#i knew they’d deliver

[sluttywonwoo]

(g)-idle eyes roll??? cunt!

[rebelfell]

special delivery

eddie munson x fem!reader

A quiet night at home turns into something else entirely when Eddie Munson shows up to deliver your pizza.

Isn’t this how all mediocre pornos great love stories start?

18+ MDNI┃8.1k

cw: light alcohol/weed use, discussions of poor sex-periences, bed sharing, down bad eddie, fingering/oral (fem receiving)

I edged myself a little with this, it’s like a 7:1 ratio of fluff to smut with nothing but tensionnn in between. Just how I like it.

You didn’t mind being alone. Not really.

Truth be told, you kind of preferred a nice quiet night to yourself every now and again. It gave you a chance to read without interruption; to watch a long stretch of episodes of your favorite show you had seen a hundred times before; to indulge in a lengthened version of your skincare routine.

But lately you’d been having a lot of quiet nights.

Winter had settled fully in Hawkins, the frigid weather and barrage of storms lately making it difficult to go out at night or do much of anything other than sit inside and count the walls. And with Robin gone for the whole weekend, the relentless silence of your apartment only made it worse.

You made an honest effort to remedy the situation—sending a handful of texts to anyone you thought might be available, only to come up empty. Nancy and Jonathan were out celebrating some anniversary. Steve had a date with whatever girl he had conned into thinking he was charming enough to go out with this week. And Chrissy was fully buried underneath her coursework, but she “could definitely do something next week!”

So that was that. You knew Argyle was working his usual shift, so you hadn’t bothered to text him. Instead, dialing the number for Surfer Boy as you resolved to drown your sorrows in a pizza loaded with all the toppings Robin always gagged at whenever you suggested them.

It was impossible for you not to beam when the man himself answered, the roughness in his voice indicating he was currently surrounded by a fresh cloud of his beloved Purple Palm Tree Delight.

He was now managing the franchise’s first and only midwest location they decided to open after the California chain started recording a deluge of calls from Indiana and assumed it must be some sort of untapped market. Come to find out, the people in Hawkins were just calling the number on the side of Argyle’s bright yellow van they’d seen riding around town.

“That’s all?” he chortled at your order. “One small pizza? Are you and Buckley planning some kinda Battle Royale fight to the death or something?”

“She’s gone for the weekend,” you explained.

“Oh, really? All by your lonesome then, are you?”

His typically gravelly tone was tinged with a hint of mischief, but you didn’t pay it much mind. This was Argyle, after all. You knew him well enough by now not to try and decode anything that went on inside that wonderfully weird head of his.

“Well, with you at work there’s no one to keep me company, is there?” you teased, putting on a flirty affectation you just knew would make him blush.

“Baby doll, I’ll close up shop right now!”

His deep and throaty laugh made you giggle along with him as he relayed your order to the kitchen staff and then came back on the line to assure you that it would be there “lemony split.”

With dinner ordered, you started to assemble some essentials for your wild night on the sofa— oversized blanket, extra snacks, a small arsenal of face masks and serums. You even splurged a bit and lit one of your nicer candles, the fresh scent of bergamot filling up your living room as you headed into the kitchen to clean up.

About half-way through you doing your dishes came the soft tread of footsteps on the stairwell outside, followed by a bouncy and rhythmic knock being rapped on your front door.

“One sec,” you called out, shaking the remnants of soapy water from your hands and drying them on the thighs of your sweatpants.

Your hand closed around the door knob and you yanked it open only to be bombarded by a head of dark, wild curls and a pair of deep brown eyes that instantly made your mind go blank.

“What are you doing here?”

The words just burst out of you, sounding far harsher than you intended, and Eddie Munson’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk as he looked you up and down.

“Nice to see you, too,” he chortled. “That how you greet everyone who brings you your dinner?”

Your gaze fell to the pizza box he held in his hands that you had missed entirely, too distracted by his eyes and his nose and his lips and those cute little dimples in his cheeks. Not to mention his stupid big hands with his stupid long fingers that were wrapped around your dinner…

“Sorry,” you said, squishing your eyes shut and shaking your head as though it would wipe away your lustful thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “I just wasn’t expecting you. Or, um…I meant, I didn’t know you worked at Surfer Boy.”

“It’s a new gig,” Eddie said, his smile filled with as much wily charm as ever as he handed over the box. “Argyle convinced me to come on board. Decent hours and the money’s good.”

“Oh…sweet.” 

You nodded back at him and prayed you didn’t sound half as awkward as you felt. With one hand, you balanced the pizza box on your hip while the other reached for the cash you’d set out earlier on the little table by your door. But a frown covered your face as you glanced between the bills and the box you were holding that looked quite a bit bigger than it should have been.

“Something wrong?” Eddie asked. “Aw, shit—we didn’t fuck up the toppings, did we?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you assured. “It’s just, I only ordered a small and this one’s a large.”

“Oh, yeah. Arg had them change it after he rang it in. He just wanted you to have some extra.”

You chuckled, “Really? I don’t know why, it’s just me tonight.”

“No Buckley?”

Eddie’s brows raised slightly, disappearing behind his twisty bangs as he looked past you inside your apartment. You swayed slightly, in an attempt to block his view of the little couch nest you’d built for yourself. His gaze returned to yours, eyes flickering with something like intrigue.

“You’re flying solo, then?” he asked.

“Pretty much. I mean, I called around a bit and everyone was busy. So…yeah.”

He tilted his head at you. “You didn’t call me.”

“Oh…”

Eddie’s lips quirked in a smile that actually made your breath catch. He didn’t sound offended, not like he was accusing you of anything. But his soft voice and the feigned (it was feigned, wasn’t it?) look of disappointment on his face made your chest radiate with warmth.

The truth was, you would have loved to call Eddie. You had actually hovered over his contact info in your phone more times than you cared to admit, only to keep chickening out at the last second.

“W-well, you’re working tonight,” you reasoned. “So, we couldn’t have hung out anyway.”

“Actually… Argyle cut me early,” Eddie said. “Turned out to be a slower night than he thought, so he said I could call it quits after this delivery.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Well, do you…” You swallowed hard, trying to bring some relief to your throat that had run dry. “I mean, did you wanna have dinner? Apparently, I’ve got plenty of food.”

Another weak chuckle trickled out of you as you held up the pizza box, telling yourself it must be the heat of the pie within making your palms sweat the way they were. Eddie’s dark eyes actually danced under the harsh fluorescent lights of your building’s breeze-through.

“That’d be great,” he said, flashing you a smile that made your knees wobble. “Wayne’s gone this weekend too. Trailer’s kind of lonely without him.”

“Okay! Uh, come on in.”

The sudden shrillness of your voice made you cringe inwardly as you stepped sideways for him to pass, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or at least he acted like he didn’t. He simply smiled as he came inside, pausing to toe off his boots and shuck off his leather jacket at the door.

He’d clearly dressed for the heat of Surfer Boy’s kitchen and not the bitter wind howling outside, clad only in a red and black flannel over a gray tank that seemed to cling to his lean frame as if by static electricity alone. His ratty black jeans taunted you with flashes of pale skin peeking through the holes in the knees and the smell of oregano filled your nose as he fluffed up his hair.

He looked a lot better than you did—particularly when you were in your lounge clothes, which weren’t exactly fetching.

Baggy and oversized, worn threadbare in more than a few places from multiple wears. Splattered with a myriad of tiny mystery stains no amount of washing could get out.

Nothing to be done about it now, you supposed.

Eddie had been to your place plenty of times for parties and movie nights, but that had always been with other people around.

Never just you. Never the two of you alone.

That realization and the nerves it induced made the back of your neck unbearably hot as you set the pizza on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins—all of the dignified and civilized things you’d have to use now that you had an audience.

And alcohol. Definitely, definitely needed alcohol if you were gonna even attempt to be normal.

“You want a beer?” you asked from the fridge.

Eddie nodded as he followed into the kitchen and leaned against the cabinetry. His totally calm and casual demeanor only made you more anxious, your chest getting tight and your hands shaking as you pried the caps off two beers. You clinked your bottle against his and took a long draught, heart racing as you stared at the ceiling.

Chill the fuck out, you scolded yourself. He’s just a guy. It’s just pizza. It’s no big deal, it’s no—

“You okay?” Eddie asked, making your runaway train of thought come to a screeching halt.

“Yeah, totally,” you lied through your teeth. “Um… I guess I was fully in hermit mode already. I really didn’t expect to see anyone tonight.”

Let alone you, you finished internally.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie said. “I didn’t mean to, like, crash your whole evening.”

“No, no—it’s not like that at all,” you stammered, the words tumbling out of you in a rush. “I’m glad you’re here, really. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah? Okay, good.” He smiled into another sip of his beer. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Your lips spread into a smile that mirrored his and a sort of quiet warmth passed between you. You found yourself staring into his eyes, holding his gaze until it flickered down your body.

He studied you in that soul-plundering way of his that made you feel all light and tingly all over.

“Here, you should have this back,” he said all of a sudden, “I feel kind of weird keeping it.”

You looked down just as he tugged the money you’d paid him with out of his pocket. He held it out to you, only to find your hand already pushing it back, fingers briefly closing over his fist.

“Eddie, no. No way,” you scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you fixed him with a warning glare—a pretty withering one if you did say so yourself. One that made him nod reluctantly and sigh softly in defeat.

“Alright, at least let me contribute something,” he said, returning the cash to his pocket and instead producing a fat, pristinely rolled joint. Argyle’s handiwork, you were all but certain.

You grinned and clinked your bottle with his. 

“Done.”

Beers and plates and joint in hand, you and Eddie headed over to the sofa only for you to stop short when you remembered your former plans for the evening. He watched curiously as you cleared the table, your stomach even more unruly now with half a beer sloshing around inside of it.

”What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the various packets and bottles. You laughed nervously.

“It’s just skin stuff. I was gonna do a face mask while I watched a movie…because that’s just the rock and roll kinda lifestyle I lead.”

Your jittery attempt at a joke only made Eddie’s own smile widen as he plucked one of the packets from your grasp and held it up to read the label.

“Can I do one?” he asked.

You choked back another laugh, brow arching at him in disbelief. “Do you want to?”

“Kind of, yeah,” he chortled. “They look kinda like potions or something. Seems like fun.”

You rolled your shoulder in a shrug. “Then knock yourself out,” you said. 

And he did.

Eddie plopped himself down at one end of the sofa and ripped into the package he’d selected. It was branded as a “unicorn” mask, which really just meant it was made out of shiny, holographic paper that shone with rainbows when the light hit it. He admired the swirling colors briefly and then set about laying the mask over his face, his head suddenly turning to catch you staring.

“Am I beautiful yet?” he asked, playfully fluttering his long lashes at you.

You already were.

The thought popped into your head so quickly you almost said it out loud and you had to bite back the comment, your pulse starting to race all over again. You pressed your lips together as you nodded and focused all your attention on placing a pair of gel patches under your own eyes.

Eddie watched you tap them into place, smiling. “You do this a lot?” he asked.

“Every couple weeks or so. More often in the winter because the cold really fucks with my skin. Obviously.” You gestured at your face and sighed.

“I never noticed,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Always looks nice to me.”

The compliment made your face burn in spite of the cooling aloe patches and you shook your head, the tingling in your cheeks only increasing the longer his eyes lingered on you. With shaky hands, you reached for the remote and started flipping through the channels while Eddie dug into the pizza. The both of you hummed excitedly in unison as you landed on an old horror flick just as the opening credits had started to roll, the decision of what to watch made easy.

As you set the remote down and reached for your own slices, realizing Eddie had plated up two and placed them down in front of you, you couldn’t stop your eyes from dating sideways to look at him once more. But the moment you did, a loud laugh burst out and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to try and stifle it—failing miserably.

He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, the pink muscle wiggling wildly as he tried to guide the end of his pizza into his mouth through the too-small opening of his mask.

“Hang on, hang on,” you said, taking some mercy on him. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, “I’m doing great over here.”

It only made you laugh harder watching Eddie as he kept trying to eat, now clumsily flicking out his tongue like a drunken chameleon and grimacing when he tasted some of the product on his mask.

He stilled, though, as you scooted onto the center cushion and began to further tear the slits around his mouth, your fingers trembling as they brushed the corners of his plush lips.

Too late, you realized how close your face had gotten to his. Your eyes nearly crossed you were staring at him so hard, trapped in his hypnotic gaze as his enormous eyes locked on yours. The deep brown, almost black, of them only looked more otherworldly like this, surrounded by swirls of silver and rainbows like he was some kind of alien or android. Blinking dumbly, as if coming out of a trance, you pulled your hands away.

“Um…better?” you asked, eyes darting away from his face and almost instantly returning.

Eddie tested how far he could unhinge his jaw, stretching his mouth open as far as he could, unencumbered by the chin portion of his mask. He brought his slice up to take a massive bite.

“Perfect,” he said, grinning widely through a mouthful of cheese and sauce.

You actually did manage to relax at least slightly the longer the night wore on, helped immensely by the joint Eddie lit and offered to you to take the first hit. It passed leisurely between you, each of your inhales making it easier to deal with the idea that your lips were basically touching his.

Another movie started up after the one you first put on finished, but you made no move towards the remote. Your body felt warm and relaxed from the high, limbs melding into the sofa cushions like you were becoming part of them.

And Eddie too seemed perfectly happy to spend his night exactly where he was. His unicorn mask sat discarded on top of his pizza crusts and he’d shifted down in his seat, knees spreading wide and filling your mind with…thoughts.

You kept expecting him to make some excuse to leave, freaked out that he’d caught you looking at him just a few too many times for comfort.

But he never did.

“I think this is the last of it,” Eddie said, staring at the tiny smoldering nub pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Take it, it’s yours,” you smiled, letting your head squish against the back of the couch. 

Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, now,” he grinned back at you. “Sharing is caring.”

He crooked his fingers, motioning for you to move in closer as he brought the joint up to his lips and steadily inhaled the last hit. He shifted onto the center cushion and you mirrored his movement, his knee bumping your calf lightly as you tucked your feet beneath you, toes wiggling nervously.

With his free hand, he gently cupped the side of your face and tilted your head to the side as his own lips parted and you leaned together. 

A stream of smoke poured out of him and you breathed it in, holding it in your chest for a few moments before you exhaled it back at him. He smiled as your breath fanned over his face, his dimples showing as his cheeks pushed up fully. The sight made your own smile spread, pulling your bottom lip back with your teeth as his thumb softly caressed your jaw.

His lips parted again, a whisper of your name falling off them, sounding like a foreign language. 

You inhaled deeply again, trying to steady your racing heart, your whole body suddenly tingling in a way that was distinctly different from the way it did from the high. It didn’t do any good, though, not when Eddie’s head lifted slightly and you swore his eyes started to close—

A loud BEEP made you jump away, the moment shattered by your phone getting a text.

You instantly felt the loss of Eddie’s hand where it had been holding you, cold now in spite of all the blood currently coursing beneath your skin. You turned and fumbled about for your phone as it beeped again, almost more insistently.

Eddie retreated to his end of the sofa and you gave your head another forcible shake, trying to rid yourself of the shivers running rampant over your body. Whatever you imagined was just about to happen was surely not going to—the weed had to have your mind playing tricks on you.

“Ugh.”

The sound popped out unconsciously, irritation flaring just at the sight of the name attached to the message and making you recoil before you even opened it to see what it said.

“Jeez,” Eddie smirked at your distasteful noise, giving you a sly look. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just some guy I went out with a few times.”

Eddie sputtered slightly on the sip of beer he’d just taken, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks and his eyes rounding slightly as he wiped his palm on the thigh of his jeans.

“Oh. Do I, um…do I need to, like, make myself scarce or something?”

A bitter laugh burst out at the implication and you started to shake your head a little too hard. “Ahh, no,” you told him flatly, “Not at all.”

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed, his smile returning, seeming almost a little pleased to hear that.

“How come?” he asked with a teasing smile, nodding at the rest of your skincare on the table. “You don’t wanna get him over here? Get him all nice and moisturized?”

“I’m good,” you assured, clicking off your phone and silencing it before laying it face down on the table. “Not exactly in the mood to beg someone to go down on me tonight, so—”

��Beg?” Eddie scoffed, taking another swig of his beer. “Who has to be begged to do that?”

Your gaze darted sideways, eyeing him curiously. 

“Uhh…all of them? In my experience, most guys aren’t all that into it. You know?”

“No, not really,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I fuckin’ love it.”

Your own drink stopped half-way to your lips and you chanced another glance at him. Your voice went quiet. Meeker than you would have liked. Lacking all the frankness with which he spoke.

“You…you do?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. “I mean, making a girl come on your tongue is like…”

He trailed off into silence, looking up at the ceiling as he searched for the right word, but you’d jumped back in before he could find it.

“You make them come? Just…just from that?”

“Ahh…” Eddie faltered now, staring at his lap and picking at the label on his beer with his thumb nail. “Not always. It depends on the girl. But, I dunno…maybe, like, ninety percent of the time?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, eyes rounding with embarrassment when you realized you said it out loud. Beside you, Eddie shifted in his seat on the couch, turning himself towards you.

“Do you not come when they go down on you?”

You blinked back at him, almost too stunned to speak. “Well…no. They aren’t usually down there that long. I mostly just need it because the spit helps when I’m not wet.”

Holy shit. That weed must have been way stronger than you realized for these words to be spilling out of you like they were. Cheeks officially a raging inferno, you focused every speck of your attention on the movie flickering on the TV.

Eddie’s eyes never left your face, though. His expression only softened as he stared at you, his words coming out in a hushed whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Your face only burned hotter from the way he said it. It’s not exactly pity in his tone, or filling his eyes, it’s more like…disappointment.

Disappointment in who, you weren’t entirely sure. And you sure as shit weren’t going to let this go on long enough to find out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how we got on this,” you said. “This is way too much information for you.”

“No, no, that’s not what I—”

Eddie’s hand started to reach out for you, but you were already on your feet. 

Scrambling to gather up your soiled plates and desperate to look anywhere besides at him, you hurried into the kitchen to start cleaning up. The weed in your system was starting to turn on you, making your mind run rampant with competing thoughts, the most persistent of them being an echo of Eddie’s voice, hearing the same four words over and over and over again.

I fuckin’ love it.

Just the memory of him saying them made your stomach swoop and your core flutter, your hands shaking as you reached to turn on the tap.

“Can I just ask you one more thing?”

Eddie’s voice behind you made your shoulders tense, but you forced them to remain still—trying to look relaxed. The plates in your hands clinked against the sink basin as you set them down and turned slowly, resting your butt on the edge of the counter as you nodded at him.

He moved forward tentatively, setting down the beer bottles he’d brought from the living room.

“Do you like going down on guys?”

Your mouth fell open at the question and you had to quickly snap it shut. “Um…yeah,” you said after clearing your throat. “I like it fine.”

Truth be told…you really did like it. And with the right partner, you kind of loved it.

There was a kind of satisfaction you got watching even the most confident and charismatic guys be reduced to a simpering pile of putty as soon as your mouth came anywhere near their cock.

It was an intoxicating sort of power you felt when you drew the most desperate and eager sounds out of them—like when a guy slid into your mouth for the first time and just groaned in relief, like he had never felt anything as good as you in his life.

“Okay, then,” Eddie grinned, his eyes flickering as he watched your face. “So the person you’re with should like it too, right? He shouldn’t do it just because he has to. He should do it because he wants to make you feel good. The same way you want him to feel good.”

He took slow, careful steps forward as he spoke, the distance between you getting smaller with each. You felt your chest start to heave, trying to keep the furious pounding of your heart under control as Eddie’s body drew nearer.

He came to a stop in front of you, brown eyes trained on the space between your nose and chin. He licked his lips, running the flat of his tongue over the bottom one like he was imagining it was your own. Saliva flooded your mouth and you swallowed it down, lips trembling as they parted.

You thought you might be sick with anticipation, waiting for the touch of his mouth on yours. Because he was gonna kiss you, right? 

God, did you want him to kiss you…

Your grasp curled under the lip of the counter, nails digging into the wood beneath the laminate. Eddie’s eyes broke from yours, flitting down to see your hands clenched, like you were trying to rip off a chunk of it. His brow furrowed slightly and he took a step back, the absolute deflation you felt as he stepped away making your whole body slump as the tension flooded out of it.

