a small dirty little boy races past the two of you, tripping over his own two feet and just like that does he abruptly fall into the dirt. His hands landing with a thwack sound as his stomach and knees reach the hard ground.

He lets out a pained cry once his chin hits the earth, you don’t have time to think before you’ve crouched by his side like a concerned mother. You gently touch his shoulder as he sniffles, his dirt smudged face turning to you.

“That was quite the tumble, are you alright?” His big brown eyes are filled with unshed tears as he moves into a seated position, his hands clutched tight against his chest as he holds in the pain.

“Y-yes.....sorry miss I should have been looking were I was going.” He mutters, his eyes downcast as he avoids Geralt’s hard gaze from right next to you.

Your eyes turn soft before you take one of your red apples from out of your thin ruck sack, “I have just the thing that would cheer you up, ever taste something as colorful as this crimson beauty?” You add with a raise of your brow, the young boy sniffles again. His face lighting up as you wave the shining red apple across his line of sight.

You smile, handing him the scarlet treat, “I think you need this more then me. Maybe it’ll sharped those senses so you won’t fall again, hmm.”

He holds the valuable in his small grubby fingers, his eyes wide in surprised wonder, “Th-thank you miss, I’ll try and not fall again.”

You breath out an amused snort, “Yes, I wouldn’t want to land on these streets again, considering horses are ridden through them daily.” The brown eyed boy gives you the shyest of smiles before you stand to your full height once again.

“Safe travels.” You add with a friendly wink before continuing on your way out of the village, Geralt trailing after you like the ever loyal lover that he is.

His large form keeps comfortably at your side, “That was our apple Y/N.” States Geralt in his titular gruff Witcher voice.

Turning an amused smirk to him, you nudge his arm, “Great observation, but the little beast seemed to need it more...poor thing just about face planted in the street. Did look quite painful.”

Geralt smiles, always bemused by your kind intellect, “Y/N you are too kind.”

Walking past the front gates and down the muddy village trail you let out a small laugh, “What? Can I not give a little, if you haven’t noticed my White Wolf...this world doesn’t like to be very kind to the innocent most times.” He hums in agreement, “So you see, I’ll do whatever I can to help those who need it most. And if that’s a clumsy child with a dirty face, I’ll be glad to make their day better.”

You can’t see it, but Geralt’s heart could just about explode with how much love he has for you in this very moment, the way you speak with such care and kindness for the people of the continent. He’s never met anyone like you, through it all, with all you’ve seen, your heart still goes out for the ones who need it the most and Geralt knows this. 

Your whole aurora feels light and warm, excitement courses through your vessel as you think of how happy Roach is going to be once she gets a taste of your delicious apple. And especially how much you’re looking forward to taking a bite out of your own crispy red apple too. It’s the little things.

Boots press into mud as you finally find your way to the small stream where you both left Roach to nibble on some vegetation. You quickly set your loaf of bread onto a mossy log before reaching in your thin ruck sack to pull out one beautifully shiny crimson apple.

“Hello my dear Roach!” You exclaim happily as the mare neighs, “I’ve got a lil somethin’ for ya, it’s a...da da da daaaa....apple!” Geralt chuckles to himself in the background as he fumbles around in his black traveling bag, finding something to sharpen his sword with.

“How bout’ them apples..” you burst with laughter at your admittedly cheesy jest, “Okay, okay...here ya go Roach. A prize for the best lady in all the land.” Her head bobs up and down as you bring the red apple near her face. She quickly devours the fruit in a matter of seconds, the speed and her clear delight enough to earn a giggle from you.

“Roach.” You tut with a shake of your head, “Those manners are something else. Wonder who you learned them from?”

You turn an eye to Geralt who’s stopped sharpening his sword to find your humored gaze, “I wouldn’t have the slightest idea.” He mutters, doing his best to hide his growing smile.

Turning a flustered face away from him you gently pet Roach’s soft mane, “He thinks he’s funny, doesn’t he?” You whisper to the mare.

After tending to Roach for a bit do you walk down to the stream, washing away the dirt and grime from your hands and face as Geralt starts a fire close by. You can feel his golden irises watching you as the cool water washes away the worries of the day.

Finishing up your nightly routine, you stand once more, turning around to face the loving smile of your dear Witcher. You walk over to his glowing fire, a small smile upon your lips, “Room for one more?”

He scoots himself down the log, patting to the extra spot, “There’s always room for you.”

Sitting yourself next to him, he quickly wraps a protective arm around you, pulling your body close. The both of you do nothing but enjoy one another’s company and the crackling of the campfire for what seems like hours. You couldn’t be bothered to remove yourself from Geralt even if a whole war party was racing past you both louder then a giants scream.