It was so overwhelming, you had to look away, eyes landing on the clock over the stove.

“Oh, shit!” you gasped, making Eddie’s head jump back up. “Is it really that late?”

Midnight had come and gone according to the glowing green numbers without you so much as noticing. Eddie swallowed hard, his mouth falling open like he wanted to say something else, but no words came out. Instead, he busied himself with getting the emptied bottles he’d set down and tossing them in the recycling bin.

“I, um…I should get out of your hair,” he sighed, ringed hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You weren’t totally sure what possessed you to say what you did next. Something about the sight of his frowning face, the corners of his lips turned down in confusion or even disappointment, it was hard to say which. All you could think was that you didn’t want him to leave.

“You don’t have to,” you said suddenly.

Eddie’s stopped short and his spine straightened, his head turning slowly towards you like he wasn’t convinced he really just heard those words come out of your mouth. You shot him a small smile. 

“You can stay over…if you want.”

He stared back at you, doe eyes blinking at you in surprise. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying not to sound like your vocal chords were in a vice. “The roads are shit and it’s late. I mean…it’s only if you want. You certainly don’t have to—”

“No, no, no, that-that would be great, actually,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. He took a steadying breath and smiled as his eyes met yours again. “I’d really like that.”

With the sort of energy that would make a hummingbird jealous, you bustled around the apartment gathering a spare pillow and an extra blanket for Eddie while he brushed his teeth in the bathroom. You carried them over to the couch, hugging the linens tight to your chest. 

You thought about how they might smell like him in the morning. How he might wake up with his hair all big and messy from sleep, his eyes half-lidded with crust in the corners, his boxers slung low on his narrow hips, the small trail of hair that swirled just below his navel on display—

“Thanks,” Eddie said, making you jump when you realized he was behind you. 

Your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums as you turned around and held the linens out to him. His fingers met yours among the folds and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the contact.

“N-no problem,” you said, averting your gaze again as you headed down the short hallway.

You hovered at your bedroom door, glancing back over your shoulder at Eddie as he flicked off all of the lights except the one on the end table, peeling away his flannel to reveal his sinewy arms littered with tattoos. The sight made your cheeks pulse in time with your heartbeat. Among other things.

“Good night,” you said. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he stared at you for a brief moment, his eyes running up and down your body, his bottom lip between his teeth like he was deep in thought about something.

“Good night,” he said finally. “Sleep tight.”

In bed, sleep evaded you. 

You lay there, splayed wide in the center of your mattress, arms and legs stretched out across the rumpled sheets you’d gotten yourself twisted up in too many times to count as you’d turned over and over and over and over, searching for a comfortable position. Finding none.

Any attempt at settling down for the night was impossible when you couldn’t shake this…this… incessant, obstinate, unrelenting need calling out for satisfaction. It was like your body could sense that Eddie was in the next room and was refusing sleep in favor of filling your mind with thoughts of what could happen, of what he might be doing, if you just went out there and went for it.

What if you did? Just strode down the hall and climbed on top of him in the dark? Whipped off your sleep shirt to bare yourself and let his hands and lips roam freely all over you? You could just about feel the cold bite of his rings on your skin, you were thinking about it so much.

The conversation you’d had earlier kept running through your head, his words still echoing in your mind and making you throb everywhere. 

I fuckin’ love it, he’d said. Blatantly. Plainly. Like it should be obvious. But you’d never heard anyone express that kind of affinity for eating a girl out.

The majority of the guys you’d been with, those who had been willing to do it at all, only seemed to be doing so under duress or out of obligation. Or worse, they spent the exact bare minimum amount of time down there in order to get you going, only to stop short, and wasted no time redirecting the focus to their pleasure.

Then, of course, they had all the time in the world.

It was hard to say why, but there was something about Eddie wanting to do it—even being eager to do so, that only made him hotter.

You huffed loudly and pushed the heels of your hands against your eyes, forfeiting the staring contest you were locked in with your ceiling.

This was so stupid. You were getting yourself all worked up, and over what? Eddie was most likely balls deep in a REM cycle by now, and if you went out there and made some kind of ill-conceived “move” on him there was absolutely, positively, no chance in hell he would ever—

Knock knock knock

The gentle raps on your door made you bolt upright in bed. They were so quiet, you thought maybe you might have dreamed them, painfully awake as you were. But then they sounded again, this time accompanied by Eddie’s hushed voice tentatively calling out your name.

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes zeroed in on your door knob, waiting with bated breath for it to turn, but Eddie spoke again before he dared to even touch it.

“Hey, um…can I come in?” he asked.

You tugged your sheets upwards, covering your exposed thighs as you inhaled a deep bracing breath. “S-sure,” you said, still despising the nervous way your voice wavered.

The door finally cracked open and Eddie poked his head in. A little sliver of light from the hallway illuminated your room and you could see his curls were now tied up in a bun, sitting low on his neck with a few short tendrils framing his face. It made it so that you could actually see his ears and you realized for the first time they were kind of cute. 

How the fuck could ears be so cute?

“Sorry to bug you,” he whispered. “But do you have an extra blanket or something? It’s, um…it's kind of cold out there.”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed in realization. “It’s probably the windows. One of them doesn’t close right. Uh, yeah, just let me—”

You started to climb out of the bed, only to freeze as your foot hovered over the rug. The big shirt you had worn to sleep in was long, but not that long. The hem of it barely skimmed the bottom of your ass and if you stood up, you would basically be flashing Eddie your underwear.

Maybe it was okay? It would only be for a second. And it was mostly dark, maybe he wouldn’t even notice? Or maybe you didn’t need to get out of bed at all…

“You know, um…” You licked your lips, daring yourself to look back up at Eddie. “You could just sleep in here. If you want.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered at that, dark brown irises black in the low light, filling with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it apprehension? Surprise? Excitement?

“You sure?” he asked, his voice still hushed.

You swallowed hard as you drew your leg back underneath the warmth of the blanket, nodding at him to confirm, your teeth gnawing at the fleshy insides of your cheek as you did.

He entered the room fully, revealing how he’d stripped down to nothing but his tank top and a pair of blue checkered boxers. As he pushed the door closed behind him and crossed over to the opposite side of your bed, your heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. 

Your eyes briefly darted downwards only for you to avert them just as quickly—telling yourself it must be the dark playing tricks on you, making you think you saw his boxers were half-tented.

The mattress dipped as he settled into the bed with you and you felt a rush of heat that came off his body like a furnace as you both scooted down to lay flat. Your body was rigid as you resumed your staring contest with the ceiling, thundering heartbeat only picking up more speed when Eddie rolled over onto his side to look at you.

“Can you not sleep?” he asked, his voice coming out in a gentle rasp.

Your hair rustled against your pillow as you shook your head. “No. You?”

“Nope. I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You inhaled sharply, certain he had to be able to see the effect he had on you even in near pitch darkness. But was it really your imagination that you seemed to have a similar effect on him?

“Yeah?” you whispered.

Eddie nodded, his eyes dropping to your mouth, the tip of his tongue swiping across his bottom lip to wet it as he spoke.

“I was wondering if I could…if you’d like me to—”

“Yes.”

The word all but flew out of you, filled with heat and need. And no sooner had you uttered it was he rolling on top of you, his body pressing against yours, his rapidly firming length prodding your heat through your panties. His lips descended on to yours, making every part of you heave in response to his touch. He actually moaned into your kiss, both your lips and his vibrating with the sound. Every part of him moved with yours in perfect harmony, every curve and bulge of his body finding a home against your own.

It’s like you’re warm bread and he’s the butter, spreading smoothly across you and melting into your every crease and crevice.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so long,” he panted out in between feverish kisses dotted along your neck, his teeth nipping at your racing pulse.

“Really?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his hands gliding over the length of your body. “I dreamed about touching you…how you’d sound…what you’d taste like…”

“Jesus Christ.”

You had never felt like this before, your very being thrumming with energy and ready to go off like a firecracker as soon as someone lit your match. You could have chalked it up to the weed, or to the beer, or to the fact that you hadn’t been touched like this in so long—and even when you had been touched, it was nothing like this.

But ultimately you knew…the real reason was him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his pink lips curled up in a catlike smile as he rolled his hips forward, pressing them against you in a filthy grind that had your back arching off the bed.

“Shit,” you gasped, breathless, “S-so good, Eddie—fuck.”

The way he was moving against you had your mind emptying rapidly. It was all you could do not to wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze him close to increase that sinful sweet pressure he was putting on your core. But Eddie was quick to give you more, pushing up on his hands so his hips married with yours and he could look down at the mess he was making of you.

“Eddie, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, voice all high and desperate. “I need it, please.”

His original offer had officially flown out of your head. All you could think about right now was him being fully seated inside of you, his cock stroking your walls, his thrusts reaching deep. He’d gotten you so wet just from kissing, him going down on you now was practically redundant.

“You want my cock already, huh?” he teased you lowly, leaning in close again, the tip of his nose touching yours. “Too bad.”

His gentle mocking tone and the way he purred so softly made every atom in your body tremble. You stared up at him with your hips squirming trying to chase the friction you so desperately needed as he started to shuffle further down the bed, making you whimper at the loss.

“What’s wrong?” he chuckled at your pitiful little sound. “You think I’m being mean?”

You nodded back at him and his giant eyes glinted in the dark, his handsome face full of mirth and mischief as his chest rumbled with a laugh. The sound of it rippled down your spine, making it go instantly rigid and then slackening like the crack of a whip. Oh, you were in trouble…

“Well, I am mean. And selfish too,” he gritted out, his fingers kneading at your waist, bunching the material of your t-shirt in his fists to pull it taught across your chest. “Because I’m gonna kiss this pussy all I want…all night long, if I feel like it.”

With his words dripping thick and sweet from his lips, he shifted even further down on the bed with a practiced swivel of his hips. He kissed his way down your body, pushing up the hem of your shirt to reveal the bare expanse of your stomach and hips, groaning again as he caught a glimpse of the underside of your breasts.

“I’ve…been waiting…way too long…to taste you…”

His voice slipped back into that lower register as he placed a line of delicate kisses to your navel in between his words. His head dropped lower, lower, lower until he met the apex of your spread thighs. A soft moan escaped your lips as he laved his tongue over your clothed slit, licking through the thin barrier until his spit had soaked through the cotton to mix with your arousal.

“Take them off,” you gasped, raising your hips to help him.

If he had decided to tear them, to rip them right from your body, you wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. But he curled his fingers around the elastic and dragged them down your legs, settling back on his calves to tug them off, the blunt edges of his fingernails raking lightly over your skin all the way to your ankles. It made gooseflesh bloom across every inch of you, all the way to your scalp as you pushed your head back into the pillow, so overwhelmed by the feeling.

He works infuriatingly slow. Teasing you, toying with you like it’s a big game. He kissed softly along your seam, nuzzling his face against your inner thighs, skimming his lips over your folds that are doused with your slick, not even bringing his tongue into play yet. It makes your clit just ache for him, the little bundle of nerves yearning for the attention he just won't give it.

Not yet.

Finally, finally, he placed one long kiss on your sensitive bead, popping off far too soon for your liking to murmur softly to you in the dark.

“Can’t believe you had to beg that loser to do this…I’d beg you just to let me do it…”

“Then do it, Eddie,” you groaned, bunching the sheets in your fists. “Please, please, just do it—”

You’re almost crying now you want him so badly, the anticipation making your chest tighten and your lungs constrict. All the amusement drains from Eddie’s face as he looks at you, doe eyes shining like they held every star in the galaxy as he studied your pained expression.

“Relax for me, baby,” Eddie soothed in a steady whisper, his palm rubbing across your stomach. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I promise.”

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you nodded back at him and then closed your eyes to take the deepest breath you could manage. He watched you silently, studying the way your chest rose as you inhaled, and the way you held the breath in for a five count before you released.

And just as your breath crested, just as you felt the relief of the oxygen flowing throug your body, he fixed his lips around your clit and sucked.

The noise that he dragged out of you didn’t even sound human. It was shock, it was calm, it was joy, it was confusion, it was elation, it was rage.

It was as though every emotion you’d ever felt in your whole life was thrown into a blender and that sound was the end result.

Your hips jumped, bucking into his face, but Eddie never faltered. He kept his hold on you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs to keep them spread open so he could continue to devour you. He didn’t just go down on you, his mouth and tongue and chin and nose moved together in any and every possible direction until you yourself had forgotten which way was up.

It made you doubt your very existence. No way was this real. No way could anything feel this fucking good. And yet at the same time, it was too real. The tickle of his hair on your inner thigh, his hot breath fanning over your most private skin, the noises he made muffled by your pussy lips. Every visceral detail swirled together, rushing you headlong towards oblivion.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Eddie said hoarsely. “Come on my tongue for me, beautiful. I gotta have it.”

He pulled his lips from you, his fingers plunging easily inside your gushing center, crooking up to rub that spot you only ever dreamed of someone reaching. As you clenched around his digits and he could feel how close you were, his tongue returned to your folds in long and languid swipes that ended in fluttering flicks and swirls.

He does everything so carefully, so thoroughly, that the brink he brings you to feels more earned than anything you’ve ever felt. Stars burst behind your rolled back eyes, tears squeezing out at the corners and spilling down your cheeks.

Your mouth fell open as you moaned in earnest abandon, chanting out his name in praise in between heaving breaths to gulp down air.

The aftershock seems to last longer than the orgasm itself, your legs twitching under Eddie’s firm grasp long after the explosive feeling had receded. He slid up to lay next to you, cradling you gently in his arms, out of breath himself as he watched you return to earth, his nose and mouth and chin all glistening with your spend.

“You okay?” he asked, hopeful and earnest, his cocky bravado long since dissolved.

“So good,” you gasped. “It was incredible, Eddie. Holy shit…”

His chest shook with a low laugh at your dazed expression. Your eyelids drooped, exhaustion trying to overtake you, but you forced it back. Suddenly filled with the urge to make him feel as good as you did, you let your hand drift toward his boxers, making his whole body shudder as your hand grazed across a damp spot there.

Wait…was that? No, not a chance. No way did he come just from eating you out.

“Easy, killer,” Eddie chuckled, reaching down for your wandering hand and lacing his fingers with yours to gently tug it back up and kiss it. “What do you want in there, huh?”

“Eddie, please,” you pouted up at him as your eyes fought to stay open. “I want more, I want to make you come too.”

“We will,” he assured you, his fingertips gently trailing across your forehead, down your temple, along your jaw. “Just close your eyes for a minute. Then we’ll do anything you want.”

The sigh you let out was a little huffy, but you couldn’t deny how appealing it sounded to rest your eyes—just for a minute. They start to flutter shut and the last thing you felt was Eddie’s warm breath on your ear as he leaned close to whisper,

“Good night, sweetheart.”

Sunlight came streaming through your blinds far too soon for your liking. Its warm rays splashed across your face as it rose in the sky and you withdrew reluctantly from your sleep.

A deep, blissful, fucked-out sleep like you hadn’t had in years.

Everything came into focus slowly as you woke.  The hum of the fan overhead pushing cool air down, the distant chirp of birds from the tree outside your window…the subtle weight of Eddie’s arm slung across your torso.

He was still asleep next to you, snoring softly with his face smashed into the lilacs printed on your pillowcase. You couldn’t be sure if he had fallen asleep holding you or if he reached for you at some point during the night and never let go.

Either option was equally enthralling.

His hair had come loose from his bun, curls now big and frizzy around his face like a lion’s mane. And even in sleep, there was a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. Contentedness, like he was in the middle of a really good dream. You even let yourself believe you saw the slight curve of a smile on his plush lips, one you were sure matched your own.

You reached out a hand and gently touched the fringe obscuring his large forehead, brushing them back to reveal the thickness of his eyebrows and the dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. Fuck him, if he wasn’t even prettier.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb his slumber, you rolled over onto your side and reached for your phone on the nightstand, looking for the time and instead finding a text from Argyle.

hope u enjoyed ur special delivery ;)

Thank you for reading. love you, mean it! 🍕

This has been gathering dust in my drafts for a minute now.

Been feeling the lack of inspiration/motivation to write lately real hard, so it was nice to go back to something that I really enjoyed writing and had a lot of fun with.

[quirrrky]

—•✦ THE BOY IS MINE

OIKAWA, KUROO, BOKUTO showing you that he belongs to you and you to him

≡ NOTES ⋮ I'M BACCKKK! and I'm super excited, can;t wait to fangirl w/ y'all! I'm gonna cri 😭 I miss my boys sm T^T bokuto's made me giddy and kuroo's got me smiling like shit...don't get me started with oikawa!

OIKAWA

You were on the sidelines watching the man you adored so much being adored by so many other girls. No lies, some of them were prettier than you, you’d think. They could be a good match for your boyfriend.  

Still, you didn’t bother. Tooru always assured you of your worth and how perfect you were for him in every sense––the most beautiful in his eyes.  

Tooru delivered an impactful serve, and the crowd cheered including the other girls beside you. Even from afar, he sent you a smile with a matching flirty wink. The girls squealed with so much giddiness, probably thinking it was for them.

He cast another glance at you, which you returned primly.  

You were always his number one fan. You might not be on par with him when it came to Volleyball, but you didn’t mind being his cheerleader, his anchor and the source of his strength whenever he’d feel inadequate.  

You were secured and not moved by how many fangirls he had until now. The reporter pulled Tooru to the side together with a known female Volleyball player who’s around the same age as him.  

The two of them were the top players of their teams–the most competent. The reporter and everybody else simply admired seeing the both of them side by side.  

“Oh! They look so good together!” You heard those around you murmured.  

“Maybe they’re dating...” The others speculated. 

A bitter sting gnawed inside you. The image of Tooru happily playing Volleyball with a partner who could really challenge him head-to-head was making it difficult for you to breathe.  

You were lost in your thoughts when you suddenly felt a hand around your wrist, gently dragging you somewhere.  

T-Tooru?  

He brought you by his side and laced his arm firmly around you. 

“Practice and perseverance are totally the keys in winning but for me it’s not just that,” Tooru responded to the reporter. “We all need a lucky charm, I tell you.” He pulled you closer to him, shifting his gaze to lovingly study your face, saying, “And I got mine right here.”  

You blushed, feeling the heat crawling all over your face. The crowd squealed and hollered yet they didn’t matter in that moment.  

The reporter ended the interview with lighthearted teasing directed at you and Tooru, prompting the start of the last match.  

“How ‘bout a good luck kiss, huh?” He teased.  

“W-What’re y-” You weren’t even able to finish as he already placed a sweet peck on your lips. “Tooru!” You complained when he parted, and he replied by playfully sticking his tongue out.  

Your fingers travelled your lips. Perhaps, you’ve got nothing to worry about after all.  

KUROO

It’s a big day for you and your boyfriend. It would be the first time he’d be giving a welcome remarks to open his institution’s black-tie event. You were even proud to be the one who did his speech.  

As his extra special plus one, he never left your side with both of you just keeping things, hands to yourself, acting as a professional and sober couple. 

However, you were bothered to say the least. You always knew that you had a fine boyfriend. He looked straight out of a novel after all. Tall, handsome and with a good suit to complete the look.  

Tetsurou seemed like every billionaire bad boy in the books you’d encounter in bookstores’ new adult section. It’s no wonder that the girls in his company party all had their eyes on him like he’s a piece of hunky meat they’d jump on at any moment. 

Deep inside, you’d want to be swallowed by the universe below. You were never insecure about your looks, well, maybe sometimes you were like right now! Were you not even pretty enough for them to keep their attraction to themselves? Were you not playing the eye candy part so well?  

Do you even look good beside him? 

Black dress, pretty face and hypnotic smile all amplified by the sweet scent of honey—you’re Kuroo’s most prized possession, not that he treats you as an object. Well, yes, to put it simply you’re the object of his desires, adoration and affection.  

Wasn’t it obvious that you were with him? Yeah right, call him petty, but he couldn’t bear the eyes of these bastards on you.  

Hell, pretty was even an understatement when it came to you. As much as he wanted you to be revered for being the goddess that you are, he still couldn't accept all the gawking you’re receiving and him being disregarded like he wasn’t even there when he’s the boyfriend, the future husband and the forever person.  

He promised he’d behave himself and keep the PDA on low since today’s a formal event, but it looked like he won’t be keeping up with that anymore. 

Jolted, your shoulders rose as Tetsu slithered his arm around your waist. He tugged you closer to him so you were both attached to the hip. You just froze in surprise when he leaned, placed a kiss on your forearm and dropped another one on your shoulder.  

You felt the heat rushing to your face. Your eyes held his as they met. “What...what are you doing?” you whispered and he propped his chin on your shoulder.  

“Showing them who you belong to.” 

Internally, you’re partying. You’d be lying to say that you didn’t want that because you definitely want to show all these girls that Tetsu would only have his eyes on you. “Okay, just don’t overdo it.” 

A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Not very sure about that.” 

BOKUTO

At last, your fiancé, superstar athlete Bokuto Koutaro, will be arriving home tonight. It has been several months since he’s been away to train and to participate in the Olympics. Now, he’ll be coming home after playing with his utmost best.  

You were standing, waiting for him in anticipation at the airport. This was the moment you’d been waiting for and your face immediately lit up after seeing him walk from the arrivals. His eyes were still sleepy with his pillow still latched around his neck.  

In anticipation, you took a step forward approaching him, but the reporters and his fans beat you to it. Now, he’s swarmed with the crowd taking pictures and asking him questions. Some of them were even bumping into you and all you could do was watch. You were just a mere ordinary citizen, lurking in the shadows of those who admire him.  

You clutch on your chest. You were truly happy for him. Genuinely happy for the recognition he’s receiving. He deserved every bit of it, but...How you’d wish to be closer to him. Be the home he goes back to where he could be just Koutarou, the loving and silly boy you came to love. You just missed him so much. 

A bitter smile appeared on your face, surrendering to your fate until his eyes met yours across the sea of people. He glowed radiantly, beaming at the sight of you. Without hesitation and despite everybody else around, he made a way for himself towards you. 

With so much excitement, you yelped as he hugged you tight and carried you that your legs hooked around him in reflex. Koutarou peppered kisses over your face cooing so lovely that he finally got to see and be with his most adorable Y/N. You giggled, getting a little ticklish with his kisses.  

“Babe, babe! Not here!” You protest in middle of chuckling. “There are people around.” 

Koutarou pouted. “But I miss you so much.” 

“Me too,” you said in a wide grin and he giggled like a school kid finally getting his favorite toy as present.  

He rubbed his nose against yours. “Let’s go home!” 

@pixelcafe-network

[ellecdc]

the poly!marauders and lily x shy!reader!!!!! I genuinely cannot handle how much I love it omg🫠🫠 would u be willing to make it a series??

maybe remus being overprotective/possessive of her before the full moon and she’s just like ???? bc she doesn’t know about his furry problem🫣 but the rest of the group are just really casual about the way he’s acting like “oh yeah he does this sometimes, just ignore it” and r is just like 🤔?? bc he literally won’t let her go and wants her by his side and lap all day!!

aaaaaah my mind got carried away after reading ur amazing fic🩷🩷

so. stinkin. cute (thoughts and prayers for our shy!reader fr)

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader close to Remus' time of the month

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

CW: love bite/hickies, man-handling Remus [ik, ik]

You had been…seeing the boys and Lily for long enough now to have noticed a few peculiarities. 

Black envelopes with green wax melts on the front that were delivered to Sirius were always confiscated immediately by Lily. Following the envelope's arrival, the rest of the group tended to fawn over Sirius for the rest of the day.

James was incredibly bright as a student in all subjects except Ancient Runes; prior to any quizzes or assignments, the group would play a game of “question pong” which was a twist on the muggle game ‘beer pong’ where cups were lined up and James would aim a ping pong ball and have to answer a question that was placed inside the cup that he had scored in. This amount of effort wasn’t placed into any of the others’ studies.

And what was obviously something the boys were ultimately accustomed to doing for Lily now extended to you when you couldn’t help but notice that at least one of them always escorted you to any of your classes in the dungeons. 

Another peculiarity, however, seemed to centre around Remus. 

Once a month, the group got a bit…sketchy before the three boys would disappear for about a day and then return basically back to normal. 

Lily seemed to be accepting of these occurrences, so you opted not to concern yourself with it either; if it was something you needed to know, they’d tell you.

Right?

Because, you see, the sketchiness wasn’t just limited to their comings and goings; but rather Remus himself.

He was a tactile person, that much you knew to be true. He almost always had a hand on one of his partners, a boyfriend or a girlfriend in his lap, or an arm around someone’s shoulders.

And yes, you’d been growing increasingly accustomed to the affection.

But it seemed to you that around these bouts of…sketchiness, the affection seemed to grow into something rather possessive. 

For example; it became clear to you that out of the three boys, James and Sirius were the ones who had a particular problem with Severus Snape, but during said period of said sketchiness, Remus nearly growled when he saw Lily and Snape discussing the upcoming Potions exam before he latched himself onto Lily’s side until Severus finally left. 

And then at the quidditch game against Ravenclaw, a group of girls behind you, Lily, and Remus were giggling over how ‘fit the Gryffindor captain was’ which led to Remus standing abruptly, moving to lean against the railing of the Gryffindor stands to wave James over before he pressed a searing kiss to the chasers lips leaving them both rather breathless. 

And then there was the party in the Ravenclaw common room for Benjy Fenwicks birthday where you, Lily, and Remus had been sitting watching James and Sirius dance with Marlene and Mary before Gilderoy Lockhart slid up behind Sirius in an attempt to dance with him. Sirius hardly had a chance to react before Remus was on the dancefloor and pulling his boyfriend into him, slotting their hips together and swaying sinfully to the beat all while maintaining eye contact with Gilderoy.

It seems important to note that Remus doesn’t dance.

All this to say, Remus got…sketchy.

But all of this had nothing on how he seemed to become around you.

You weren’t sure what caused the difference; perhaps it was because you were new to the group, perhaps it was because you were shy, or perhaps it was because he was more confident in his and the others’ roles within the dynamic. Either way, you were certain you were simply going to combust from the sheer amount of attention being devoted to you by your quietest boy.

You could hardly breathe or blink without him noticing, it seemed. And if you were within his vicinity, you were in his arms or on his lap.

Like right now…

You’d no sooner entered the Great Hall when you spotted Lily’s fiery red hair and made for the group before you were being man-handled to sit on the bench between his thighs.

“You almost missed breakfast, dove.” He offered quietly as he started preparing a plate for you right in front of your eyes. 

“Jeez Moony, whatever happened to good morning.” Sirius teased as he shot you a wink.

“Morning angel.” James offered quickly as Lily smiled softly at you.

“Oh, hi! I..uhm, I’m not that hungry, Rem.” You tried, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Remus’ movements hardly faltered as he continued buttering an english muffin for you, but everyone else seemed to freeze in their movements as they watched the two of you with bated breaths. 

“Breakfast is important.” He said simply.

And believing he was quite close to actually hand feeding you the english muffin, you simply took it from his hands and shrunk into his chest at the attention. 

You felt your heart leap both in affection and embarrassment as you felt him press his lips to your neck as you ate, looking to the other three in hopes of help or explanation, of which you received neither.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover with me tonight?” Lily asked you as she sipped from her tea.

“Oh, I uhm…sure, that’d be nice. Is everyone going to be there?”

Remus kept his face pressed to your neck but the others shared a glance. 

“No, we have a Marauders thing to attend to tonight, sweetness. Can we call dibs for the weekend?” Sirius offered, but his attempt was quickly shot down by Remus.

“Tomorrow.” He muttered from your neck as you fought the urge to shiver at the tickle of his breath. 

“What about the night after that?” Lily tried again.

You let out a surprised (and perhaps nervous) squeak when Remus’ embrace tightened around your middle.

“Tomorrow.” 

“Moons…” James tried, which finally got Remus’ face out from your neck in order to glare at his boyfriend.

“Tomorrow will be fine.” He proclaimed with an air of finality before he shoved his face unceremoniously back into your neck and latched his mouth to your jugular, eliciting another surprised yelp from your lips. 

“How’s that for a good morning, Y/N?” Sirius asked with a wink. 

You spent the rest of your breakfast wondering if this was your own personal heaven or your own personal hell.

Jury was still out by the time you left the Great Hall with a love bite displayed above the collar of your uniform.

[writingsbychlo]

LOSE YOUR INHIBITIONS

mattheo riddle & theodore nott | 8.1k

your boyfriend thought it would be fun to play a game of hide and seek only knowing one another's costumes. neither of you anticipated the mix-up of someone else wearing the same mask, or the thrilling events that follow.

note: happy hallowe'en, angels! you knew me and @theostrophywife would never leave you hanging on this special day, right? enjoy xo

Accepting the shot presented to you at the door, Fred Weasley delivered the vial with a charming grin. With a flick of his wrist, the door to the Gryffindor common room opened, letting the sounds of the party spill out from within. It was raging already, though this was no surprise, as the parties the twins threw had always been legendary. 

Swirling the sparkling liquid around inside the tube, it flickered in iridescent shades as the flashing lights from within rippled through it, and a smirk tugged on your painted lips. It smelled like sugared cherries and vanilla, a mouthwatering and tempting combination. Bringing it to your lips, you let the flavour wash over you, like silk as it ran down your throat dangerously smoothly. 

This party had been all anyone could talk about for the past two weeks, since the infamous Weasley pair had finally revealed the theme for this year's Hallowe’en bash. A masquerade party, hence the broken doll makeup that covered the right side of your face, but that hadn't been enough to satisfy the pair. No, rather than stop there, they’d gone on to craft themselves a potion of their own imagining, one that began to leave the edges of your vision blurring in a perfect kind of haze, and you placed the empty tube back down onto the tray in his hand. 

“How’s it feel?” Fred grinned, red hair shining under the low lights as you blinked away the fuzziness in the edges of your vision. It was then, as you stared a moment longer, that the recognition of a face you’d known for almost a decade slipped your mind entirely. 

“Oh… wow.”

“Recognise me?” He chuckled, handing a couple of vials to a group of giggling girls who passed you by, none of whom you now found you could place the identity of. Even the timbre of his voice sounded distorted and different as you processed it, knowing what he normally sounded like. 

“I only know it’s you because… well, because we've been talking. I have no idea who just walked past.” You murmured, a pleasant tingling spreading through your body, slipping away any anxieties and worries. Only warmth and excitement were left in its wake. 

“Didn’t we tell you to arrive with your friends, hm? Good luck finding anyone in there.” Fred tutted teasingly, motioning for you to go inside, and you hummed your acknowledgement as you walked into the party. 

The floors vibrated under your feet, making you wonder just how many other students they’d had to coerce into helping cast the charms keeping this party a secret from the professors. Enchanted lights refracted and bounced around the expanded common room space, changing colours and leaving patterns streaking the darkened atmosphere.

Upon entering the main room, the heavy base of the music shook you so hard it rocked all the way up into your stomach with every step you took, and bodies filled every space in the room. Dancing, talking, laughing, playing games, drinking. They’d thought of it all, and you made your way slowly over to the drinks table to fill yourself up a cup with the spiced elf wine you were so fond of this time of year. 

Some people milled around in groups, clinging to those whose identities they knew, while others boldly adventured and mingled in the freedom of anonymity. With a cursory glance across the crowds, all of the faces and voices around you blurred away before you could properly identify them. People you’d known for years were strangers to you for the night, and the spike of adrenaline it caused felt light lightning. 

With a twist in your stomach, and another gulp of wine, the music beat as your feet guided you through the throngs of people, beginning the search for a familiar mask. 

Mattheo hadn't told you when he’d arrive, only that it would be after you. 

Originally planning to arrive together, your boyfriend had thought it all the more amusing to turn the night into a thrilling game for the pair of you. You were only given the knowledge of what his mask looked like; something he’d picked up at a Muggle costume store to ensure nobody else would be wearing the same thing.

The black and white details were burned into your mind, and yet, every face you passed wasn’t what you were looking for. After completing your first lap of the party, you’d found yourself situated in a new corner. With a heady mixture of wine and adrenaline buzzing through your bloodstream, you tapped your fingers against your thigh in anticipation.

The second lap you took of the room resulted in much the same way. Though, this time, it had certainly taken longer. The dance floor had long since been overflowed, the groups, couples and solo dancers for the night had spilt out to fill almost half of the room. Grinding, swaying, twirling, you’d become caught up with different people at least three times, as the atmosphere of the party swept you away. Laughing, flushed cheeks, you finally stumbled from the masses and back into the rest of the room. 

More people had arrived since you had first started the hunt of your game, and you had no doubt now that he was in here somewhere, waiting for you to find him. No mask fit, no costume was right, and you’d done almost three laps of the room before you spotted him. 

Hours had melted by, you were sure of it, but suddenly it all felt like nothing as you spotted the masked man standing across the room. 

Tall, dressed impeccably in all black, and breathing out smoke from under the edge of the mask as he passed a cigarette around the group of boys he was standing with. His head tipped back as he laughed, and as you saw the mask you had memorised, you were sure of it. 

Slipping over, you made sure to skirt around the edges of the group, delighting in the squeal you involuntarily let loose when his head turned in your direction. Though you couldn't see his eyes beneath the mask, you could feel his sights locked onto your own, and for a moment, it felt like the breath was trapped in your lungs. 

Tall, imposing, terrifying. You bit your lip, waving your fingers at him, and watching his lips twist into a smirk, before he was handing off the cigarette in his hands, and waving back. Crooking a finger to beckon him closer, those long legs carried him until he stood before you, the smell of smoke and spiced whiskey rolling off of him and covering your senses. 

“Well, hello there.” You whispered, hands reaching out to settle on his arms as you took a small step forward. Trailing your hands along his sleeves, your fingers brushed against the embroidery on his cuff, and your smile widened at confirmation under your fingertips of the sewing you’d put there.

“Hello, doll.” He mused, humoured by his own joke, and you rolled your eyes gently, taking his hands in your own, and tugging him towards the dance floor. 

“Come on, I’ve been waiting all evening to dance.”

“Have you now?” He rolled his lower lip through his teeth, watching your hips move as you led him to a space you’d be able to occupy enough to move amongst the bodies. “And what have you been waiting for?”

“The right partner, of course.” Happy with the spot you’d found, you looped your arms around his neck, stepping into your boyfriend’s space a lot more, and his hands slid down your sides to settle on your hips. “Glad I finally found you.”

“Found me, indeed.” He mumbled, his forehead coming down to rest on your own, and a happy sigh slipped from your lips. You couldn't see much beyond the black-out eyes of the mask, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to, instead, you turned your back to him and pressed yourself into his chest, pulling his arms around you in the same way you always did. 

Swaying together in harmony, your head rolled back to sit on his shoulder, the words to the songs happily flowing from your lips as your hips ground against your boyfriend’s. Hands wandered, weak groans and ghosts of his breath along your neck were exchanged for your giggles. 

Where one game ended, a new one arose, a game of push and pull as you danced together. Pressing your arse back into his crotch, he returned the force, the outline of him pressing through his jeans to display his interest, and his arms tightened around you. 

“You’re confident, hm?” He teased, both hands dropping to your thighs, nails skating over your skin in a new and delicious way that made you shiver. When he reached the edge of your dress, his fingertips barely dipped below, before opting to toy with the fabric instead and slip away. 

“You love it.” Came your response, guiding one of his hands a little further up your body, skimming it over your breast tantalisingly before bringing your joined hands up, raised in the air to sway to the song. His laughter was warm and contagious, and time seemed to melt away once again as you sank into his embrace. 

At some point, he had tugged up the edge of his mask, his mouth descending upon your neck to kiss and lick and bite, drawing moans and whimpers from your lips. When dancing had grown tiresome for you both, you’d slipped back to the drinks table, laughing your way through a shot of Gigglewater each, before finding your way to one of the more secluded couches in the darker corners of the room. 

Now, your mouth was on his neck, marking his skin with red lipstick prints as one of his hands continued to grip your hips, allowing you to roll your core ever so slowly over the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. His other hand was splayed across one of your breasts, squeezing slowly as he panted, pulse racing under your lips. 

“(Y/n)?” A voice broke you from your reverie, and you nibbled on the sweet spot on his neck. 

“Yeah, Matty?” You whispered, believing the call to have come from the man underneath you. However, when he stiffened, so suddenly and harshly it was like he’d turned to stone, you pulled back. Your brows furrowed, you couldn't see what was wrong with his mask on, and you were reaching to remove it when you became aware of the other figure, standing behind the couch. 

With a gasp as you observed his almost identical attire, your heart felt for a moment like it stopped beating. In what you were sure would’ve looked almost comical in any other situation, you looked dumbly between the two matching masks. 

A soberingly cold bolt of shock sliced through you as you looked up, finding another tall, impeccably-clad man in all black standing behind the couch on which you were currently straddling Mattheo on. Or, thought you were, but now, as you took in the identical mask on his face, doubt began to creep in. The second man crossed his arms, legs widening in eerily familiar body language.

A sick feeling twisted in your stomach as you pulled back, pushing the man beneath you away by his shoulders. His neck was shining from the hickeys you had been enthusiastically marking his neck with. No matter how hard you tried, however, you couldn't place the features of either, recognition dancing just out of reach within your mind, and you let slip a frustrated growl. 

“Matty?” You whispered, and the man underneath you somehow stiffened further, a feat you’d thought impossible, as the one standing squared his shoulders and seemed to grow angrier through stance alone. 

“That would be me, sweetheart.” The one standing ground out through his teeth, voice so cold it made you feel like the temperature in the room had dropped. Springing up from the couch, you shook your head, feeling as though the whole world had just been tipped upside down. You had no chance to process it, as the intruder voiced the question also on your mind, “What the fuck is going on?”

“I found you! I found the mask!” An uncomfortable feeling raced through your body, heart pounding in your chest. As you rubbed at the place it thumped so hard, trying to escape, he seemed to soften a little. “I was so sure! Fuck, this stupid game—” 

The flashing lights were too much, the noise and the people and the complete lack of awareness were all too much, and you stumbled for the exit. The moment you were out of the party and alone in the corridors, it was like you could breathe again. Gasping cold breaths into your lungs, you found yourself in silence, the charms working perfectly to contain the secrecy of the party, the only noise was your heaving breaths and the sound of your heart pumping. 

Pressing your back into the cool stone of the wall, you tugged off the mask on your face, shaky fingers dropping it to the ground as the balls of your hands pressed to your eyes, just trying to think. 

Then, like a whoosh of warmth and a burst in the tranquillity of the corridor, a body slammed into the stone beside you, a groan slipping free as the breath left his lungs. The mask was still on his face, covering his identity, not that you’d be able to tell who it was even if it was gone, but you could recognise Mattheo by default now. He’d taken off his mask, his features swimming just outside of your consciousness like in a dream, but those flattened curls, and the chain around his neck, it was no doubt. 

“Someone better start explaining what the fuck is going on.” Mattheo hissed, brown eyes growing a little more familiar the longer you looked at them, filled with both rage and vulnerability. 

“I-I was so sure, Matty! I checked the sleeve and everything, I’m sorry.” The man whom you now knew to be your boyfriend was wearing a black t-shirt only, and you fumbled for the stranger’s sleeve, tugging the left one forward and tracing your finger over the embroidered initials that you had sewn into every shirt, jumper and tee he owned. 

Mattheo gripped the stranger's wrist in a far tighter hold than you had, yanking him forward to inspect the markings on the sleeve, and silent confusion settled between the three of you. Seconds ticked past in what felt more like hours, and then, Mattheo groaned in frustration, dropping the man’s wrist and raking his hand through his curls instead. He turned, kicking the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. 

“Fucking potion, I don’t even know who the fuck you are! You’ve got my sweater, I mean, what is this, a set-up?” With a swing, his open palm slammed down on the rock on the side of the stranger’s head, Mattheo’s unfamiliar features close enough to the stranger that he’d smell the whiskey on your boyfriend’s breath. “What to do with you now, huh? When I kick the shit out of you for kissing my girlfriend, I want to know exactly who I’m hitting.”

“I’ll tell you.” The stranger croaked, and Mattheo let out a dry laugh as he backed away. 

“And I’m supposed to just trust you, huh?”

You swallowed thickly, fingers gripping your ribs as your arms wrapped around yourself, unprepared for the answer, whether it was the truth or not. More silence ticked by, so many moments that your skin pebbled with goosebumps in the chill, and you rubbed your arms for warmth in the cold castle corridors. 