Though you’re just about certain without a doubt in your mind that Geralt feels the exact same way. His breathing his steady and calm, it’s a comforting rhythm that you could listen to for hours. Even his large muscular arm is warm against your body, he’s like a furnace on the coldest night. And all yours.

You’re just about to drift off into dreamland when a sudden loud howl is heard in the near distance causing you to jump. Geralt hugs you closer, “Fear not Y/N, it’s just a damn wolf, nothing to be afraid of.” He assures you with the kindest of smiles, not a note of falseness lacing his words.

Resting your head against his broad shoulder once again, you gently squeeze his hand, “Right, of course. Just a stupid old wolf who apparently feels it the time to howl at the full moon tonight.” You affirm with a curt nod, “I mean, it’s beautiful out and whatnot, guess it just startled me is all.”

“There’s nothing in these woods to be afraid of, except for me.” Grumbles Geralt as he stares into the embers of the fire.

“Oh, my love I could never be afraid of you. Never.” He smiles at your truthfulness, his chest filling with warmth at your kind words.

In reply he places a gentle kiss atop your head, earning a content sigh to leave your lips at the feeling, he is too good to you and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not once has he ever made you uncomfortable or in fear for your life because of him, Geralt makes sure of himself to always put you first. He couldn’t bare to ever see you in pain.

The grip on your Witcher’s arm goes tighter at the sound of another piercing howl, this time much too close for your liking. Geralt can sense the fearful uneasiness radiating off of your smaller frame, how your heartbeat has picked up with the rush of your nerves. You’re not one to scare that easily, but this wolf is most definitely getting closer for whatever reason.

“Geralt!” You whisper yell, “That sounded close!”

With one arm wrapped around your torso and the other one clasped around the hilt of his silver sword, he looks around him as they two of you keep seated atop the log, a grand moon cloaking the land in a strangely beautiful whiteness. Revealing enough light upon the ground so that not all of the forest is covered in darkness and shadow.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I will protect you.” He swears to you, giving a light squeeze to your hip in a small act of comfort, “And anyways, if this was anything to be truly concerned about, Roach would show it. We are going to be fine. This wolf is simply just passing through.”

Your eyes glance over to Roach who’s casually nibbling on some grass, “Alright. Perhaps I’m overreacting, it’s just a wolf going on a nightly stroll as you do, nothing weird about that.”

“Precisely, now how about we get ready for bed? I’ve got the bed rolls already layed out for us....so don’t worry Y/N I’ve got you.” Reassures your Witcher as he removes his arm from your side to rest his sword in the grass right next to his makeshift bed. 

Feeling much better now you eagerly follow suit, the roughish cloth of your traveling bed roll is a cherished luxury of journeying across the vast lands of the continent. Though a tavern mattress would be more inviting, the arms of Geralt are always enough in your eyes, or perhaps arms in this case.

Even on the coldest of nights out here would you never really feel a shiver or the icy touch of the cool night air upon your skin. For your Witcher’s large frame seems to always be enough to block out the chill with his body heat when pressed closely against your back.

 Just like he is doing now, holding you securely to his large chest, his arms wrapped around your torso. Pulling yourself firmly counter to him, a thick blanket holding in the needed heat that nicely covers over the both of you.

With Geralt so near, your wandering and worrying mind has subsided those troublesome thoughts away from you, the howling wolf from earlier now finding it’s way into the back of your head. Giving yourself time to forget and find the call to sleep once again. With the warmth of Geralt holding you close, your eyelids flutter shut in a matter of seconds, the pull into the dark void of unconsciousness taking hold of you quickly.

Soon you’re out like a light, Geralt falling asleep not long after you do, leaving only the dull glowing embers of the campfire to keep watch over the two of you. Sleep is peaceful and full of strange images presenting themselves as dreams in your head, you can hear the soft sweet calling of Geralt as he speaks sweet nothings into the bleary grey void. 

Suddenly you’re standing in a large field of the greenest grasses flowing at your feet, large beautiful mountains surrounding you on all sides off in the far distance, you look to your left and find a single small tree with a branch sticking out. 

Walking closer, a black raven materializes right before your very eyes, breaking the silence with a gravelly shrill caw as it nods in your direction. Like it’s trying to communicate with you in the birds own way, furrowing your brows, you trek closer to the mysterious bird. You don’t appear to feel afraid or scared, you’re not even sure if you feel anything at all. Guess that’s just how dreams are sometimes.