Eventually, the stranger balled his shaking hands, and cursed under his breath in a language you recognised immediately. Italian. Your next inhale caught painfully in your throat as realisation struck before he’d even begun to speak. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t mean for this or happen. I—”

Shoes scuffled against the floor, and then Mattheo had him by the collar of his sweater, backed to the wall once again as his fist reared back for the swing—

“It’s Theo!”

Mattheo’s punch halted, the impact of stopping so suddenly rippling along his body, and his tension faltered. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?” He implored, tugging off his mask at last, to reveal the same blurred, dreamlike features, but a recognisable head of golden-brown hair. “I can explain, I swear. Can you just put your fist down for a second?”

Reaching out, he placed a hand over Mattheo’s, lowering it slowly, and you crept forward to wrap your own hands around Mattheo’s, sliding his fist open to slip your fingers between his. He squeezed back fiercely, angrily. But, then, he lifted your hand up to his mouth, and kissed the back of your hand in a gesture you knew so well, all while glaring at ‘Theo’. 

“Look, I didn’t have a costume. It’s stupid, I wasn’t planning on coming to the party at all, but I changed my mind.” With another nervous breath, you rubbed your thumb over Mattheo’s, feeling him tense and release over and over again as bursts of anger shot through him. “You were in the shower and your mask was hanging on the back of the door, so I just used a Geminio on yours. I grabbed the first pair of black jeans and a sweater I could find, I didn’t think you’d mind, we share clothes all the time! I’m sorry.”

Mattheo took a deep breath and another. And another. 

His head tipped back to stare at the ceiling, and blue eyes that ticked at being familiar found yours, “I’m sorry, bella. I didn’t mean for all this to happen. I figured you two would show up together, and…”

“It was a game.” You finally croaked out, voice sore from holding back tears. “It was just a stupid game, I thought I found Matty but it was you.”

“I should’ve asked for your name. But, the potion and my inhibitions…”

“How does this even happen, Theo? Are you such a slut you were just letting a girl grind on you when you didn’t even know her name?” Mattheo jabbed, but the heat of rage was gone from his words, and instead lingered a desperation for some kind of explanation.

“Yes, apparently, I am!” Theo slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late now. The potion, the weed, the whiskey, it was all mixing, and Theo had always been a chatterbox when intoxicated. “Cazzo, she’s so fucking hot, mate! I didn’t want to stop and ask questions, I just wanted to get my hands on her and—” His words disintegrated into a gurgled choke as Mattheo once again pinned him to the wall, this time with a hand on his throat. 

His fingers flexed, and with a ragged swear he released the grip he had on Theo, allowing him to speak once again.

“Mattheo, you have to let me go.”

“Why?” Your boyfriend demanded, even as his hand loosened a fraction more. No matter how angry he was, you all knew he was incapable of hurting Theo. Mattheo would sooner injure himself than someone he loved, and Theo fell squarely into that category. “Why should I?”

“Because you’re not going to hurt me, we both know that,” Theo said gently, and Mattheo growled in a threat that scared nobody. “It’s not our fault. We were laced with a potion, a potion that is still very much in my system and blurring my boundaries. I was already hard as fuck, and this is really turning me on. Please let me go before this gets any more embarrassing for all of us.”

Your eyes widened, much like Mattheo’s, and Theo smirked a little at the shock he’d managed to inflict. “What?”

“Merde, since it’s clear that I’m not getting fucked tonight, and blue balls are setting in, could you kindly let me go, before I cream myself from your choking, Mattheo?” Theo hissed, his fingers wrapping around the wrist of the hand now merely sitting like a warm presence on his throat. 

Mattheo considered it for a second, two, three. A whole new kind of tension lingered in the air, and his hand slipped down from Theo’s throat to his shoulder instead. He turned to look at you, his gaze finding your own, a questioning heat swirling in them that you knew all too well. Mattheo wanted it. That kind of burning desire was something you were intimately familiar with, as was his secret wish to fuck his best friend. He’d wanted it long since before the two of you had gotten together, and he’d confided it in you early on. You’d discussed the possibility before, sure, but Theo had never been unattached, or the timing had never been right. You’d never dared cross such a line before. Now, the line was all but obliterated anyway, might as well proceed without caution. 

With a small nod, excitement lit up Mattheo’s face in replacement of dark anger.

“Who says you’re not getting fucked?”

It was Theo’s turn to be speechless, that smirk melting off of his face as he gaped instead. With all the elegance and eloquence you knew him to possess, he uttered a simple, “Huh?”

Turning back to you, Mattheo slipped a hand over your eyes, while pressing a kiss to your cheek. He muttered a few Geminio’s, and when he removed his hand, both of them had their masks back on, and matching attire now. In identical tees and jeans, right down to the boots and gloves, they looked the same. Your heart skipped a beat, and your throat bobbed with anticipation.

“Can you tell who’s who?” One of them asked, their voice unrecognisable once again, and without the simple features you’d clung to for identity, your lips parted. On a trembling, excited breath, you shook your head. 

“No. I can’t.”

“Good.” With that, a hand slipped into each of your own, a tug within your stomach telling you that someone had apparated the three of you, because when you blinked next, you were in the boys’ dorm. The latch on the door flicked locked with a quiet spell, and the needle on the record player lowered to begin crooning one of Mattheo’s favourite albums for these kinds of moments. 

You looked between them both, a twisted glee at having no idea who was who. One of them reached a hand out, brushing cold fingers along your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, peering into the dark spaces of the mask hiding his eyes. 

“I think this moment deserves a picture, don’t you?” One of them whispered, head tipping to the other, and a condescending and arousing chuckle made you shudder with anticipation. In a flurry of moving hands and bodies, you found yourself kneeling before the full-length mirror in the room, both of the masked men standing behind you. One had your hair twisted around his hand loosely, as the other held the camera. 

Click. 

“So pretty.” Came a quiet mumble, you weren’t even sure which man said it, but it made you flush and smile nonetheless. Untwisting his hand from your hair, he offered it to you instead, your fingers settling over his own as he helped you back to your feet. With a small tug, you were tumbling into his body, a gasp leaving you as your back settled on his chest.

The next photo came as you stood, your head rolled back onto a shoulder, and your dress pulled down to bunch around your waist, leaving your breasts and lacy bra on show. Large hands covered your tits, squeezing appreciatively as your vision spotted from the flash of the little Polaroid once again. 

Click. 

“Guess who?” The voice purred beside your ear, those hands moving to your hips, your thighs, tracing your body as though a new wonder before him. 

“Theo?” You whispered, tipping your head to come face to face with the mask. 

“Wrong.” The one holding the camera said, and a whimper slipped from your throat as Mattheo slapped your arse with just the kind of punishing pressure he knew so well. Biting down on your lip, you let them readjust you, slipping your eyes closed as you stood in the centre of the room. Someone tugged your dress the rest of the way down, someone held your hips as you slipped out of your heels, and then someone was flicking open the catch on your bra, until you were stood naked in the centre of the room. 

For a long moment, nobody touched you at all, and your nerves skittered at the thrill, breath catching in your throat.

Then, warm hands without the leather gloves now were on your body. Behind you, their breath on your neck, hands skimming up your arms lightly, and you gasped. You understood the game they wanted to play.

“Theo?” You whispered, sure you’d guessed correctly this time, with the reverent and cautious touch it seemed to be. The sharp sting of a hand coming down across your arse proved you wrong. 

“Nope.”

The figure stepped away from you, and your fingers twitched to reach out, your lips pulling in a grin as you waited for the next set of hands to come. When they did, it was without hesitation, two large hands closing over the top of your bra, and taking an appreciative squeeze. 

The force with which he grabbed you pulled you back into his chest, and you chuckled, tipping your head until you could feel the beat of his heart against you. 

“Theo.”

You were certain of that, getting a rumbling him against your back, and a kiss to your shoulder blades as he backed away, confirming your choice. 

The next touch was on your stomach, knuckles skimming in a featherlight touch over your skin, circling your navel, before fingertips traced the top of your panties. Snapping the elastic against your skin, he drew a breathy moan from you. “Matty.”

“Wrong.” His words were punctuated with a slap, your legs shaking with the impact, and you clenched your thighs together, forcing your eyes to stay closed no matter how much you wanted to open them. The camera never stopped clicking, observing you and recording you in the moment of erotic vulnerability.

A handful of tense moments passed this time, you were sure they were communicating something outside of your knowledge. There seemed to be no order or system to their touches, nothing you could latch onto, leaving you completely in the dark, and it was thrilling. 

A light touch traced its way up the inside of your thighs, a contrast to the foot that roughly kicked the insides of your feet, forcing your thighs to open wider. The other hand was on your back, tracing your spine until he pushed between your shoulders forcing you to bend. And as you did, those same fingers traced your cunt through your underwear, drawing an impatient whine from you as you were forced to keep waiting. “Teddy?”

“Wrong again,” Came Mattheo’s amused voice, and this time, you didn’t get a spank across your arse, but instead, a pinch to your clit that made your entire body jerk. 

“That was Mattheo.” You squeaked, familiar with his antics and the way he touched your body, and a face in front of you laughed. Cracking your eyes open to peer at someone so familiar and yet so unfamiliar at the same time, he smirked at you. 

“That was an obvious one.”

“Mhm.” Licking across your lower lip, you pushed forward, eager to close the distance and kiss your boyfriend for the first time tonight. He let you, his mouth sealing against your own in comforting familiarity, his hands holding your jaw as he straightened you back up.

His tongue played with your own while he guided you backwards until he was lowering you onto the bed, his knee between your thighs to grind on, pressing against your aching core and giving you the relief you so desperately needed. “You’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this getting’ you going?” He teased, raising your hands above you, and all you could do was nod and moan. His hand cupped your face, his thumb rubbing across your cheek, as his mouth trailed your jaw on the other side. 

When he’d finished marking his favourite spot on your neck, leaving the skin stinging in the best way possible with his prints, he pulled away once again. He flipped you over, onto your stomach, undoing the catch on your bra and letting you shake your arms out of it, before you were without touch once again, back to both of your men as they stood behind you. 

Face down in the bed, you once again lost track of who was who, feeling another set of hands snaking their way up your thighs, into the lace of your panties. Inching them own, slowly, so slowly, another hand laced into your hair, pulling your head up from the bedding, and a body pressed against your back, the camera flashing in your face once again. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, the desperation beginning to cloud any semblance of morals or judgement you might’ve had left far more than any potion ever could. “Enough pictures, I need you, please!”

“Who do you need, baby? Who’s on their knees for you, huh? Get it right, and you can have it.” Clenching your thighs, you keened, throwing an arrogant smirk over your shoulder. 

“Theo.”

They both paused for a second before Mattheo chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“Because when you eat me out, Matty, you bite me first.” Your smirk was countered with a spank to the back of your thighs, and Theo sank his teeth into one of your arse cheeks as a consequence for your attitude, but it was worth it. 

Flipping up your skirt and exposing the sensitive skin of your backside to the room, Theo blew a streak of cold air across your bare pussy, making you jerk forwards with a startled gasp. “I’ve wanted to get my mouth between your legs for so long, bella. You have no idea how often I think about this.”

With that, Theo licked a long stripe up your dripping folds, and his moan was almost as loud as yours as he got a taste. Like a man possessed, Theo began to eat. He didn’t hold back, not even for a moment, confident in his movements as he proved all those rumours true. Girls loved to talk, Theo was a hot topic in gossip groups, and you were ashamed of how often you’d listened in. Now, you knew it all to be true.

You were just beginning to lose yourself to the feeling, hips rocking against Theo’s face as he eagerly encouraged the actions, when your head was yanked up, to meet another ghost-faced mask peering down at you. You were sure your heart had stopped beating altogether. 

Kneeling before you on the bed was Mattheo. If you weren’t well aware by this point that Theo was the one on his knees behind you, devouring you like you were his final meal, you’d have recognised Mattheo by his cock alone. Pretty pink tip and a slight curve that always hit just right, the silvery bead of arousal running down his tip and into his fingers as he pumped slowly made your mouth water. 

His fingers brushed your cheek, settling on your jaw, and you opened your mouth for him. 

“My good girl.” He murmured, allowing you enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows before the heated head of his cock found its way between your lips and settled like a heavy weight on your tongue. The salty taste of him was familiar, slicking across your tastebuds as you swirled your tongue around him, a deep and throaty rumble echoing from his chest as he settled back. 

With your hips pinned to the bed, your cries of pleasure were muffled by the cock in your mouth, he switched between fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit. The sensations were overwhelming, so much going on that your head was spinning.

Kneeling there, thick thighs spread as your hands smoothed up them, you moaned around Mattheo, passing on the pleasure Theo made you feel. Sliding one hand up higher as the other supported you, your head bobbed, fingertips raking his flexing abs under his shirt. Tugging on a handful of the material, Mattheo tipped his covered face back to you, and you swore you could feel his smirk under the mask in the mere way he tilted his head. 

Pulling back with an obscene pop, you gasped for air, straightening your arm and leaning up as far as you could, while Theo still brutally gripped your hips to keep you in place against his face. “Please, Matty, take it off.”

With a mutter, his shirt disappeared, the chain you knew so well hanging around his neck, glinting in the warm lights against the glow of his skin. He held your face in his hands, pulling you up, and the mouth of the mask pressed against your lips. The taste of him through the fabric made your head spin, rationale abandoning you once again as you kissed him through the mask. 

His fingers threaded into your hair, tightening ever so slightly, as he pushed your head back down. “Suck, sweetheart.”

You dropped on shaky arms, taking the length of him down your throat once again, using him to muffle the sounds of your moans from Theo’s relentless assault on your cunt. The pressure building inside of you swelled, your hips grinding back against Theo’s face, pushing into the security of his hands on your body as he held so tight he’d bruise. With a cry around Mattheo’s cock, you fell apart. 

Your boyfriend pulled back as you came, your shouts and pleas exposed to the room as you trembled through an incredible orgasm. Theo kept up with you, every wave and dip, until you were boneless and spent on the bed. 

But he never stopped. 

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, a sensitive mewl escaping you, and as you tried to claw your way up the mattress, Theo pulled back, biting at your inner thigh. 

“You’re not going anywhere, dolcezza. I’ve waited so long for this, and who knows if I’ll ever get the chance again. I’m making the most of this. And I’m not finished.”

Mattheo slid off the bed as Theo flipped you over, letting you face the ceiling instead of the sheets now as he lifted one knee over each of his shoulders, his arms banding around your thighs. It locked you where you were, splayed open and unable to escape as he dove back in. 

Your back arched, head pressing into the mattress as his assault began anew on your overly sensitive cunt. As he worked, his own moans increased in volume and urgency, and you found the strength to lift your head for only a moment. Kneeling on the floor behind the maskless stranger that you knew to be Theo, was Mattheo. Now without his mask too, messy curls on display again, Theo sank two fingers into your core and scissored them open, freeing himself up to toss his head back onto Mattheo’s shoulder. 

Mattheo was kissing and biting his way along Theo’s shoulder and up his throat, his arm around Theo’s body moving in a way that you knew exactly why Theo was moaning in such a way. When Mattheo’s kisses reached high enough, Theo twisted his head, lips locking on Mattheo’s, and you clenched down around his fingers, dropping your head back to the bedding at the sight. 

Theo switched between kissing your boyfriend and kissing your pussy, both involving copious amounts of tongue, as his fingers never let up inside of you. Already being so overstimulated, it didn’t take long until you were teetering on the brink of another earth-shattering climax, ears ringing with your noise and Theo’s. 

Hopefully, everybody was at the party, because you’d forgotten to cast a Muffliato and there was no doubt that anyone passing by would be able to hear your moans. That, and the needy sounds Theo was making as Mattheo worked him closer and closer to the edge. 

When you finally came again, your body shook and trembled against the mattress, legs snapping closed as your wetness soaked your thighs, and you gasped for burning breaths amid the delirious pleasure. On the floor, Mattheo tugged an overstimulated Theo’s head back with a fistful of his golden hair, and bit the lobe of his ear, hard. Theo’s eyes rolled back happily as Mattheo mumbled, “Don’t you dare come yet, pretty boy, I have plans for you.”

With that, Theo was whining pathetically as Mattheo retracted from touching him at all, rocking to his feet with far too much arrogant ease for the state both you and Theo rendered to. The final pieces of clothing between the three of you were shed, somewhere between Theo pulling Mattheo in for desperate kisses, and Mattheo mumbling into the snog about how long he’s desired this. You watched, through hooded eyes, as the tangled men stumbled their way towards you, hips grinding together through decreasing layers of clothing, until Mattheo was gripping them both in his hand to thrust together. 

You threw an arm over your eyes, too turned on by the sight before you to even catch your breath, and the mattress was soon bouncing as another body hit it. You found yourself lying beside Theo on the bed, his features ever so slowly starting to seep back into focus. The potion was nearing its end, and the smile on his swollen lips was familiar as he leaned over to kiss you. 

“Hi, bella.”

“Hi, Teddy.” You grinned as his mouth slanted against your own, a heady mix of Mattheo’s flavour, your arousal, and simply him, all meeting in the kiss. It was enough to melt you into his arms in half a second. Theo rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, and you yelped as Mattheo gripped your hips and lifted you to straddle Theo properly. 

“You looked so pretty squirming in his lap before, baby. Show me again.” Mattheo mocked, and you had no doubt you were far from pretty, now. Your tears would’ve ruined your makeup, smeared into your hands or the sheets, you no doubt looked like a fucked-out mess, but the only thing you saw reflected in either of their gazes was raw, primal desire. 

Theo slipped a hand from your hip to his cock, notching the leaking tip to your entrance, already stretched out from his previous activities. You were clenching around nothing, your whining reaching your ears, fading out into moans as he slowly sank into you. Inch by inch, Theo was stretching you out for the first time this evening. He was longer than Mattheo, surpassing any depths you’d ever been fucked to before, and your eyes rolled back, panting through shallowed breaths as you pushed back against him until you were filled. 

It truly felt like he was splitting you in half, the tip of his cock pressing so deep and the outline of him present on your stomach. You traced the bulge of him with a sick kind of thrill. “So big, Teddy.”

“That's because I’ve never been this turned on in my fucking life. Merde.” He wheezed, his head pressing back into the bedding behind his head. Mattheo chuckled from behind you both, his kisses leading up your spine as you sat in Theo’s lap, adjusting to the fill of him. 

“Look at my sweethearts, already so spent,” Mattheo murmured, hooking his chin over your shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist to toy slowly with your throbbing clit. As your hips began to move, Theo’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes constantly moved between where you met, your face, and Mattheo. He couldn't decide where to look or what to watch, as Mattheo littered your mouth with hickeys behind you, and you rode Theo. 

The potions were finally wearing off, and you were thrilled to see the familiar features reappear. Beneath you, at last, Theo came into full focus. His messy hair, his flushed cheeks, swollen lips and shining eyes. He was the most beautiful you’d ever seen him, and that was saying something because he was gorgeous every moment of every damn day. You couldn't help yourself as you smiled, and he beamed back with genuine emotion, not just lust.

Rocking your hips needily against his own, chasing both of your climaxes, you leaned down to him and smothered his lips with your own. He kissed back just as tenderly, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, and he sighed in a soft manner as your fingers slipped into his hair, and your tongue tangled with his. 

He settled for propping himself up during the kiss, giving you the perfect place to lean against his chest. Finally finding himself and crooking his legs behind you, his motions tossed you forward a little more, your mouths parting with your surprised gasp. He smirked as you lost your momentum and power, only to hand it all over to him as he began to thrust up into you from below. In your new position, Mattheo let out a contented sound at the sight, running calloused hands down the sides of your ribs, over your hips, and to your arse. 

Pulling your cheeks apart, he whispered a new spell you’d been experimenting with lately, and the warm, wet sensation of a lubricating charm trickled out from between your cheeks. A fingertip teased your puckering hole, sliding in to the first knuckle, and then deeper. 

“Think you can take us both, baby?” Mattheo asked, teasing, but genuine concern coated his voice through the lust, and when you nodded frantically, it wasn’t enough. 

“Both?” Theo panted, his thrusts slowing to a stop as you pushed yourself back onto what was now two of Mattheo’s fingers, stretching you open to take a second cock. “Oh, fuck, you’re— voi due siete come se il mio sogno più bello diventasse realtà.” Theo moaned, his hands holding your hips tight as he slammed a single, frantically hard thrust into you and then stilling for Mattheo.