Taking another step closer the raven lets out a thrilling caw before the dark bird spreads its black wings, you stumble back as the bird jumps from its perch to take flight. It flaps past you before landing on the short green grass where it is immediately clouded in dark smoke of blues, purples, and deep reds until everything clears to reveal the dirt smudged face of the little boy from earlier that day.

You gasp, surprised to see the little guy standing right before you once again, he looks up to you now, the tiniest of smiles crossing over his face. You stand perplexed, ready to ask him why he’s here when suddenly he points to the blue sky. 

“Hold your silver close.” He speaks softly, in that unassuming boyish voice of his.

Hugging yourself, you glance back down at him, “Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean.”

He simply points his little stubby finger back up at the sky, you follow, bewildered to find that the sky is now dark and full of stars, though you can still see around you like the sun is still out. How odd.

“Hold your Witcher close.” Warns the small child in the calmest of voices. 

Furrowing your brows in confusion you meet his stoic gaze once again. “Uh....I’m kind of lost, sorry.” You mutter, “I’m not certain what you mean.”

The child smiles a beaming grin, letting out the most adorable of giggles before pointing up at the night sky for the third time, you shift your gaze to find nothing but pitch blackness. And a huge milk white glowing full moon, it’s the largest you’ve ever seen and it’s absolutely magnificent.

You don’t even notice the smile that's fallen onto your face when you suddenly hear the flapping of feathers, snapping your sight back over to the young boy, you’re perplexed to be greeted with the beaming wrinkly face of the old woman from the market. 

She nods, acknowledging your presence, “Watch for what lurks in the woods dear. The full moon is here.” She whispers, the warmest of smiles gracing over her aged face as she nods to you once again.

Taking a step closer you take a nervous fistful of the red cloak that’s covering your body, how strange you didn’t notice the material before hand. “Oh, uh hello there....it is quite beautiful isn’t it.” You stammer, “There was a little boy just here moments ago. Do you know where he went?”

She tilts her head to the side, walking a couple steps forward so that she can reach out to clasp both your hands with hers, a kind twinkle in her eye, “My dear, he will always love you, through land and sea, from woods to meadow, and far beyond what makes us human.” She gently squeezes your hands in reassurance, “No matter the cost, he will always love you. For you are his moon, and he is your sun.”

Your brows scrunch together at her poetic words of wisdom? Or, well you’re not entirely so sure, “Sorry. I’m not confident on what you’re getting at ma’am, uh...thank you, I guess.” She smiles once again, showing you a nod of approval before letting go of your hands. 

She takes a step back, clasping her palms together, “He is here.” 

“Who is here?” You wonder.

“You will see.”

Without warning she abruptly bursts into a flurry of cawing ravens that squawk and screech as they press and flap their dark wings against your face, causing you to fall back into the grass from the jolting intrusion. Suddenly you suck in a quick breath of cold air, your eyes shooting wide open, only for you to find the snoozing face of Geralt. 

His tangled dirty white hair a mess over his handsome face as he lets in slow and calming breaths, you relax, letting out an audible sigh of relief. What a strange dream that was, you’ve never had anything like it before. And your dreams are far from anything normal most times. 

Though Geralt feels rather nice snuggled next to you, your body feels hot and sweaty, like you can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed and cornered at the moment. Wanting to get some air and cool off, you quietly and skillfully slip from your Witcher’s sweet embrace. You slowly cover him back up with the thick blanket, tip-toeing over to Roach who’s itching her furry bottom on a tree.

You take small steps towards her, a half smile pulling at the corner of your lips, “Hey there girl, having fun?” You chuckle to yourself as she does her thing.

“Nice night huh, I hope no one’s come around to bother you.” She leans her big soft nose into your gentle touch as you pet her, “I got a little too warm, guess Geralt’s a lot hotter then I anticipated. Well, I mean...he’s always hot if you catch my meaning...but you probably already new that and uh....you’d probably rather not listen to me ramble on about how attractive your rider is, hmm? So don’t fret, I will stop.”

She snorts, nudging her nose into your opened palm, “Okay girl, I think you’re great too. I’d say you’ve helped us out quite a bit and not to mention when...” 

Snap.

Your head leers to the left at the abrupt sound, nothing but milky white darkness and shadow is to be seen as your eyes trail over the wood line. That was certainly very close, what the hell even made that stick break? Was it a deer, or maybe a coyote? 

Your nerves prick when Roach suddenly takes a wary step backwards, her leather reigns pulling to their limit as she takes another step away from you. Thinking quick, you rush to her side, pulling out Geralt’s other silver sword just incase some weird shit is about to go down.

Grasping the blade in your tight grip, you take cautious steps towards the heavy pines that seems to be the place where the stick snapped. You swallow nervously, your heart just about beating out of your chest as you travel closer and closer to the green bristles. 

Y/N what are you doing? Have you learned nothing from what those weird dreams were telling you?

Blinking hard, you stop, turning an apprehensive glance over to your peacefully sleeping Witcher, why wake him this could be a simple deer? Letting out another shaky breath you turn towards the thick pine trees, squinting your eyes as you try and do your absolute best to locate the intruder. Walking past a small evergreen, your heart feels like it’s about to explode when suddenly you hear a gentle rustle of leaves directly in front of you.

Turn back idiot.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you blink again, attempting to focus enough that maybe you’ll be able to see what’s making that noise. But as you’re leaning in to the pines, does your eyes finally catch the sight of a large black figure standing on the other side of the tree. Without warning the shadow leaps, you don’t even have a chance to scream before the flash of pearly white fangs reveals itself to you in a raging blur. 

The beast shoves you back into the clearing, emitting a blood curdling howl of agony as it steps into the moonlight, your eyes widen in fear at the chilling sight of a huge dark-grey werewolf. It’s inhuman eyes that of glowing topaz, it’s fangs bare and mouth dripping with saliva. Your chest rises and falls with heavy terrified breaths as the wolfman stands on two legs, its strong hand going to its stomach where a thick human like paw pulls out your silver blade.

Steaming red hot blood pours to the frost covered earth as the beast drops the shinning silver to the ground, its wound showing in the bright moonlight as it eyes you down like you’re nothing more then a lost sheep. You shiver at the sight, desperately scooting yourself backwards towards the fire as the werewolf growls a low but haunting note, falling onto all fours as it takes a step closer.

A frightful tear falls down the side of your cheek, you see nothing but hunger and pain in this creatures eyes, he’s slowly dying, but you know he will kill you before his last breath is had.

The wolfman growls again, readying a last charge when all of a sudden a shimmering silver sword is thrust deeply into the beasts throat, the source of its demise steps in between you and the wounded bastard.

Your eyes are wide as you watch the werewolf sink to the earth, gargling and choking on it’s own blood as it dies, twitching here and there before finally it goes still as stone. Not a sound emitting from it’s vessel but the heavy breaths of yourself and Geralt, who’s walked over to the beast now. Crouching down to observe it better, he hums, pulling the blood covered sword out of the monsters throat with a gross meaty sound.

You let out a shaky breath, slowly pulling yourself to your feet as Geralt drags his bloody silver over the beasts fur to clean the wet red from the blade. You swallow thickly, eyes watery from the whole frightening ordeal, “So not a deer as I had hoped.” You mutter, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips causing you to gasp in pain at something on your ribs. 

Geralt pierces his sword into the soft dirt, his face a mask of frustrated anger as he turns to you, “Y/N what where you thinking? You could have been killed, you didn’t know what was lurking in the dark, why wouldn’t you have just stayed by the fire?” He grumbles as you avoid his troubled gaze.

Another tear slips down your cheek causing his face to immediately soften, “I don’t know?” You whisper sadly, “I...I shouldn’t have thought to walk in the dark alone like that, it was foolish of me Geralt, truly...I’ll think better of it next time I promi- agh ugh...”A sharp jolting pain rips through your body right down the side of your right ribcage, feeling like someone has just burned you with a cast iron. 

More whimpers slip from your tongue at the searing violent stinging of your flesh causing you to press your hands against the area, your face contorting into one of agony while Geralt’s expression reveals deep concern. Not understanding in the slightest why you feel such misery all of a sudden, your eyes slip down to the dreaded area where you take notice of how your dark coat appears to be torn in jagged slashes where the pain is coming from.

Your brows furrow as you slowly remove your tied overcoat, Geralt’s big golden irises studying your every move for what the problem may be. Your hands make quick work of the lacing, now your arms move as you remove the jacket, you gasp in fear once it falls to the ground.

“Y/N.” Whispers Geralt in the softest of voices as a lone tear slides down your cheek.

Slowly you raise your weary head to meet is saddened gaze, “I’ve been bitten.” You rasp, lifting your bloody hand up into the silky moonlight, the burning ache of your wound making itself more present then ever.

Suddenly a surging spike of white hot torment angrily tears up into your side once more, though this time it’s too overwhelmingly excruciating that you fall to your knees, desperately grasping your wounded side when Geralt takes quick steps forward. Pulling you into his strong arms before you’re able to even hit the cold earth completely, his eyes never leaving your distressed face.