“Yes or no, sweetheart? I don’t want to—”

“Yes, Mattheo! Merlin, yes, please! Please, do it.” Your begging was hurried and blurred, no longer capable of proper thought of speech, all you knew was what you needed from him. From them both. 

Mattheo slipped his fingers out of you, gripping his cock and spitting down onto himself, smearing it around his cock in the wetness already gathered, and positioning himself. At the sight, Theo whined again, “Me next,” He mumbled, and Mattheo laughed breathlessly. 

“To be spat on, or to be fucked up the arse?” Mattheo questioned, sinking himself into you slowly, and your eyes rolled back. 

“Cazzo, what kind of question is that? Both. Absolutely both.” Theo yapped, only drowned out by the volume of the sound you made. Pornographic, filthy, and uncontrollable. Your arms finally gave way, and you collapsed down to be cradled against Theo’s chest as you were finally filled with them both. It was so much it was overwhelming, in the best way possible, and you knew now that you were definitely being split in two this time. It was exquisite. 

Beginning to rock their hips into you, the two soon found a pace and worked together, and you lost yourself to the pleasure of it. Pure, unadulterated bliss took you over, the feeling spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes, and clouding everything thought in your head that wasn't begging or their names. Your body rocked with them, your throat raw, and it wasn’t long before the feelings were all consuming. 

Catapulting over the brink of bliss, a feeling you’d only experienced once or twice before took hold of you. Your juices gushed from you, a mess that soaked both the man under you as well as the one behind you. Mattheo praised you through an orgasm that came with so much force you were sure you blacked out for a moment, while Theo rode you through it and observed in awe. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt as though you were hardly breathing, screams petering off into absolute silence as tears ran down your cheeks. It was perfect. 

Mattheo soon followed, emptying himself inside of you with a deep and feral growl, pressing you into Theo’s chest as his body collapsed against your own. Shaking against you through his bliss, Mattheo left a collection of fast, loving kisses along your neck and shoulders, before pulling you off of Theo. 

Letting you roll to the side and shudder through the aftershocks, Mattheo focused his attention on the other member of your trio. Theo couldn’t even find the words to complain before Mattheo was circling a finger and thumb around the base of Theo’s cock, following the creamy circle of your arousal, and squeezing. 

Theo’s back arched, his legs spasming, and the veins in his biceps stood out as his cheeks went red with the strain of his desperation. 

“No!” He howled, slamming a fist into the bedding, almost hitting the discarded camera, and your hand caught it just before it rolled off of the edge of the bed. Surprising, that it had survived there for this long. “Why, Matty? I was— I was—”

Theo’s voice cracked, tears lining his eyes at being held at the brink when he was so close to the edge, and he took gasping, audible breaths as he tried to settle himself, sniffling. 

“I know, my pretty boy, I know,” Mattheo whispered, leaning down to kiss Theo’s frown. “You can come, just let me get my mouth on you first. I’ve always wanted you to come down my throat, I just needed you to hold off for me.” 

Theo let out a pained groan at that, his anger fading away as he nodded, and he slipped long fingers into dark curls before your very eyes as Mattheo descended upon his best friend’s cock. 

He dragged his tongue along the entire length of him, licking your juices from Theo’s skin, and his cock twitched dangerously. Taking the hint, Mattheo swallowed him down, and he wasn’t even halfway before Theo’s back arched, and he came. 

It was a beautiful sight and sound, both you and Mattheo watching in admiration as Theo finally reached his peak. Positioning the camera in your unsteady hands, you snapped a picture of the sight before you. Theo’s arched back, Mattheo with his flushed cheeks stuffed full, watching the man he was pleasuring. 

Click.

At the flash in the room, Mattheo’s focus moved to you, a wicked look flashing in those pretty eyes as he sucked one more time against Theo’s cock, before pulling back. He opened his mouth, tongue out, a picture of perfect filth as he showed just how much come Theo had released, dripping across his tongue. 

Click.

He took the camera from your hands and tossed it to the ground the second the photo was out, leaning down to kiss you messily and share the prize he’d won. Hurried kisses with Mattheo slowed as Theo’s taste seeped away, and your racing hearts all managed to settle.

The three of you lay in the bed, slowly gathering yourselves once again as you came back down from orbit. You were covered in bruises and bites, Theo was covered in your scratches and hickeys, and Mattheo was just a mess. The room smelled of sweat, sex, and weed Mattheo sparked up. Theo uttered a few charms and spells, whatever he could think of as you all basked in the afterglow, sharing the spliff between you.

Curling onto your side when it was finished, you caught Mattheo’s eye over the top of Theo’s chest, the grin he wore told you just how content and satisfied he was with the night’s events. Theo lifted an arm, brushing it through his hair with a heavy sigh, and when he lowered it back down, you caught his hand. 

Lacing his fingers with your own and snuggling in closer, your cheek came to rest on his shoulder as you kissed his knuckles. “That was incredible.” You whispered into the room, the music sputtering out and the lights lowering to fade out with a click of Mattheo’s fingers. 

“We’re doing that again soon, right?” Mattheo asked, prompting tired laughs from both you and Theo. “What? I haven’t even begun to scratch off the bucket list of things I want the three of us to do together.”

[fictionismyreality3]

Learned your lesson? (18+)

Simon Riley x Reader

Tags: Smut, daddy!simon, angry!simon

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, thigh riding, daddy kink, face slapping, slight impact play, spanking, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, exhibitionism if you squint

Notes: absolute dEBaUchErY 🤪 but I have no regrets 🤭 gimme a chance and I’d let Simon ruin my-

In hindsight, the situation you were in was probably your fault.

You hadn’t meant to make Simon angry, and he wasn’t really, but you were being a brat. In your defence, having him away from you all the time got a little lonely, and you could only fuck yourself with the dildo he got you so many times before you started wanting the real thing.

That’s why you had blown up his phone all day, sending him video after video of you fucking yourself in every room of your apartment, moaning his name as you came. In the back of your mind, you knew it was a bad idea, but it felt so deliciously good to imagine his eyes widening as he stood on base and got all your little gifts, especially when you were riding the dildo with his t-shirt on.

Your hands gripped the black marble countertop of your shared bathroom as you bounced your ass back against the wall, the hyper-realistic dildo hitting you just right. When Simon showed up with a clone-a-willy kit in hand before a long deployment, you nearly spat out the soda you were drinking.

“What the fuck is that?” You managed to sputter as you coughed, trying not to spit soda all over the living room carpet.

“Your stress reliever, luv’.” Simon’s eyes sparked behind his balaclava as he chuckled with mirth.

The rest of that night consisted of you whispering in his ear and tracing his neck with your tongue, keeping him hard as you carried out your diy sex toy production.

And now, as you fucked yourself on your clone of Simon’s cock, your phone propped up to record, the dildo did its job, but it wasn’t Simon.

It wasn’t him.

That’s why you made sure to look directly into the camera as you felt the familiar sparks building up in your core, and when you came, you let him know how much you missed him.

What you couldn’t have known, was that the wifi on base was horrendous. You’d think with the budget going towards the military, they could at least invest in a new router, but no. Simon often had to struggle through paperwork, which he already detested, waiting for the tiniest files to load. In your eagerness to tease him, you sent all the videos at once, but couldn’t have known that they’d take ages to get delivered.

By the time they reached their destination, blowing up Simon’s phone all at once, it was hours after you’d initially hit send. It was nearly impossible for him to be away from you as it is. As soon as he saw your face the day you met, he knew that he’d be needing you for the rest of his life.

He didn’t like leaving you and he didn’t like sharing.

Two weeks away from the only reminder of having a normal life was already painstaking. It was the last day on base and Simon was counting down the minutes till he could get home and show you how much he missed you. The time spent rubbing himself in the barracks bathroom, jerking his cock to the thought of you, all it had done was provide temporary relief. He needed the real thing.

He needed to be buried so deep in your tight little cunt that he made himself a part of you with each thrust.

Simon was counting down the minutes as he sat through the last briefing of the day, just a few hours away from getting to let out all his pent up tension, when his phone began to buzz endlessly. His heart spiked, threatening to burst from his throat as he saw the texts from you. Instantly, the worst case scenarios of what could’ve happened ran through his mind. He wasn’t a paranoid man by any means, but when it came to you, the only thing that mattered more that keeping you happy was your safety.

What if something happened? What if you were hurt? What if you’d been taken hostage and someone was sending him videos of you being tortured?

Okay, so, maybe a little paranoid.

Not wanting to wait in agonizing curiosity, he clicked open the attachment.

Within seconds, sounds of your wanton moaning filled the room, your breathy whimpers of his name silencing the rest of the 141 who had been debriefing. All eyes snapped to Simon as he fumbled with his phone, dropping it to the floor in his haste to mute the video. This interrupted Soap’s guffawing, as his eyes locked on the screen, the video of you riding the dildo he got you playing on repeat.

“Jesus Christ, Lt! Tha’ yer woman? She’s a sight to-” Gaz smacked him upside the head as Price tried to avert his eyes, clearing his throat.

“Watch your fuckin’ eyes, Johnny, before I rip ‘em outta your skull.” Simon snapped.

Finally, he managed to switch the video off, but the damage was done. Even though he sat as still as a statue for the rest of the brief, his balaclava hidden face betraying no emotion despite Soap’s repeatedly cheeky comments, Simon was livid.

From the time he first took you, he ruined you for anyone else. Nobody could replace him, nobody could break you or make you scream like he did. But you’d ruined everything else for him too. And just the thought of someone else getting to have you, getting to touch even an inch of your skin, was enough that he had to ball his fists so as not to throttle Johnny’s neck.

He trusted his guys with his life, even if he’d never tell them that. But this was different.

This was you.

While you giggling conspiratorially to yourself, thinking about the fun you’d have with him when he got home, Simon was whiteknuckling the wheel of his truck, trying not to break the speed limit to get home to you faster. His cock was achingly hard as he ran over how he planned to punish you again and again in his mind. You’d love every second of it, he always made sure you did, but he wanted to tease you just like you did him.

This is what he loved about you. How you were so eager to please, but so eager to rile him up, it was the perfect combination to make Simon’s cock scream at him to fuck your pretty throat.

He nearly ran a stop sign imaging cumming in your greedy mouth.

His dirty girl.

His greedy girl. He definitely couldn’t give you the usual treatment this time. The thought of your ass marked up with his handprints after a spanking was tempting, but you would enjoy it far too much. He wanted to see you struggle to get even the slightest bit of relief after the stunt you pulled.

The rumbling of his truck signalled his arrival to your keen ears, and you jumped up from the couch, running to the front door of the cozy house you’d bought together to stand on the porch waiting for him.

Simon got out of his truck. He knew you were standing there, where you always were to welcome him home after a deployment, but he didn’t look at you. Getting his gear bag from the back, he slung it over his shoulders and trudged up the front stairs. His kit was well over 100 pounds, but he still managed to carry it with one hand. The other hand shot out to wrap around your throat, causing you to stumble on your feet.

“Simo-” Your greeting was cut of by your now restricted air supply, and your hands instinctively clawed at his grip on your throat. He didn’t utter a word, only reached around you to open the door, pushing you inside as he followed, closing it with his foot.

You were pinned up against the wall as soon as his gear bag had hit the ground, and you could already hear his ragged breaths.

“D’you have any idea,” He huffed, trying to restrain himself from just fucking you against the wall. “how much shit you’re in for… love?” He ground out the pet name like it took effort for him to keep from swearing even more.

You quickly ran through everything that you could have done wrong in your mind. Sure, you’d been a brat all day, but Simon liked when you were bratty from time to time. Nothing you could think of could explain the tightly contained anger that was rippling off of him.

“What? Did you not like the videos?” You managed to say breathily, the grip on your throat keeping you perched on the edge of loosing your breath. “Did I not like the-” Simon stopped to let out a low, raspy chuckle, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

“I loved the videos, sweetheart. An’ so did the boys.” He whispered slowly into your ear.

Immediately your face scrunched up as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“What do you mean, Si? I only….oh.” The reality of your mistake hit you all at once.

Oh.

How could you have forgotten that Simon would probably be around the rest of the 141, not to mention how inept with technology he was. No wonder the rest of the team saw you. Your swirling thoughts were broken up by Simon releasing your throat, only to grab your arm, and roughly drag you over to the couch.

“‘Oh’ is right, luv’.” He murmured as he sat down, pulling you on top of his lap to straddle him. Your hands instinctively went for his balaclava, wanting to take it off and see his face, a permission only you were granted.

Before your fingers could even meet the fabric, Simon was grabbing both your wrists with one hand, pinning them to your lap. You really had poked the bear in all senses of the word. Simon was utterly massive, and he could easily palm any part of you that would take most people two hands to hold.

With his free hand, he pushed his balaclava up so it rested just underneath his nose, his lips free to kiss you. Your stomach was churning with a mix of apprehension and excitement. You knew the look in his eyes, the look he only got when he was going to break you. It was nearly impossible to keep from leaning down and pressing a kiss to his inviting lips, but you knew that you were already in as much trouble as it was.

With the way you were straddling his lap, the thin material of your shorts allowed you to feel his cock growing ridged underneath you. Heat bloomed in your core and Simon’s grip on your wrists suddenly felt electric.

“You’re a greedy cockslut, aren’t you?” He slipped the hand which wasn’t keeping your wrists trapped underneath your shirt. “So desperate you jus’ had to be a brat, hm? Had to let everyone see wha’ a needy girl you are.”

The low, condescending tone of his voice made your head swim, and your breaths began to come faster and faster as he palmed your tits, beginning to play with your nipples. You couldn’t exactly be sorry when he was making you feel so good, but there was still some guilt in the back of your mind for putting him on the spot.

“Simon, I’m-” Simon’s large hand slapped you lightly across the cheek, tugging your hair to refocus your gaze on him. “Don’t fuckin’ call me that.” He pinched your nipple hard, causing you to reel forwards into his chest.

“What’s my fuckin’ name, huh? Only good girls get t’call me Simon.” He dug his fingers into the skin of your wrists, the pain warning you of what would come if you weren’t more obedient.

“…daddy?” You tried quietly.

Simon’s grip on your wrists lessened instantly, and his hands began to tease at your tits again. The whiplash of pain to pleasure was something that he had perfected, and he loved the way you’d bite your lip as you struggled to catch up. All it took was just getting you to call him daddy and he could already feel you melting in his lap, your eyes getting half lidded and foggy.

“That’s right, bunny. And daddy teaches his baby how to behave doesn’t he?” Simon said expectantly, beginning to peel off his t-shirt you were wearing.

“Y-yes, daddy.” The cold air hit your skin, sending a shiver through body as you were left in just your thin pajama shorts, straddling your hulk of a boyfriend. Without the t-shirt in the way, Simon had easy access to your gorgeous tits, and took the opportunity to take a nipple in between his teeth, his other hand running up and down your back.

He was rock hard by now, the feeling of your soft skin on top of him sending his mind into a buzzing haze of desire. All he wanted to do was rut up into that precious pussy of yours and make you cum around his cock. But he had to be patient. He had to make sure you knew what you did wrong.

As soon as he felt you begin to rock your hips, a movement so imperceptible that only those who knew you would realize what you want, he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. Simon’s eyes were narrowed in warning, and a dark chuckled left his throat.

“You’re so greedy.” He growled, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Show daddy you’re more than jus’ a needy little girl.”

“How, daddy?” You breathed.

A whine fell from your lips as you slipped further away from being rational, your head fuzzy with want as you felt Simon’s cock pressed underneath you.

“Can’t get off without my cock, hm?” He thought back to the videos of you fucking yourself on the dildo he got you. Simon loosened his grip on your hips, allowing you to move, only to shifted you so that he could tear your pajama shorts off. He lifted you slightly so that you were straddling one of his thighs instead.

“You wanna cum s’badly? You need it s’much that you’re a brat?”

“Fuck yourself on my thigh then, luvie.”

Your breath left you in one big whoosh, and the moment Simon gave you permission to move, you were grinding down on his thigh. The fabric of his jeans rubbed against your clit, sending little jolts of pleasure through you.

Simon watched as your eyes got droopy, half opened through your haze of pleasure. He was still angry but right now all he could focus on was how pretty you looked. Your cheeks all flushed from his words and the exertion of grinding on him, your little hands holding onto his shoulders, and the wet spot on your panties.

“That’s it, pretty. Jus’ like that.” He groaned.

His cock felt impossibly hard, raging with need every time he looked at the way your tits bounced. Fumbling with his belt, he pulled his cock out. The noise caught your attention, and you faltered, going to reach for him. You didn’t get very far, because as soon as Simon felt you stop moving, he delivered two quick spanks to your ass.

You cried out in surprise and pain as he fisted one hand in your hair, and the other around his leaking cock. His hands were so big it made him look normal sized, but you knew he was easily almost ten inches.

“Such a whore.” He whispered, pulling your hair so your head was forced back. “Jus’ had t’get my cock in your mouth.”

Simon stroked himself lazily, savouring the wave of heat which coursed through him every time he ran a thumb over his tip. It wasn’t your touch, but it would do for now. Your gaze was forced to the ceiling as Simon kept you locked in position, observing you like his own personal work of art. The sound of his quiet groans filling your ears was torturous knowing you weren’t allowed to touch him. You could feel yourself leaking into his jeans, and knew he no doubt felt it too.

“Are you- oh, gonna be a good girl f’me?” His mouth latched on your exposed neck as he sucked a hickey into your skin, marking you as his. You were panting, practically trembling as he forced you to keep still. Simon was closer than he’d like to admit. It had been weeks since he’d touched you and just seeing you writhing on lap, trying to get whatever friction you could, made his cock leak.

“Say it, bunny.” He rasped into your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“I’ve learned my lesson, daddy. Please, can I…” You trailed off, afraid that if you asked for his cock you’d seem ever more needy.

But Simon was thrilled.

Having the love of his life, almost naked on his lap, desperate to touch him was like a dream. The hand in your hair pushed your head down, his palm big enough to cover the back of your head.

“Suck.” He growled.

Rubbing the head of his cock along your mouth, demanding entrance, you parted your lips. Simon pushed inside of your mouth, heavy on your tongue as he let out a long, drawn out groan you wished you could have on repeat.

“Shit, sweathear’- oh, fuck..” He hissed. You could feel him twitching in your mouth.

He tried to focus on anything but the warm, wet-

Oh, god.

Simon bucked his hips up and began to fuck into you without warning, sending your hands shooting out to his stomach to catch yourself. His cock hit the roof of your mouth and your throat tightened on reflex as you tried not to gag. You could feel Simon’s nails digging into your scalp as he bobbed your head up and down.

“Sorry, luv’ I jus’,” He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips around him. “Been achin’ for you, bunny. All those videos y’sent me.” He moaned, no longer able to keep himself from being gentle.

“Let daddy cum in y’mouth, sweetheart.”

The words flooded your pussy with heat, and Simon took notice of the way you moaned around his cock. He was strict, but he wasn’t cruel, and you had been good so far. Taking a little pity on you, Simon used his free hand to grab your hip, bouncing his leg so you could get a little relief. The sudden stimulation sent your dripping cunt into overdrive, and as Simon rammed his cock into your throat, you began to rut against his thigh.

He would’ve told you to keep your eyes on him, but they looked so pretty rolling back into your head.

“Yeah, yeah jus’ like that.” He said, his voice raspy as he tried to hold himself back. “Be good for daddy. Get close, luv’.”

You didn’t have to try with the way your cunt was clenching around nothing. Every bounce of his leg rubbed your clit against his jeans, and he pushed you further by holding your hip to help you grind against him. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, and Simon knew it too with the way you were moaning around his cock. Every noise you made sent a vibration through him, and he began to fuck your mouth with abandon, his balls tightening in anticipation.

“Oh, god. Oh f-fuck, bunny keep-” He spasmed in your mouth. “Keep suckin’ just like tha’. Daddy’s gonna cum in your pretty lil’ mouth.”

His words made your head spin. The only thought on your mind was drawing as much pleasure from him as you could, so you took his balls in your hand, rolling them a few times to push him over the edge. Your core was fluttering with need as you rutted against Simon’s leg, which he kept bouncing, hitting your swollen clit mercilessly. It was too much for both of you after weeks without each other.

Simon’s hand left your hip so he could tangle both hands in your hair, the need for his own pleasure taking over. You managed to glance up, wanting to see his face as he came.

“Luvie.. luvie, oh sweatheart.” His mouth hung open as he let out a noise he didn’t know he could make. The sight of you grinding desperately against his thigh tipped him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck. Bun-”

Ropes of hot, thick cum shot down your throat, filling your mouth and spilling past your lips. The taste of Simon on your tounge was enough to break you. Your mind shattered as you began rutting on his thigh, not caring how needy you looked, the heat in your pussy sent you spiralling. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, and you gushed all over Simon’s leg as he pressed himself so deep into your mouth that your nose hit his stomach.

He sent the last of his load down your throat and pulled your head up as you gasped for air. The world was fuzzy, but you felt two big, strong arms pulling you up from where you’d collapsed forward onto Simon’s stomach.

Taking you into his lap, he ran a hand through your hair as he rubbed your back in slow, comforting circles. His cock lay resting against his stomach, big even when it was getting soft. Simon’s hand found your chin and he turned your gaze to his, helping you come back to reality by taking off his balaclava to let you see his face.

“Did so good f’me, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to your nose, making you giggle.

“Thank you, daddy.” You managed to say, your eyes getting droopy as sleepiness began to creep in.

“I think you learned your lesson, sweetheart.” He mused, noticing your breaths begin to slow. “Jus’ rest here, luv’.”

“Daddy’s got you.”

Simon watched with reverence as your head rested against his shoulder, your flushed cheeks making you look even cuter than you did choking on his cock. This was good. This was right. He’d take care of you forever, he knew it from the moment he saw you. You didn’t realize yet, but you had one hell of a guardian angel on your side.

[thelone-copper]

If there’s extra buns in his home he’s just straight up adopting them WHSBDBFBBFF he orders lil hats for them and everything

@thelone-copper for u gamer 😔🥄🥄🥄

bonus Dusty content

Fuggin bummy

[buckets-and-trees]

Bird On A Wire

Characters/Pairings: Mafia!Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader x Mafia!Steve Word Count: 4.3k Summary: Caught by two dangerous men, you see the skies ahead for you as their little bird. Sequel to Little Lark.

Content/Warnings: dub-con, explicit smut, cockwarming, oral (male receiving), PIV sex, anal fingering (female receiving), use of pet name (little lark), dacryphilia, so much praise kink

Author Notes: Week eight of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - using the COCKWARMING and dialogue prompts (dialogue prompt bold/italicized) - and filling my May box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with PRAISE KINK.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The next morning, you were on a flight to New York City. Private jet. In the clothes you’d worn yesterday, but they’d been laundered overnight. You’d slept naked in the bed of Barnes and Rogers - with what little sleep they allowed you to have.

You’d been allowed a few hours of sleep just before dawn and given a modicum of reprieve as the men woke for the day, ordered room service, and got to business. When your laundered clothes had been delivered, they’d plucked you out of bed, and told you to dress and be ready to leave within a few minutes.

You sat stiffly in the plush leather seat. As the jet soared over the clouds, you stared out the window, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The events of the past 24 hours felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from. Your body ached, a constant reminder of the previous night's activities. The sapphire pendant hung heavy around your neck, its weight a physical manifestation of your new reality.

Bucky and Steve sat across from you. You tried not to look at them, but your eyes kept darting over, drawn by some magnetic pull you couldn't explain.

Steve was typing away on a laptop while Bucky leafed through some papers, both of them seemingly unconcerned with your presence. You tried to steady your breathing, to appear calm, but your mind raced with questions and fears about what awaited you in New York.

You couldn't help but marvel at how normal they seemed in the light of day, dressed in crisp suits, sipping coffee. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were just successful businessmen.

"We'll be landing in about an hour," Steve informed you, breaking into your thoughts. "Once we're home, we'll get you settled in."

Home. The word felt foreign. You wondered what kind of life awaited you in New York.

"I… I don't have any of my things," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky looked up from his papers, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, little lark. We'll take care of everything you need."

Steve nodded in agreement. "You'll want for nothing. Clothes, toiletries, anything you require - it's all been arranged." His eyes roamed over you appreciatively. "We take care of what's ours."

You shivered at his words, unsure if it was from fear or something else entirely. The way they looked at you made you feel both terrified and oddly… desired.

But the implication was clear: they had planned this, had known exactly how things would unfold. You swallowed hard, trying to process the level of control they already had over your life.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "And my family? You said... you said you knew about them."

"Safe and sound," Bucky assured you, his tone oddly gentle. "We've already arranged for their debts to be cleared and their protection to be... ongoing."

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly. "As far as they know, you've accepted a lucrative job offer in New York. They’ll believe you’re busy, and you will be.”

"What exactly am I supposed to do?" you asked, voicing another of the many questions swirling in your mind. "You said you don't need an assistant..."

Steve closed his laptop and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Your job, sweetheart, is to keep us happy.”

“In every way,” Bucky added.

You felt your face flush at their words, memories of the previous night flashing through your mind. You looked down at your hands, fidgeting in your lap.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Steve reached across and took your hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. "It means you'll be by our side, day and night. At home, at social events, in business meetings. You'll learn to anticipate our needs, to be whatever we require in the moment."

Bucky's eyes glinted as he added, "And in private, you'll pleasure us. Satisfy our every desire."

Your breath caught in your throat. The reality of your situation was sinking in deeper with each passing moment.

"But I'm not... I don't have experience with..." you trailed off, embarrassed.

Steve's eyes darkened, a predatory glint appearing. "Oh, you can. And you will."

Bucky set aside his papers and leaned forward, mirroring Steve's posture. "We're not unreasonable men, little lark. Please us, and you'll find life can be very... pleasurable."

The implication in his tone made you shiver. You remembered all too well the sensations they had drawn from your body the night before, against your will and better judgment.

"But disappoint us," Steve continued, his voice low and dangerous, "and there will be consequences.”

You felt every muscle in your body tense.

Steve’s phone buzzed, and he stood abruptly, dropping your hand and walking away to take the call.

“We’ll start with something simple.” Bucky reached for your other hand and guided you to your feet. The jet's cabin suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. You could smell his cologne - a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine.

"Let's see how well you can follow instructions," Bucky murmured, his voice low and husky. His steel-blue eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. "Take off your panties."

Your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding. You glanced nervously at Steve, still on his phone call at the other end of the cabin.

"Eyes on me, little lark," Bucky commanded softly, drawing your attention back. "Steve's busy. This is between you and me right now."

With trembling hands, you reached under your skirt. You hesitated for a moment before slowly sliding your panties down your legs, stepping out of them. Bucky's gaze never wavered, patient but unyielding. Bucky held out his hand and you placed the delicate fabric in his palm. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply before pocketing them with a smirk.

"Good girl," he praised. "Now, unzip my pants and take my cock out."

Your eyes widened, darting nervously to Steve again. He was still engrossed in his call, pacing at the far end of the cabin.

“Lark,” Bucky growled, and your eyes darted back to him, the warning clear. “I said eyes on me,” he reminded, bringing his hand to your cheek, and tracing along the edge of your jaw. You knew the tender gesture was a signal that he could grip your jaw and force you to do what he wanted.

You knelt before him, and with shaking hands, you reached for his belt buckle. The leather was soft and supple under your fingers as you worked it open. Bucky's breath hitched slightly as your knuckles brushed against his abdomen. You fumbled with the button of his trousers before managing to undo it, then slowly lowered the zipper.

Bucky's eyes never left your face, watching your every reaction. You could feel the heat radiating from Bucky's body, smell his intoxicating scent.

Your fingers trembled as you reached into Bucky's pants, feeling the heat of his skin. You carefully extracted his cock, already half-hard and impressive in size. The weight of it in your hand made your breath catch. You stroked him tentatively, marveling at the contrast of soft skin over rigid flesh.

Bucky's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. "That's it, little lark. Nice and slow," he murmured, voice husky.

You continued your ministrations, feeling him grow fully erect under your touch. Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. The cabin suddenly felt too warm, too small. Everything the night before had been the two of them working you while you took what they gave. It was different now with you being the one taking action.

"Enough," Bucky growled softly after a few moments. He grasped your wrist, stilling your movements. "Up in my lap."

Heart pounding, you obeyed as he tugged you up and guided you to straddle his waist. You tentatively braced your hands on his shoulders. He pushed your skirt up and out of the way, before guiding you onto his cock. “You’ll warm my cock the rest of the flight, maybe this’ll help you relax.”

Your trembled and gasped as he pulled your hips down. He found little resistance, as your traitorous body was already growing slick for him, but your cunt was sore from taking their enormous cocks the night before. Quiet tears slipped down your face, but you bit your lip, not wanting to make him unhappy.

He brushed one of your tears away with his thumb and smiled at you, half tender, half patronizing.

Your breath caught as you felt Bucky's cock stretching you, filling you completely. He held you still once you were fully seated, hand gripping your hip firmly.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, brushing his lips against your ear. Then he gently coaxed your head onto his shoulder. "Now, stay nice and still. Don't move unless I tell you to."

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. The position was intimate, almost unbearably so. You could feel every twitch of Bucky's cock inside you, every slight shift of his body. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still.

Steve's voice drifted over from the other end of the cabin as he continued his phone call. The normalcy of his tone, discussing what sounded like business matters, was a stark contrast to your current situation. You felt exposed, vulnerable, even though you were still fully clothed. Your face burned with shame and arousal. You couldn't believe you were doing this, sitting in Bucky's lap with his cock inside you while Steve was just feet away.

When you heard Steve’s footsteps approaching a few minutes later, you tensed.

"Good girl," he praised, one hand moving to stroke your back soothingly. "You're doing so well."

“Isn’t she?” Bucky cooed.

And your body betrayed you again, clenching around Bucky's length over their praise.

Bucky chuckled darkly.

“She like that, Buck?”

"Mmm,” he hummed. “Our little lark is a slut for praise.”

Steve chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Is that so?" Steve crouched down beside Bucky’s seat. His hand came to rest on your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Look at me, sweetheart."

Hesitantly, you lifted your head from Bucky's shoulder and met Steve's intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his hand sliding higher up your thigh. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. I bet you're dripping wet, aren't you?"

You whimpered softly, unable to form words. Steve's fingers ghosted over your clit, making you jerk slightly in Bucky's lap. Bucky's grip on your hip tightened in warning.

"Answer him," Bucky’s town was low but sharp.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I'm wet."

Steve's smirk widened. "Of course you are. Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet." His fingers continued their teasing exploration, circling your clit with feather-light touches. "You're going to learn to crave this, sweetheart. To need us."

A soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction. Bucky's grip tightened further, holding you still.

"Ah ah," he chided softly. "I said don't move unless I tell you to."

"S-sorry," you gasped, trying to regain control of your body.

Steve chuckled, his fingers never ceasing their torturous ministrations, tracing where you were stretched around Bucky's cock. The dual sensation of being filled by Bucky and teased by Steve was overwhelming. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more friction.

Bucky gave a warning slap to your ass, and you hissed from the sting.

You froze, trying desperately to stay still despite the sensations overwhelming you. Tears pricked at your eyes from the effort and the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

"Shh, it's okay," Steve soothed, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "We know it's hard for you. You're doing so well."

His praise sent another surge of arousal through you, making you clench around Bucky's cock. Bucky groaned softly, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Such a responsive little thing," he murmured, nuzzling against your neck. "We're going to have so much fun with you."

Steve's fingers continued their teasing, circling your clit with maddeningly light touches. Your thighs trembled with the effort of staying still, your breath coming in short gasps.

Steve's eyes glinted with amusement. "I think our girl needs a lesson in true self-control, Buck. What do you say?"

Bucky nodded, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Couldn't agree more."

Your heart raced as you looked between them, uncertain of what they had in mind. Steve stood, towering over you, and began unbuckling his belt. The sound of leather sliding through fabric loops made you shiver.

"Open your mouth, little lark," Steve commanded, his voice low and husky.

You hesitated, glancing at Bucky, who gave you an encouraging nod. Slowly, you parted your lips, your breath coming in short, shallow pants.

Steve guided his cock to your mouth, rubbing the tip against your lips. "You're going to take me in your mouth while staying perfectly still on Bucky's cock.”

You trembled as Steve's thick length slid past your lips. The taste of him, musky and slightly salty, filled your senses. You struggled to relax your jaw, to accommodate his impressive size, fighting against how it ached from taking them both in your mouth in turns last night, too.

"That's it, sweetheart," Steve murmured, one hand tangling in your hair. "Nice and slow. Use your tongue."

You did as instructed, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he pushed deeper into your mouth. All the while, you fought to keep your hips still, Bucky's cock a constant, throbbing presence inside you.

Bucky's hands roamed your body, teasing and caressing, kneading the fleshy parts of you everywhere, as ravenous for your hips as your stomach, your chest, your ass, your thighs . He cupped your breasts through your blouse, thumbs brushing over your nipples. The dual sensations - Steve in your mouth, Bucky inside you and touching you - were overwhelming.

"Look at her, Buck," Steve's voice was thick with desire as he slowly thrust into your mouth. "Look at how well she's taking us both. Such a good little cockwarmer."

You whimpered around Steve's length, the praise sending another surge of arousal through you. Your body trembled with the effort of staying still, every muscle taut as you fought against the urge to move.

Bucky's hands continued their exploration, one sliding beneath your blouse to palm your breast directly. His thumb brushed over your nipple, making you gasp around Steve's cock.

"That's it," Steve encouraged, his grip in your hair tightening slightly. "Just relax and let us use you. This is what you're made for."

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mix of shame and arousal overwhelming you. You felt split open, exposed, caught between these two powerful men who seemed determined to consume and control you.

The plane suddenly hit a patch of turbulence, jostling everyone. You gasped and instinctively clenched around Bucky, causing him to groan. Steve's cock slipped from your mouth as you struggled to maintain your balance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you began, panic rising in your chest.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, his hand gentle at the back of your neck. "That wasn't your fault."

Bucky's hands steadied you on his lap. "Deep breaths, little lark. You're doing so well."

Their unexpected gentleness made your eyes sting with unshed tears. You took a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself.

"Now, where were we?" Steve mused, guiding his cock back to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart."

You parted your lips obediently and Steve pushed in again, but even deeper into your mouth, the head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. Your jaw ached, stretched wide around his girth. Bucky's hands continued to roam your body, teasing and tormenting, while his cock remained buried inside you. The dual sensations were overwhelming, pleasure and discomfort blurring together.

"Such a good girl," Steve murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Taking us both so well." You whimpered around his length, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Gorgeous,” he added, letting his other hand play through your tear tracks.

The praise sent another surge of arousal through you, your body betraying you once again as you clenched around Bucky's cock. Bucky chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel how wet you are, little lark. Your body knows what it needs, even if you’re reluctant to accept your new life. But you’re dripping for us, desperate.”

You felt your face burn with shame at Bucky's words, knowing they were true. Despite your fear and uncertainty, your body was responding eagerly to their touch, craving more. Steve continued to thrust slowly into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You struggled to breathe through your nose, tears streaming down your face.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly. You raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. "That's it. I want to see those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth."

A muffled whimper escaped you, the dual sensations of Steve's cock in your mouth and Bucky's inside you becoming consuming every fiber of your being, every ounce of your existence.

Steve's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more insistent. You struggled to keep up, your jaw aching as you tried to accommodate his impressive girth. His blue eyes, dark with desire, never left yours as he fucked your mouth with increasing fervor.

"That's it, little lark," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly. "Take it all."

You could feel him swelling, growing impossibly harder on your tongue. The taste of him intensified - salty, musky, undeniably male. Your senses were overwhelmed, filled with nothing but Steve and Bucky.

Steve's breathing grew ragged, his thrusts more erratic. "I'm close," he warned, his grip tightening in your hair. "You're going to swallow every drop, understand?"

You whimpered around his cock, tears streaming down your face.

Bucky's hands continued their torturous exploration of your body, one hand kneading your breast while the other slipped between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with maddening lightness. You moaned around Steve's cock, your hips twitching involuntarily.

"Ah ah," Bucky chided, stilling his movements. You mewled in protest of losing his ministrations to your throbbing clit, but in the next instant, Steve’s hips jerked forward, and he groaned, burying his cock deep in your throat as he began to climax. The first pulse of his release hit the back of your throat, hot and thick. You struggled not to gag, tears streaming down your face as you fought to swallow around his length.

"That's it," Steve growled, his voice strained. "Take it all."

Wave after wave of his seed flooded your mouth, coating your tongue with its salty-sweet flavor. You swallowed frantically, trying to keep up with the copious amount. Some escaped the corners of your lips, trickling down your chin.

Steve's hand tightened at the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he continued to empty himself into your mouth. The taste, the scent, the feeling of being so thoroughly used - it all overwhelmed your senses.

As Steve's release finally subsided, he slowly withdrew from your mouth, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. You gasped for air, your jaw aching and your throat raw. Steve's thumb brushed over your swollen lips, smearing the mixture of his seed and your saliva.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. "You took it all so well."

Bucky's fingers resumed their torture of your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You trembled in his lap, fighting against the urge to move, to seek more friction.

"I think our little lark deserves a reward, don't you, Steve?" Bucky's voice was husky in your ear.

Steve nodded, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't agree more."

Before you could process what was happening, Bucky's hands gripped your hips, and he fucked up into you, violently, but you welcomed it with a debauched moan, clutching tightly to his shoulders as he drove into your aching, needy cunt.

Bucky's pace was relentless, his cock driving into you with bruising force. Your head fell back, a strangled cry escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through your body. The change from stillness to frenzied movement was jarring, overwhelming your senses.

Each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your head fell back, mouth open in a groan of ecstasy as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. The cabin filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

"That's it, little lark," Bucky growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Sing for us. Let us hear your pretty sounds."

Steve's hand came to rest on your throat, not squeezing, just a gentle pressure. A reminder of his presence, of his control. "You're ours now," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "Every sound, every reaction - it all belongs to us."

You whimpered, caught between shame and arousal. Your body responded eagerly to their touches, to their words, even as your mind reeled with the implications of your new reality.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Taking Bucky's cock so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You couldn't form words, could only whimper and nod as Bucky continued his merciless assault on your senses. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

"Tell us," Bucky demanded, his grip on your hips tightening. "Tell us how much you love it."

"I-I love it!” you cried.

Without warning, Steve plunged a finger into your ass, and the shock and overwhelming sensation sent you careening into a blinding orgasm. The clenching and convulsion of your cunt made Bucky jerk and then drill into you even faster, spilling his release in height of your climax.

You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Steve began soothing your back, petting up and down, cooing more soft praises as you struggled to stay coherent.

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, you collapsed against Bucky's chest, trembling and gasping for air. Your mind was a haze of pleasure and confusion, your body wrung out and oversensitive. Bucky's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he softened inside you.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You did so well."

Steve's hand continued its soothing motion along your back. "Beautiful," he added, his voice low and appreciative.

You felt tears pricking at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened and the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Shame, arousal, fear, and a strange sense of... belonging? It was all too much.

"Shh, it's alright," Steve soothed, sensing your distress. "Let it out.”

After a few more minutes, once your breathing had finally returned to normal, you pushed back from Bucky’s chest, and made to move off his lap.

He tsked at you and frowned.

"Not yet, little lark," Bucky murmured, keeping you firmly seated on his lap. "I want you to feel me inside you a bit longer. Let it sink in who you belong to now."

You shivered at his words, acutely aware of his softening cock still nestled within you, still so big inside you. Your body felt boneless, wrung out from the intensity of your orgasm, and the sticky mix of your combined spend was weeping slightly around his cock, and you could feel it.

Steve's hand came to rest on the back of your neck, a gentle but possessive touch. "We're going to take such good care of you," he reminded, his voice low and soothing. "You'll want for nothing."

You nodded weakly, unable to form words. Your mind was still reeling, trying to process everything that had happened. You felt fresh tears welling up, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation and your own conflicted emotions. Part of you wanted to fight, to rebel against this new reality they were forcing upon you. But another part - a part that grew stronger with each passing moment - craved their touch, their approval.

"Look at me," Steve commanded softly, finally taking the seat again next to Bucky.

Hesitantly, you raised your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire, but there was also a hint of something else - possessiveness, perhaps even tenderness.

"You're ours now," he said, his voice low and firm. "Everything about you belongs to us - your body, your pleasure, your pain. We'll push you to your limits and beyond, but we'll also take care of you in ways you've never imagined."