“Y/N look at me love, I’m right here...” He speaks gently while holding you close, though you can’t look at him, “don’t be afraid I’ve got you.”

More fearful tears fall freely now as you press your face into his shoulder, a numb and dark feeling finding it’s way into your soul while your arms wrap themselves around his waist, “No, not this.” You cry, shaking with fright, “This cannot be, I-I cannot be a wolf beast....I won’t ever harm anyone Geralt I swear to you on my life, I would never! I-I could never, it isn’t in me!” 

“Oh Y/N, my dear Y/N..” His voice surprises you with how uncharacteristically tender it sounds, “Look at me love.” He pleads calmly, pulling you from his shoulder so that you may look into his kind-hearted gaze, “Do you think now, that I would dare lay my blade against your precious skin?” Your lip quivers as your watery eyes slip from his to the werewolf laying dead near the two of you.

“I am one of them now Geralt. How can I live as this now, I am not a monster. I can’t hurt innocent people, I can’t.” You exclaim, your voice breaking as you speak, “All the years we have been together have been the happiest of my entire life, know this Geralt. You bring me so much joy and light that I never imagined I could ever feel, you have given me your heart even when you first claimed you could not love. I will never forget that.” His heart breaks in two at your truthful words of honesty paired with how somber and dismal you appear.

Not being able to stand you looking away from him for much longer, he carefully lifts a hand up to turn your face to his, leaving his palm on your cheek in a comforting manner, “Y/N my love, you will never be a monster in my eyes, not once not ever. I may be a Witcher, but you will not meet an untimely end due to this curse that has made it’s way into your vessel.” His eyes are soft and serene, full of absolute love and adoration for you.

Y/N he will not hurt you, but you cannot hurt others.

You sniffle, your voice thick as you speak, “I will not let others suffer a violent death because of me Geralt, it’s not in my blood.”

“You will not, there is always another way..”

“There is no other way!” You interrupt, sure of yourself that this new affliction will be your inevitable demise, “A werewolf cannot be broken of their curse once it is had, there are no known antidotes!”

“Y/N..”

“This bite cannot be undone Geralt.”

Eyes softening, he pulls you in closer to rest his head against your own, “My dear Y/N, your life means more to me then you know. I will find you the cure, I have seen a vial of it myself long ago when visiting an experienced alchemist who taught me many things about potion making. He will surly know how to rid this she-wolf within you, I am sure of it.”

Lifting your face away from his, you finally show him the tiniest of relieved smiles, your heart bursting with joy at this refreshing news, “You never fail to surprise me, even now. I trust you...I love you Geralt of Rivia with my entire being, every part of me from now until death. I guess this world has yet to bring me down.” 

Studying your newly determined expression, he grins with eyes full of love, “I do not doubt it my dear one.”

[shorkbrian]

Any chances you'll write for Levi again? It's his birthday so i was scrolling and saw your drabble for him.

I missed his birthday FRICK. Well, I have a song that makes me soft and is a vibe while reading this. https://open.spotify.com/track/68XhCrBajUR64h6wv4eYYW?si=M4wxQMwiRnqGrvn2uPlUqw 

and happy holidays to everyone lol

(Warnings - NSFW, no penetration, dubcon, gratuitous blowjob scene.

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He’s called for you again.

You fix a cup of tea, just how you know he prefers it, trying to hurry through the motions, pouring the boiling water, steeping the leaves, adding the slightest touch of honey.

When you reach his room, you’re glad you’ve brought the tea. Upon opening the door, you can see that tonight will be rough, full of jealousy and unintended pain.

Levi has thrown things to the floor in anger, books, candles, paper and pen.  He hardly ever leaves a mess, is meticulous about cleaning them up as soon as he makes them. It’s unlike his normal demeanor to be so disorderly.

The man is slouched in a chair by the wall, barely raises his head when you enter. He twitches despite the care you take in shutting the door, trying your best to close it quietly.

“Captain Levi? Sir?” You held in your gasp as he lifted his head. The captain looked awful - dark circles hung under his eyes, his posture was hunched and tired, and worst of all, his eyes were red and puffy, as if he’d been crying.

Captain Levi hardly ever cried.

“(Y/N), go sit on the bed.”

Without a word, you did as you were told, placing his cup of tea on the nightstand as you sat. Levi slowly stood, straightening his back out as he did.

“I’m....” He trailed off, stepping towards the bed. His eyes were kept downcast, unable to meet your questioning gaze.

You were aware that something had probably happened on today’s push beyond the wall. Less than half of the group that had gone over had come back, Erwin and Levi grim-faced at the head of the group. Too many deaths.

“Captain… tell me-tell me how to help?” You were used to it by now, pushing aside discomfort and embarrassment to cater to your captain.

He was a harsh man, face always lowered into a disinterested scowl, not hesitant to snap at anyone who irked him or raised his ire. He made crude jokes when he was in a good mood, swearing and letting a cruel smile cross his lips.

The man had a reputation - intimidating, rigid, competent and unwavering. But with you, the menacing Captain Levi was… different.

You weren’t sure when it had started.

All you had wanted to do was provide a small bit of comfort on what had seemed to be an awful day for the Captain, much like today. He had stormed through the mess hall, ignoring the cadets shrinking away at his prescence to march straight to the kitchen. Only higher ranking members could enter the kitchens, other than staff, so it wasn’t busy.

He had grabbed a plate from the cleaned rack of dishes, dished out food, then swiftly headed for the kitchen door again, only to snap at the first staff that got in his way; you.

Feeling awful as he stormed past you, committing nothing more than the crime of standing in his way for more than a mere second, you had tried to make amends.

It was common knowledge that the Captain had an affinity for tea. A nice cup offered to the man would perhaps lift his mood. At the very least, it would soothe your conscious - you felt guilty for worsening his evening.

So that’s what you did.

He had let you in his room with a curt “come in”, and you quickly explained what the tea was for, quick to set it on the small table he was seated at before the Captain could snap at you to leave.

“Drink it if you find it satisfactory, if not, feel free to dump it out the window. Again, so sorry for disturbing you Captain, sir, but I hope your evening goes well.”

And then you had left.

And Levi’s curiosity was piqued. Who were you, to be so bold as to feel entitled to his time? A lowly kitchen staff?  You thought of yourself so highly, thought you knew him well enough to know how he took his tea? Pretentious.

But still, he found himself raising the cup to his lips, taking a sip, testing the taste. And admittedly, you didn’t know how he fixed his own tea. You had made it too sweet, with too much honey. The sweetness burned his tongue, scorched his throat far worse than hot water ever could.

He liked it.

Levi found himself seeking you out, finding out from the head cook who the kitchen staff were, who you were. When you worked, which barracks you stayed in, if you were always kind and sweet to rude people you didn’t even know.

You were surprised when the head cook had told you that Levi asked for more tea.

Of course, you brought it to him.

And at first, he never talked to you. He just watched you set down his tea, watched you give a small wave and a friendly, respectful curtsy before leaving.

Then he asked you to bring yourself a cup the next night, to sit with him.

Since it was Captain Levi, you couldn’t refuse.

Of course you were a bit intimidated - had you been doing something wrong? Was he going to fire you? But the man had said few words, just sipped his tea, watched as you blew at your own steaming cup.

It was an uncomfortable affair, at least for you, so it was surprising to you that he kept asking you to sit with him.

You start to see him often, more often than you previously had.  He lingers in the mess hall, taking meals at the high ranks tables, and you always feel his eyes on you when you bring out more food to place on the buffet-style tables at the front. You often found him heading for seconds when you were adding food to the table, and he often said hello in his gruff, curt way.

Captain Levi was seen patrolling the area near the staff barracks, checking windows, checking doors, making sure everything was proper and safe. You could feel his presence, see his shadow sometimes when he passed by the window.

Between mealtimes, when you weren’t washing dishes or helping to prepare for the next meal, you were allowed breaks. You spent these breaks reading, or taking short walks along the inside of the garrison walls. It spooked you when you began seeing Levi nearby, apparently deciding to train the cadets near your common reading spots, or sometimes appearing suddenly during one of your walks.

He’d walk with you, not uttering a word, just strolling beside you in silence. You didn’t try to speak - he didn’t seem to be looking for conversation, simply companionship. And his presence, while unsettling, wasn’t entirely unwelcome - you knew that Captain Levi was one of the most capable fighters in the Survey Corps, and no Titan nor human would be able to hurt you unless he allowed it.

Despite his bitter demeanor, it was easy to see how much Levi cared for his underlings well-being. Always trying to make sure they were safe, risking his own life for them, pushing them to the brink and beyond during training so he could ensure that they could defend themselves during an attack.

The awkward tea-time turned into small chats, were Levi asked you about your home, your hobbies, your likes and dislikes.

Surprisingly, Levi didn’t shy away from answering when you yourself asked the same questions.

You became privy to his rough upbringing, the tragedy of his mother, the few friends he had made and lost.

The more the two of you talked, the more you understood his rough exterior, why he was cynical and brusque and mean.

But he became softer with you.