You shivered at his words, feeling a mix of fear and anticipation. Bucky's hands stroked soothingly along your sides, a stark contrast to the bruising grip he'd had on your hips moments ago.

"We know this is a lot to take in," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "You'll learn to love it. To crave it."

As if to emphasize his point, he shifted slightly, and a soft moan left your lips.

Steve leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek. "Remember, little lark. Pleasure or pain - the choice is yours."

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Bucky drew a finger over your sapphire pendant, and Steve kissed you, licking into your mouth to taste his tang on your tongue. He didn’t relent until you were gasping for air. Then Bucky kissed your cheek, and Steve pushed your head gently down onto Bucky’s shoulder once more.

And the two resumed their business and idle chatter, while you floated away, exhausted, and your body gave way to peace while you could claim it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

NEXT PART: Bird Home in the Darkness

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

“It’s a,” and here Cody bites his lips, scratches the side of his nose.

“A?” Obi-Wan prompts gently. Keldabe Kiss doesn’t, objectively, sound too dirty. What’s in a name etc. but when Cody had said, if Obi-Wan is game, they could try something, Obi-Wan had kept his expectations open.

“It’s a headbutt,” Cody wrings out of himself after another few seconds.

On the list of things Obi-Wan had, after all, expected to some degree, this isn’t one of them. He keeps silent. “You want to give me a concussion?” He’s great at being silent, turns out. “Or vice versa?”

Cody is already shaking his head, foot gently shoving his helmet further away from them. “No! It’s a sign of affection…”

Only in the Mandalorian culture, Obi-Wan thinks fondly. “Explain it to me,” he signs, eyes crinkling despite himself.

Cody huffs, leans back against the wall behind his bunk. Most of his armor is stacked on its stand. The helmet on the floor near them because Cody had been fiddling with the antennas when he’d gripped it with both hands, stared at the visor, and asked if Obi-Wan knew what a Keldabe Kiss was.

Obi-Wan sits cross-legged in front of him, restless fingers playing with the starched to death blanket. The mask is on and he wishes it weren’t. The last engagement had knocked the air right out of his lungs when a Hyena-class suddenly dropped down on them and delivered proton bombs on mass. He ended up gasping and on his back after the action was over, so for now the mask stays on.

Cody adjusts the hem on the t-shirt he’s wearing, the bandage no longer peeking out when he’s done. “I’m stalling.”

“I noticed,” Obi-Wan signs back, knocks his shin against Cody’s and lets it rest there.

“Growing up,” Cody begins after a few long moments where he’s watched their legs touch, “we’d sometimes see the Template put his forehead against Boba’s. Gently,” he adds, crooked smile for Obi-Wan’s concussion related fears. His voice turns wistful and Obi-Wan’s heart aches. “We didn’t— most of us didn’t want to be in his place. The Template hadn’t been popular with the clones long before he rejected us. But something about that gesture…”

The gentleness of it in contrast to the cold, neutral environment they’d been growing up in. The obvious affection of it had been calling them. One of the trainers had let it drop what it was named. And over time they had been able to put together a definition.

“You headbutt your enemy to get out of close quarters engagement,” Cody explains. “You have to be aware how you hit them so you don’t injure yourself while inflicting the maximum amount of damage to your opponent.”

“Is that why your nose is a bit,” Obi-Wan signs, pointing at the crook of his own nose just above the mask.

“Wolffe’s head is harder than his bucket,” Cody mutters, thumb stroking over Obi-Wan’s ankle absently.

The other definition, the one the clones had mostly embraced, the one that brought warmth and solidarity into their midst when no one else provided it, that one was based on affection. Clacking your helmets together after the heat of a battle, a job well done. Bringing your foreheads together to be there, to mourn together, to show the other isn’t alone. To remind the other they’re loved.

“It’s also a proxy for a kiss,” Cody explains, color high in his cheeks which makes Obi-Wan’s heart squirm in his chest. They’ve had sex a few possible and impossible ways and yet Cody is blushing over explaining a kiss. It’s sweet and touching and— “You can’t kiss when you wear buckets,” Cody says, “and sometimes you can’t kiss at all for various reasons. So it’s— it’s a kiss by proxy,” he ends, shrugging helplessly and aborted.

Obi-Wan waits as the question builds up inside Cody, firming the strokes of his thumb, the determination in his spine. He waits while Cody is stealing his breath.

“Can I kiss you?”

[sscieloz]

Late night halloween interruptions

Yoo Jimin x Producer!reader

Synopsis: being one of Aespa’s main producers and songwriters meant having to work restlessly to deliver the best track of the year— even if it meant sacrificing a Halloween night out. however, focusing on work turns out to be rather difficult when a certain blonde idol keeps distracting you from your goals.

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: you better wish I have a great fckn test thursday and friday. plus I didn’t proofread it and I WILL NOT. I still stuck at writing smut and I’m angry. also happy early halloween <3 blonderina lives forever in my mind and now in yours, too. ps: this was originally dom!reader but I changed my mind so it’s just a mess.

You were busy with the computer in front of you when you heard the click of the door, despite your heavy headphones. The soft, almost unnoticeable sound made you turn your chair to face the stranger who disturbed your work and dared to annoy you long after your work hours, late at night at the firm.

It wasn’t a total stranger, though. Staring back at you was Yoo Jimin, looking as angelic as always with her plump, rosy lips and porcelain skin. She had a sneaky smile on her face, tracing your desk with her featherlight fingers as she looked for any signs of dust.

“What do you want, Karina?” Your words came out harsh, unlike you intended to, but you still didn’t apologize. You could feel the tiredness wearing down your bones, the disturbance reminding you of the reason you were up so late in one of the company’s many music studios in the first place: so you wouldn’t be bothered at all.

Yet, she found you. You didn’t expect any less, with Karina hunting you down ever since she first laid her eyes on you, the day you were announced as one of the songwriters and record producers for the group’s latest comeback. Being only four years older, your lack of age made it easy to bond with all the girls: it gave them confidence to join in the making of their songs, too, getting deeply involved in the whole process of their comeback. The four band members trusted you and loved having you around, confiding their feelings and running to you whenever they felt bad or insecure. They all looked up to you— you knew it as much, and because of that, you were always pushing yourself to be the best, hardworking version of yourself you could.

Which was why you were always making sure to listen to their wishes and give them feedbacks on their ideas, so they’d grow as idols and song producers. You might not be as old in age as most of the producers in the industry, but you’ve already had your handful of successful collabs with well-known artists who did nothing but essentially praise you: you were skilled, and knew what you were doing, so it was only natural you exchanged some of your experiences with the girls.

Nonetheless, said closeness allowed the blonde girl to often stare at you like you were the only possible prey for a wolf who’s never eaten in its entire existence. Provocative dances, gifting your coffee orders each morning, stupid questions that kept you busy with her for hours, when you should be working… She certainly made your life difficult, toying with you while you tried as hard as you could not to indulge the idol. It was forbidden for employees to hook up with the company’s celebrities, after all, and you couldn’t risk losing your job.

“Good night to you, too, Y/n.” She greeted you, eyes darting around the place attentively. To make sure you were alone, most certainly. Jimin’s eyes lit up when her assumptions turned out right, happy to see you weren’t hiding some low-class hookup in the room. No, she’d have none of that. “I was just looking for you. You’re missing from the party.”

SM’s traditional Halloween party, currently happening many levels down the recording and mixing room, was one of the many fancy ballrooms hosted by the company at any given chance with intents to show off its supremacy and, of course, hegemony in the musical field. Your friends and coworkers tried getting you to attend multiple times, but you had shrugged them off. You liked hanging out with them, naturally, but not enough to put on a stupid costume and make small talk with preposterous, shallow people for hours straight. So you denied all the invites, knowing your presence wouldn’t be missed at all: they knew how to party by themselves, beyond everything.

As Karina reminded you of the current event, you took some time to take a proper look at her. Wearing a corset that enunciated her curves and the traditional red cape, along with heavy, black makeup contrasting perfectly with her long, blonde hair, Karina was impeccably dressed as Red Riding Hood. She’d even brought the damn basket with her, currently left hanging in the corner of the room.

She’d grown accustomed to the idol life, you noticed as the blonde stared at you with delight and confidence, certainly not innocent nor shy anymore as when she met you, nearly two years ago.

The old Karina would never wear such a thing. It made her stand out too much, and she loathed it, to have all of the attention and the stares focused solely on her. You still remember that same girl at last year’s Halloween party: dressed as a witch, wearing one of Minjeong’s old costumes, observing the older subaenims and idols with curious, scared doe eyes. Innocent, even.

And the young woman who looked at you like she was ready to devour you whole was anything but.

Karina didn’t mind your lack of manners, though. Leaning on your mixing table as if she owned it, she tried again, “Aren’t you coming to the party? Really? Come on, it’s Halloween! Don’t be so boring and live life for once, for God’s sake.”

You scoffed, coughing hard enough that you had to take a sip of your water to cool yourself, “The party’s for idols and shareholders.”

“And employees too, silly head.” She answered just as quickly, with a broad smile, dismissing all the dryness in your tone. This time, the look in her eyes reminded you of the Karina she truly was: tender, cautious, almost delicate. “I have a spare outfit, in case you want to keep the theme. You’d be the wolf, then.”

You turned your computer off, narrowing your eyes at her. Her intentions weren’t subtle: it was just as clear as clear water for anyone to see, but you couldn’t help it. You just had to have her begging.

For months, you’ve imagined what those pretty lips would look like all messed up with your juices, bruised from your bites and kisses. The thought of it being forbidden only fuels you with the need to ruin her even more. It makes you itch with how much you want to carve your name onto her skin, leaving her as nothing but a whimpering mess until no one— not even herself, could please her anymore. Only you would be capable of bringing her over the edge, from then. Your most feverish wish was to ruin her for anyone else.

You wouldn’t do it, though. It was forbidden, as said before, and you could lose your job for that. So, naturally, you wouldn’t.

She was fucking testing you, though.

“What do you want, Karina?” You repeated yourself, tone incisive, and yet she didn’t let go.

She was having fun with her girls before searching for you. It was her first year attending the party as an official idol, just as she’d always dreamed of. Nothing would piss her off, and she would get what she wanted.

And currently, what she wanted was to have the pretty producer everyone was whispering about around the hallways all to herself.

“It’s Jimin to you, Y/n.” She mumbled, brushing her legs over your arms. Her touch was gentle and patient, making you close your hands into fists to avoid pulling her by the ankles and taking her right in the mixing table. “And I just wanted to check if you wanted to have fun.”

“And it is unnie for you, dearest.” You reminded her, making the girl roll her eyes. She always made sure to forget to use honorifics when alone with you. “I am your producer, darling.” You added, pushing your chair a bit further and managing to keep some distance between the two of you. “So drop whatever plans you have and find someone else to toy with. I’m not falling for it, baby.”

No matter how desperately you wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless.

Your words made her irritated, with Karina’s angelic face furrowing into an angry pout, as it often did when people didn’t immediately indulge her wishes.

A Spoiled princess, indeed.

“Come on, drop that superior shit.” She rolled her eyes, laying on her elbows without a care about the number of electronics placed over the mixing table. The angle favored her costume, and her perfect breasts, just as intended. You gulped, trying hard not to stare, knowing you’d be doomed if you did.

It was nearly impossible, though. To not drop to your knees and immediately indulge to all her wishes. Karina had always had this sweet, dangerous nature: with light kisses and faked innocency, she toyed with people as she wanted, making them give her it all, which they’d always gladly do. How could they not? When she was so polite and attentive, making sure to pay attention to whatever shit they were saying as if it were the most interesting matter in the world.

You know her better than that, though. Better than to participate in her game, no matter how fucking hot she looked.

You’ve always been told it was hard to know what went through your mind, since your face was always blank and serious, almost disinterested. Taking advantage of that, you smiled back at the defiant girl in front of you, placing your arms in each of her sides, but careful not to touch her.

The anticipation drove her crazy, you knew that much as you felt her shiver under you.

Karina hated how, at the moment, she was the one who felt like the prey. Although it thrilled her to feel like she was not fully in control of the situation, it also irritated her for a bit. However, she knew she’d get what she wanted in the end, of course, so she didn’t mind playing with her food for a bit.

“What do you want, darling?” You repeated yourself, using the same indulgent tone you do when talking to her and the girls about their new songs.

Patient, sweet, and attentive, just like you were during work hours and outside of them.

“I wanted to know if you were going to have some fun, finally. But I see the years have made you as boring as the others. Come on, unnie! Don’t I look pretty?” She managed to recompose herself, returning your smile with a venomous one.

“I won’t pamper you. If that’s what you want, go to your little followers. They’d be more than happy to tell you lies.” Your face was so close to hers, yet your words stated the opposite of how you felt.

Truthfully, your cunt ached, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid Karina might hear.

That little prey-game aroused you just as much as it did to her. It was a euphoric feeling, one that blew out your pupils and made the blood run through your veins, giving you that good kind of rush. Only Karina could make you feel such emotions without even touching you.

She was fucking gorgeous, and you wanted every single inch of her for yourself.

“So I’m not beautiful tonight?” She batted her lashes, arms resting on her sides like a crystal princess. “I’ve tried my best to look pretty. I’ve always wanted to be Red for Halloween, after all.”

“Do you like to be a prey, Jimin?” You opened a teasing smile, no longer sustaining your uninterested persona. Your fingers teased her collarbone, making the girl drop her head back to appreciate the touch.

You were doomed. Likewise, you knew that the moment she entered the room.

“To be desired.” She corrected, hands comfortably on your arms like she’s been doing this forever. “Chased, even. It’s fun.” She faced you, suddenly serious. “Will we have fun, Y/n-nie?” Those innocent fucking doe eyes of hers, staring expectantly at you.

You sigh, pulling her onto your lap as you inhaled her sickening perfume. Dangerous and sweet, lingering on her skin. You’d soon make it disappear, leaving her whole body drenched in sweat.

Just as she planned for you to.

Grabbing her beautiful corset, you took your time untying the lace before finally looking at her delicate frame.

God, you were going to ruin her little body entirely, until she was writhing and yelling for you to stop. “One time, and one time only. Got it?” She nodded, seaming pleased enough with your answer.

She’d carve her way onto your brain nice and slow, no worries. So, for now, a one-night stand would suffice.

“Just this once.” She hid her face in the crook of your neck, giggling with delight to have her wishes granted.

You finally gave in to your carnal wishes and kissed her, hard and urgently. You’d let her win, just once.

Because it’s Halloween, and she is indeed the most beautiful fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

-

“H-harder, Y/n. Fuck!” Karina moaned loudly, nails scratching your back to the point where thick red lines adorned your whole back. “Deeper, now.”

Like a queen, she demanded, making you roll your eyes. Her face was all fucked out, her hair unraveled and sweaty from the pounding, and she was absolutely sure her hips, ass and thighs would be all bruised from the way you were gripping them, carving the strap onto her as you made Karina your own personal fucktoy.

“You’re sure too demanding for someone someone who was begging to be filled minutes ago.” You taunted, carving yourself into the girl even deeper. Her hands were interlocked on your neck and her legs did the same to your waist, trying to steady herself at the intensity. “You know how much of a whore you are, right? Going up all those floors by yourself with that fucking strap in your basket just so I could have free use of all your holes.”

“Shut up.” She squeezed her eyes, gasping for air as your hands blocked her pulse point, down her neck. “God, you’re so full of yourself.”

You laughed at her brattiness: she’d never give up, truly. Removing your hands from her skin, you opened her thighs so the strap could reach deeper onto her sweet spot— which it clearly did, as Karina announced so herself. Her wetness was nearly drenching the whole table, making the sound of your thrusts even louder as you placed your fingers on her clit, not yet moving but applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Keep acting up and you won’t get to cum.” You told her, your free hand going up to pinch one of her voluptuous breasts. They were so bouncy and pretty, you just wanted to suck and mark them until there was not a visible inch of her milky skin that wasn’t covered in bruises.

Karina opened her dark eyes, being surprisingly gentle as her teeth scratched your lips. She sucked on your lower lip and, before you had any time to acknowledge, she bit it hard. You drew back, surprised, making her laugh.

“Oh, Y/n-nie,” She licked the blood from your lips, smiling at your reaction. With an unfazed gaze, the girl guided your wrist on her clit, urging you to play with it faster and even harder. She gave your cheek a little kiss, too, adding, “You’re damn cute when you think you’re the one in control.”

You hummed, deciding to focus on Karina’s pleasure instead of indulging the silly provocations she so adored to lead on. With that, you did as told, paying extra attention to her little hole as you returned to your pace, circling and toying with the blonde’s swollen sex until her body began to tremble and she collapsed under you, reaching her orgasm unannounced. You fucked her through it, allowing the dancer to gather her breath and enjoy the final hum of sensations.

Even completely flustered, Karina still looked gorgeous: her body all marked and bruised, a piece of art— your art, and her cunt wet and swollen, still all opened and ready for you.

“You look too pretty like this.” You breathed, verbalizing your thoughts before thinking straight, to which she let out a smile, extending her hand so you’d help her hop off the table.

“I know.” The girl playfully winked at you as her arms found your waist, embracing you in an spontaneous hug.

Of course, you should’ve guessed nothing Karina does is ever not carefully planned. In a second, you find yourself sitting on your chair and she was all over you, now taking her turn into marking her territory. Her mouth sucked and nibbled your clavicle until a line of hickeys are proudly shown, along with her scratches. You don’t mind, though. In fact, you love to have her using you as she wishes, her possessiveness heating up your core at each dirty thing she told you.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself, too, you know.” Although her tone is light, the murmur that follows is dense and drenched in possessiveness, “We’ll have to fix that, soon. No one can stare at my pretty toy like they currently do.”

“You wish, Karina.”

“I do, my love.” She licked her lips, groping your body like a woman starved. “Now lay down for me, will you? I’m quite hungry, and I need a taste of you.”

You scoffed at her words and the excessive sweetness in her tone, but as always, did as told.

Just for tonight, you reminded yourself. You’d relent to her wishes just for tonight. And only because it was Halloween, and you were working hard. You deserved a treat.

[kingkatsuki]

— when you get him a birthday cake

Masterlist.

It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺

Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.7k.

Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).

But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.

How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?

Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.

By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.

“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.

“I left you a coffee on your desk.”

God, you really were the best part about his day.

You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.

It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.

“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.

Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.

“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.

Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.

And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.

“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.

“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”

“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.

“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”

You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.

“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”

“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”

“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”

You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.

“It looks like shit.” He smirked.

“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.

“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”

It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.

“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”

“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”

“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.

“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.

“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”

He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.

“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.

“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.

If he could ever tell you.

[thesassypadawan]

Ask Nicely (Master Anakin x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: Somedays you think your new master hates you and others… Well, let’s just say, you find out soon enough…when he expresses his disdain for you asking Obi-Wan nicely to take care of your needs.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Jealous Skyguy, rough fingering/kisses…and Ani’s thick digits. Padawan Reader is of age, 5 years younger than him.

“What’s the big deal? All I did was train with Master Kenobi,” you huffed. Rolling your eyes so hard that you wondered if they’d get stuck like that.

Anakin had been lecturing you nonstop for the last half hour. Starting from the minute he had practically dragged you out of the dojo…through the temple halls…back to your shared quarters. His strong hand wrapped firmly around your arm the whole way.

“For the fourth time this week,” he growled. Arms crossed as he leaned in the doorway, a frown on his face. “As your master, it’s my responsibility-”

“And you’re doing such a great job…” Having shed the last of your sweat soaked clothes, you began rummaging through your drawers. Back turned to him, not caring that you were standing there in only your undergarments. “…of neglecting those duties.”

You weren’t in the wrong, not in the very least. The two of you never had the greatest of relationships or, for that matter, one really at all. Constantly arguing and fighting, butting heads over anything and everything. Which grew worse when you abruptly became his padawan learner; to the point where you were verily certain that he hated you.

Or there was always something else that led you, made you want to believe…

Capturing your elbow, he easily whirled your around. “Listen here, it’s not my fault-”

“No, it is!” You snapped; jabbing your finger into his chest, refusing to stepdown. “You’re the whole reason why I have to go ask Obi-Wan nicely to help take care of my needs!”