You weren’t sure when comfortable companionship, tentative friendship, had turned into unpleasant touches, quiet confessions, time spent together that you began to loathe and tried to avoid.

But some part of you understood, and felt bad.

Levi had never known someone in an intimate sense. Not like this, not like you. He could force you to submit to him, it could be an ordeal of tears and blood and despair for both of you, but if you went along with his whims willingly, the both of you were spared the pain.

Yes, you experienced discomfort, and unease, and you weren’t entirely happy about some of the things Levi asked of you, but you knew the man was tired, and hurting, and desperate for soft words and kind touches.

The man had wanted simple favors at first. A touch here, a light brush of his hand on your shoulder or a lingering caress of your hand if it rested on the table. Then it was sitting closer together, letting him brush your hair away from your face, his hand finding a home on the plush skin of your thigh as you two talked.

Then it was his late-night confessions, when he kept you past curfew, after the tea cups had long been dry. He told you how he wanted…. You. He wasn’t sure what it was that he needed, but it had to be from you.

He would take it, force it from you, whether it was sex or feelings or some twisted desire. He could, and both of you knew that he had the skills to completely subdue you.

But you caved immediately, feeling like a crumb of bread in the face of a raven.

Satisfied with your answer, the man had taken you that night, slowly peeled off your clothes and laid you on his bed like a lover. He had noticed your trembling, the tears clouding your vision, and he could tell this wasn’t something that you wanted to willingly give to him.

But he took anyway.

He had never allowed himself to be selfish, to want things for himself, to afford thinking thoughts of a loving partner, kindness and gentle treatment with his rude and brash personality.

Levi had made it good for you - he had bedded women before, to sate his physical desires when they so rarely arose. But with you, unlike those other women, he wanted you to stay in his life, be there for him when he craved the sweetness you provided in your tea, in your body, in you. He wanted you to be his constant, the person he could turn to, always.

And so you where.

You were when he pulled you into his quarters at odd hours, just to share heated kisses and let his hands wander across your flesh.

At times when he was frustrated, angry, and needed a rough fuck to find his calm again.

Whenever Levi needed to feel the heat of another’s body, to experience pleasure and love and feelings of warmth and desire, you were the person he turned to.

It’s why he turned to you now.

“I’d like to hold you.” It was more of a command, an order, than a question.

Shuffling on the bed, you scooted back so he could sit down, so he could gently push your shoulders so you fell back onto the pillows. The man crawled closer, flopping down beside you with a tired, wretched sigh, one that made your bones ache in sympathy.

You were so used to the Captain taking what he wanted, you didn’t even cringe when an arm was slung over your chest, grabbing you, pulling you close to him. He buried his face in your neck, throwing a leg over your hip and an arm over your waist, completely plastering himself to your side.

The sounds of your breathing filled the room - your uneasy, disturbed rhythm accompanying his rapid, shuddering breaths.

It was only when wetness smear across your neck, did you realize that the man was crying.

You knew how that could feel, lungs burning, shoulders aching, heart squeezed and deadened in your chest. How you longed for comfort, for someone to hold you and soothe the pain.

So you tentatively drew your own hand around his slim shoulders, your other hand rising to play with a strand of thin hair, drawing him closer to you.

In some twisted, pathetic turn, you felt sorry for the man.

Sorry that he felt such pain, such anguish. Sorry that so much responsibility rested on his shoulders. The responsibility of keeping his soldiers alive, of protecting humanity, of fighting in life-or-death situations where he was forced to watch his comrades be torn to shreds. Sorry that he was stressed, that the world had beaten him down and never allowed him a quiet, easy life.

Most of all, you think you were sorry that he asked things of you that you weren’t comfortable in answering.

How do you tell a killing machine no? How does one go about turning away a sad, lost soul looking for company and warmth? How would you live with yourself if you put your own comfort higher than a man who was so integral to the continuation of humanity’s existence?

You could deal with the gross feelings in order to be of service.

It always surprised you, how a man so interested in cleanliness could make you feel so dirty.

Considerable time passed before Levi’s shaky, silent sobs evolved into normal breathing. He had cried his tears, let his sadness overflow in the safety of your arms.

Now he was content to hold you, to grip your form with such intensity that you were sure you’d have bruises along your waist.

You feel asleep like that, his arms tight around you, trapping your body close to his, making you feel every rise and fall of his chest, every steady beat of his heart.

——-

You woke up to movement.

It was still night, it must be, with the lit candles still burning at the bedside.

Levi was slowly grinding against you, his leg still slung over your hip, hard length rubbing against your stomach. You could feel a tiny hint of wetness seeping through your shirt, meaning Levi must’ve been at this a while to have leaked enough to soak through not only his own pants, but your shirt as well.

“(Y/N)…” He breathed, noticing you had stirred awake. A breathy sigh escaped the man, before his hips stopped moving. “Suck me off.”

Still half-asleep and blinking your eyes, you only managed to look at your captain, dazed.

A slow smile spread across his face as he took in your sleepy expression, but then he nudged your side again, insistent. “Suck me off, you got me all hard and now I’ve ruined my pants.”

As if it were fault that he was like this.

Finally registering his request, you moved down the bed to the man’s crotch, helping him shimmy off his sleep pants and underwear as you did so.

His cock wasn’t girthy, nor particularly long. It was pretty though, with a flushed tip, a pale base, and fat, firm balls underneath.

Without further ado, you set your mouth on him, gathering spit to slicken his length (not that you needed to, not with how much the man had leaked) before slowly making your way down. Drawing back a bit, you sucked at the crown,  cringing a bit at how Levi’s entire cock twitched, the man drawing in a sharp inhale.

He was particularly sensitive there, just under the head, so you flicked your tongue against that spot a few times, heard him hiss in pleasure, before slurping back down along his length, taking him as far down your throat as you could manage.

Levi couldn’t help the rocking of his hips, the twitches of his cock. “Touch my balls (Y/N), please.”

You were surprised to hear him say please. He only offered such niceties when he was in a vulnerable, soft mood.  His balls were plump, round, full to bursting with sperm. The skin was velvety soft as your rubbed at it, massaging the mounds with your palms, before rubbing over them quickly with the tips of your fingers.

Levi groaned, a hand clutching at the strands of your hair to anchor himself.

It was an uncomfortable feeling. You never liked when he touched you, and you never enjoyed touching him, but you bore it with no complaint, let him do as he pleased without a fight. Submission was easier.

His cock kept pulsing in your mouth, making you gag and choke around his length, which only seemed to draw him more pleasure. Despite the discomfort, you still did your best, hollowing your cheeks out to suck, hard.

Levi’s hips bucked up unexpectedly, hitting the back of your throat so quickly that you almost threw up with the intensity, immediately pulling off of his length with a hacking cough.

You let it rest against your cheek as you regained your breath, feeling it drool and twitch as if it were alive and hungry.

Levi let you rest; he knew you’d take him back into your mouth in a second, always eager to obey him.

And you did, sucking him with renewed vigor. The taste of his cock wasn’t entirely unpleasant, Levi kept himself clean and trimmed, so there was only the slightest hint of natural musk, but that was easily overwhelmed by the bitter taste of soap and the salty taste of sweat and skin.

Then Levi tugged your hair a bit, drawing your attention away from his cock and up to his face. “Slow down, I don’t want to cum too soon.”

He was in the mood to draw this out it seemed. You eased up on the suction of your cheeks, letting your cheeks go with a smacking sound. Apparently that felt good, since Levi sighed, rolling his head back to rest on the pillows.

The picture of relaxed pleasure.

Going slower now, you paused to let his length slip out of your mouth, giving the sides long, sensual licks, digging your tongue into the slit at the top.

You’d suck him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length, before popping off again, this time going for his well-groomed balls, slathering them with spit as you lapped at the skin.

Eventually, you grew tired, your jaw sore. It’s not like you wanted to do this in the first place, but now you were physically feeling ache-y.

Taking him into your mouth one last time, you dug deep, sucking vigorously at his length, drawing him down your throat, trying to get him to the edge as quick as you could.

And it worked, because the next thing you knew, a spurt of cum hit your tongue.

With a gag at the taste, you whipped your head back, Levi’s cock falling out of your mouth. But with his grip still in your hair, he kept your head close, watching his cum stripe across your face with satisfaction.

Levi was breathing heavily, almost panting as he finished, and you were glad you had closed your eyes - you didn’t want to see the look on his face, eyes filled with an emotion you didn’t want to label.

At least he was kind afterwards, helped you clean it up.

His tea was still sitting on the nightstand, long gone cold. Levi offered you a sip still, and you readily accepted the liquid, soothing your throat

When you settled down again, face now washed and free of cum, Levi once again pulled you close to him. This time, his chin rested atop your head, his hands cradling your head to his chest.

You felt gentle vibrations as he hummed softly, and you internally thanked him for small mercies - not having you strip tonight, not fucking you, not making you feel good.

There was such guilt when he pleasured you. How could something unwanted feel so good? There must be something wrong with you, to get off on his ministrations.

It was easier for you to not dwell on those feelings.

Easier to just lay in Levi’s arms, and listen to the beat of his heart.