Clearly striking a nerve, you watched as Ani’s jaw clenched tighter. Eyes narrowing at you, something dark flickering inside them. “Careful now; you don’t know-”

“Actually, I think I do,” you boldly interrupted once more. Mouth curling up into a sly grin, because you knew what you said next would anger him enough to either silence or… “You’re jealous! You can’t stand the idea of another man…let alone your old master…touching my body! Guiding me, teaching me how to move in ways that you aren’t able to!”

“Little one,” he snarled in warning. Shoving you back against the dresser, pinning you in place. Towering over your smaller frame menacingly.

You should have been terrified, horrified. Despite this though, you kept goading Anakin. “And his big hands felt so good resting on my hips… His fat cock pressing into my ass…”

Before you could continue, you were cut off by a quick, invisible squeeze to your neck. One that left you briefly stunned, speechless. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see what you have to say about Obi-Wan after I’m done teaching you.”

Not even a second later and his mouth was slotted against yours in a fiery kiss. Biting sharply at your bottom lip, demanding entrance. All the while his mechno hand found its way to your breast, tearing the bindings off like they were nothing.

The moment the cold air hit your exposed nipples, you let out a small whimper. Allowing Ani to slip his tongue in, wrestling with and pinning yours down. Showing you who was in control, attempting to force you into submission.

You tried to pull away, but he held you fast to him. Organic hand gripping the back of your head, long fingers tangling and tugging your hair roughly. The other delivering a solid slap to each tit before he finally decided it was time to break apart.

Gasping, coughing for air. A desperate whine escaped you as he trailed his lips down your jaw, your throat; leaving an array of lovely marks in their wake. Until they wrapped themselves around a pebbled bud; sucking hungrily, biting lightly when your back arched in response. “M-Mast-ter.”

While he lavished your chest with hot kisses, Anakin’s hand followed the curves of your body. Brushing your clothed mound, chuckling once he felt how drenched you were. “Would you look at that; already so wet for me. Bet the old bastard can’t get you like this…”

Nipping a sensitive nub one last time, he had risen back up. Hand grasping your chin tightly, lips crashing against your in another searing kiss. Making you mewl softly, body trembling in anticipation.

“…or sound like that,” he growled low. Suddenly yanking your panties to the side, plunging two leather clad fingers into your cunt.

Squealing, you clenched hard around him. Walls fluttering from the foreign sensation, from being stuffed so full. Hips rocking back and forth in time with his painfully slow pumps. A squelching sound filling the air.

Wanting and craving more. All that pent up frustration had you already so embarrassingly close to crashing over the edge. That you were reduced to a mere babbling mess when Ani abandoned your mouth and pressed his lips to your neck again. Kissing the junction of it and your shoulder, tongue lapping at the tender flesh. A pleasant shiver running down your spine. “P-please…please…”

His pace picked up, thick digits thrusting deep with you. Bullying and bruising your cervix, muttering. “Oh, are you close? You want to cum?”

Panting, you nodded frantically. The heat inside of you overwhelming while you lost touch with reality more and more from each drive.

“Words,” he demanded. Adding the remaining two, slamming them brutally into your packed pussy. “Use them.”

“Yes, s-so close!” You squeaked, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “L-let me c-cum, master!”

At your words, he sunk his teeth in. Breaking the skin, hissing a ‘no’ as he abruptly withdrew his fingers. Pulling away, your fresh blood tinting his lips red.

A wild cry flew from your mouth. Sobbing at the denial, body sagging against the dresser. Hips bucking shamelessly in the air, trying to regain the pleasurable feelings that had been coursing through you.

Grabbing your ass, Anakin squeezed…smacked it hard. Smearing your slick across your freshly soiled panties. “Only good padawans get to do that…you haven’t been. Now, why don’t you try asking me nicely and maybe…I’ll help take care of your needs.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[plus-size-reader]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3628 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is closer to Aegon, which is unacceptable to Aemond, who is in love with her and always has been

(Disclaimer: I despise the brutality against women used as a plot device for 'entertainment' so any SA or ickiness regarding Aegon doesn't exist in my universe. He's still a burden on the realm and uber pathetic tho)

—————————————————————————————————

You had always cared for Aegon.

He could be challenging sometimes, you knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t change the fact that he was important to you. As children, he would share his toys with you and tell you stories of worlds far beyond this one.

Things changed as you got older, of course, but he was still Aegon. It didn’t matter how crass, cruel, or drunk he got.

He was your truest friend, and that meant that you were willing to put up with certain things for his sake.

At this moment, for example, you were listening to him drunkenly ramble about battle strategy and knights he figured he could best in combat over dinner. Did you particularly care about either of those things? Of course not.

…but Aegon did, so you listened all the same.

Just as the rest of his family did, because like it or not, he was the firstborn son and this kingdom was his to inherit.

One member of his family, in particular, was less than thrilled with this arrangement. At the other end of the table sat Aemond, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen, drinking from his own goblet to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

You had to be kidding.

Did you truly find his brother that interesting? It wasn’t possible that you actually believed him capable of besting Sir Harwin Strong in hand-to-hand combat. Aegon could hardly stand on his own most of the time.

He would die in a fight like that, and Aemond knew you were clever enough to know that. Still, you said nothing as he continued his rant.

You just kept listening, with a soft smile playing at your lips, as if his idiot brother wasn’t an embarrassment to his bloodline.

“I know for certain that I could have been a knight, the best knight there ever was” Aegon spouted, slurring his words lightly toward their end and earning a soft giggle from you as you imagined what that would look like.

It was a lie.

Aegon didn’t have what it took to be a knight by any stretch of the imagination but your laughter wasn’t so much about what he said. More than anything, it was about Aegon. He was drunk, as he so often was, but in moments like these, it didn’t matter.

This was how he’d been as a boy too, and that was the part that amused you. The slight glimpses of the dreamer he’d been before the world had robbed him of his right to dream.

Before he’d turned into nothing more than a man, seeking out his own pleasures, even at the expense of every other.

“I think I would quite like to see that” you mused, sipping from your own cup, though you weren’t anywhere near as under the influence as he was. You had been nursing the same goblet all night, one cup for Aegon’s seven.

It wasn’t really a challenge, but like he so often did, Aegon took it as one anyway.

“I would venture I could even beat Aemond, if he’d be brave enough to face me,” he added, shooting his brother a look that did sort of alarm you. It was beyond harmless musings about the knights of the realm and famed warriors.

This was a bit more personal, and you didn’t like where it was heading. “I could even cover an eye, make it fair for him”

Naturally, in his drunken state, Aegon’s movements were clumsy and rash but the implications when his left hand came up to cover his eye were just as impactful as they would have been if they’d been delivered sober.

You were silent for a moment, your gaze shifting between the future King’s lopsided grin and the sharp glare of his younger brother.

He knew that he’d been insulted, and you didn’t expect him to forgive it, but shot him a look anyway. It was small, but the message was clear.

You were asking him to ignore his brother’s ill conceived attempt at humor.

“Alright, perhaps you should slow down, Aegon” you suggested finally, resting your hand gingerly on his wrist, all but forcing the cup in his hand back to the table’s surface the moment he once again attempted to lift it to his mouth.

He had already been drinking most of the day and as the sun slowly retreated from the sky, it was certainly time to stop. Your fear for what he’d do if he didn’t was only furthering your insistence.

Not that you could make that clear outright.

“Y/N’s right, it’s about time for everyone to turn in” Alicent agreed, shooting you a thankful glance as she stood from the table, glad that she didn’t have to step in. The King had already gone back to his chambers, and with her leaving, everyone else was sure to follow suit.

Alicent had always been glad for the bond you shared with Aegon, though she didn’t understand it, especially in moments like this.

You were probably the only person who could have ever gotten him to do as you asked without the tantrum that normally followed. “Goodnight, your Grace” you called, watching as she and Helena retreated from the room, leaving you, Aegon and his brother alone in the room.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that Aemond was still watching you, his blue eye unwavering as he studied you, but you didn’t have time to figure out why.

Not before his brother once again pulled your attention to him instead.

“I’m not finished” Aegon tried, bringing the chalice back to his lips only for Aemond to scoff over your shoulder.

He would truly never understand how his brother had managed to survive this long, much less maintain his place in line for the throne. He had no real business being there, and he wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for his birthright.

Though that would just be among the list of things Aemond didn’t understand, like why you were so determined to take such good care of his pathetic brother, when you got nothing back in return.

Aegon would never show you the same courtesy, not in the way he would, had he been in his place.

“Yes you are, it’s time for bed” you spoke softly to your oldest friend, but your eyes had found their way across the table to Aemond and his now sour attitude.

It was no secret that he and his brother didn’t exactly get along, but you didn’t understand what had happened tonight that was any more irksome to him than any other night. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d insulted him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every night with Aegon was essentially the same, and no one was more used to that than Aemond was. Not even you.

“Will you take me?” the firstborn asked, that twisted smirk finding its way onto his face once more as he grinned, never ceasing his drinking even as he spoke about being done drinking.

Normally, one of the servant girls would be tasked with trying to get the future King to his chambers, but between his cheery mood this evening and the silent appreciation you’d gotten from the Queen, you figured you were up to the task tonight.

“If you promise to behave, I will take you” you agreed, finally reaching over to snag his cup from him completely, the stem held delicately between your fingers.

Again, Aemond found himself swallowing back more than just wine as he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

Did the two of you really have to do this every night? Aegon was married after all, and if his mother had anything to say about it, you would be too, soon enough.

It was so far beneath you.

In Aemond’s opinion, his ridiculous brother could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve a moment of your time, but clearly, his believing that wasn’t enough to convince you. At this point, he feared nothing would.

“Are you serious?” he finally called out, not even bothering to hide the ugly tone in his voice. It was practically dripping with emotions, but whether that was jealousy or disgust, he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps it was some mix of both.

“About what?” you hummed, your focus not leaving his brother even as you spoke to Aemond, ignoring the clear upset in his voice in favor of getting the future King to his feet.

Because even when he was speaking directly to you, Aegon was all you could ever give your attention to.

Aegon was basically dead weight when he drank like this, and it was going to be quite the task for you to get him into bed without accident. Not that the servant girls complained, each and every night when they took the job.

They simply did what needed to be done, and you weren’t about to be any different. Those girls deserved a break from his drunken antics for once.

“I could get someone to do that for you. It isn’t your job to make sure he gets to bed” This time, Aemond was sure to monitor the venom in his voice, fully aware that it wasn’t getting him anywhere anyway.

If Aegon had spoken to you like that, you would have stopped everything to assess its origin, but from Aemond, it was almost as if he hadn’t opened his mouth at all.

Why he even bothered at all at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured, draping the blonde’s arm over your shoulders and heading toward the door without a second look at his brother. The second son, the man who dreamed of taking care of you instead of forcing you to care for his every need.

The man who had been hopelessly pining over you for all the years you’d known him, but who you’d never once actually seen.

Left all alone at the table.

~

You were able to move quietly through the halls, finding Aegon much less drunk than you’d originally assumed once he got to his feet. His steps were clunky, and he’d been whisper-yelling in Valyrian at you the entire time, but he wasn’t totally helpless.

He’d had enough to fully give up on the pretense of his birthright, but not enough to be slobbering on your shoulder, which you had enough cause to be thankful for. In the past, he’d not been so gracious.

“Alright, go to sleep now Aegon,” you cooed, pulling the covers up over him and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “In the morning, we can take a walk around the garden”

The only answer to your suggestion came in the form of gentle snoring, which made you smile in spite of yourself as you left the room.

It seemed to you that the only time the prince got any peace was when he slept. He hadn’t always been that way, but as the days passed, you found it harder and harder to ignore the way the world was changing him.

You weren’t blind to the truth.

It was just as obvious to you that Aegon was a disaster as it was to everyone else. You knew that he was a coward and a fool and that the care you had for him was the only thing keeping you from sharing the ire for him that so many others felt.

You knew that, but the truth remained that he was your oldest friend and you loved him for that, despite his many flaws.

You were many things, and loyal seemed to be chief among them, even if sometimes you wondered if your faith in him was misplaced. Would Aegon be a good King? You weren’t sure, but you knew that you would be by his side until the day he proved undeserving.

The Lord’s chamber door closed softly behind you and gave way to a long dark hallway, which you maneuvered expertly. You had taken the walk between your chambers and Aegon’s a thousand times and you knew it like the back of your hand.

Still, you couldn’t account for everything.

For example, you never could have expected to be grabbed from your path until it happened, and you found yourself standing in an adjacent room instead of the long expanse of the hallway. You couldn’t see it that well, with only the moonlight streaming in through the window available to help orient yourself.

It wasn’t an altogether distinctive space at first glance, but it didn’t take you long to place it anyway.

The grasp your kidnapper had on your arms remained, even as the moments ticked by, and while it wasn’t tight or uncomfortable, it gave away the perpetrator in an instant.

Aemond.

No one else was capable of so much selfish aggression while also maintaining such a tight composure. No one else would have cause to take you from the hall, and certainly no one else would have the gull to do so.

Still, for whatever reason, apparently the blonde had decided to snatch you from your normal path and was now just holding you here, a foul look on his usually handsome face.

“Care to explain yourself, my Lord?” you scoffed, removing your arms from his grip as gently as you could, and trying to figure out what could have possibly gotten into him.

It didn’t make any sense.

Never had he attempted something like this before, and you couldn’t work out what was going on, no matter how hard you tried.

“My problem? My problem is that you couldn’t possibly be more of a fool” he started, essentially ignoring your justified response in favor of his own feelings.

He couldn’t watch it anymore.

It was bad enough that his brother was a bumbling idiot without any care for history or culture, or any actual skill. He couldn’t have the throne, the realm, and the affections of you.

That would simply be too much.

Especially when he deserved it so much more. .

“What are you talking about? How much did you have to drink tonight?” you wondered. You were used to Aemond being moody, and he could be unpredictable sometimes but never had he put his hands on you like this. Never had he spoken to you in such a way.

It didn’t make sense, and if you were being honest, you didn’t like it. This was something you wouldn’t have given a second thought coming from Aegon, but here, with Aemond in front of you, it confused you.

Aemond scoffed, clearly not finding your care for his well-being as endearing now that it was aimed at him. Even an hour earlier, he would have been thrilled to have even an ounce of your affection, but not now.

Now, it was almost an insult.

He was so tired of being the second son, and the second in line for everything. Just once, he wanted someone to pick him over his idiot brother.

“Not nearly enough. Perhaps if I drank more, you’d actually look me in the eye”

That got your attention.

You were silent for a moment as you considered his words, and what they could possibly mean in regards to this conversation.

It was an obvious jab at his brother, but it still didn’t help you understand what all this was about and you were torn. You didn’t know how long you were supposed to let this go on or how you were supposed to react.

On one hand, you never would have wanted Aemond to be upset but on the other, you couldn’t exactly explain being alone together in the dark, in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t technically allowed considering that you were both unmarried, and while the Queen was fond of you, you were certain she wouldn’t like this.

You sighed, taking in the distance, or lack therefore, of space between the two of you before you finally broke your silence. “Aemond, enough of this, what has you so upset?”

Your voice was soft as you spoke, hoping to get him to calm down enough to actually speak to you. He had always been the more rational of the brothers and he was certainly better at communicating.

It was one of your favorite things about him, but right now, he sounded like Aegon and you didn’t like that one bit either.

You put up with Aegon out of care for him and hope for the kind young boy you had once known him to be, but Aemond was better than that. You enjoyed his company, and the time you spent together was time you treasured.

You didn’t understand why he was so angry with you tonight.

“I don’t understand why you love him when he treats you so poorly. What has he ever done to deserve your affections?” he wondered, his tone matching yours almost instantly.

It hadn’t been his intention to yell at you, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to do, but one man could only take so much. At some point, he had to make it so that you saw who he was, and what he had to offer you.

Of course, Aemond would have preferred a heartfelt declaration of his feelings, in a room where he could actually see the sparkling of your eyes instead of this, but it was no matter.

Even if it had to be like this, little more than a hushed whisper under the cover of darkness, all that mattered was that you heard him.

…and what choice did you have after something like that? What had Aegon done to deserve your affections? You weren’t sure.

Granted, if you’d had time to think about it, you may have had a reason. You may have been able to explain the many reasons you’d chosen him as your closest friend but right now, you couldn’t think of a single thing.

All you could focus on was the way Aemond was peering down at you with so much intensity and the way his right hand had slowly snuck back up to your wrist at your side, fiddling with the fabric trim of your sleeve.

All you could see, and feel, was him in a way you’d never experienced before.

“I don’t know,'' you muttered finally, feeling a bit pathetic as you willed your brain to work properly. You had never once been stunned into silence by the presence of another person before, and it didn’t make any sense.

What had changed? You didn’t know. Apparently, in this moment, you didn’t know much of anything but instead of mocking you as Aegon would have, Aemond simply nodded.

That was what he thought.

You were so used to being devoted to his brother, and had been for so many years, that you didn’t even know why that was. You were so busy constantly doting on him, and dealing with his every thought and feeling that you didn’t realize it was meaningless.

“I could be so much more for you, if you’d only let me” Aemond’s words surrounded you the moment he spoke them, and like the crashing of waves, you realized what this was.

He wasn’t angry at all.

Aemond was hurt.

All this time, he was under the impression that the reason you remained by Aegon’s side was because of a longing, forever to be unfulfilled, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

You did not love Aegon, and it was not Aegon who made you feel as if you could breathe for the first time in all your life.

That title belonged to another, though he had clearly been just as blind to the truth as you had before now.

“I do care much for Aegon. He’s one of my oldest friends, but I have no desire to be with him,” you clarified, feeling the need to get that out in the open first and foremost. Getting a bit braver, you took his wandering hand in your own, giving it a testing squeeze.

It was so strange, knowing someone so well and not at all, all in the same moment.

Aemond tensed slightly at the touch, almost as if you’d struck him, largely because this wasn’t what he’d expected at all. In truth, he hadn’t had much time to consider anything at all regarding this conversation, but he never would have predicted this, not with all the time in the world.

“What do you desire?” he asked, his tone barely audible and inconceivably small as he tried to wrap his mind around how he’d gotten to this point.

You, the one he’d always dreamed of, were so close and yet still so far away. He felt as if he were to breathe, he may ruin it all, and that just wasn’t worth the risk.

Gingerly, you collected your thoughts, for once deciding to let your own desires out way those of everyone else.

Aegon didn’t matter, the opinions of the nobility didn’t matter, and really, Aemond didn’t either. In this moment, all that mattered was you and what you truly desired, stripped bare of all other things.

“I quite think I’d like to be cared for, for a while” you hummed, your voice equal parts certain and wavering as you tried to take a role you’d never known a day in your life.

If Aemond meant as he said, he would take care of you and that was something you desperately wanted. You just weren’t used to asking for the things you wanted, or even, needed. It wasn’t something someone of your standing had ever known.

…But, perhaps it was time to change all that.

[mpregtales]

Luke & Owen Part 5

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] ⬤

By the time Luke reached the final weeks of his pregnancy, the changes in his body were undeniable. His belly had grown into a full, round dome, stretching tightly against his skin, and his hips had broadened to accommodate the life growing inside him. His glutes had filled out even more, creating a noticeable sway in his walk. Despite his athletic build, Luke found himself slowing down, feeling the weight and responsibility in every step.

The weight of his brother-to-be pressed low into his pelvis, the baby’s head engaged and ready for birth. The sensation of his skin stretching was a constant reminder of how far along he was. Luke’s cheeks, fuller and rounder than they’d ever been, jiggled with every movement, his hips swaying with the newfound weight of his body. His belly was taut, his skin flushed and slick with sweat.

Coupled with the emotional intensity of being a surrogate, Luke’s contractions intensified as he approached the final hours of his pregnancy, the sensations deepening with every passing moment. His body, stretched and strained to its limits, was now ready to deliver the baby he had been carrying for nine months. The journey had been long and emotionally complex, and as he lay cradling his massive belly, Luke knew he would soon meet his baby brother.

The day had started with Braxton Hicks contractions, those familiar but irregular tightenings that had accompanied him for weeks now. But by the early afternoon, they had changed—becoming more frequent, more intense, more real. His belly, already large and heavy, had dropped significantly, the baby settling lower in preparation for birth. Each step Luke took was labored, his hips swaying under the weight of his enormous bump, the fullness of his glutes adding to the strain as they jiggled slightly with each movement.

As he sat in Owen’s dorm, Luke felt a strange sensation, unlike anything he’d experienced before—a deep, internal shift. It was as though the baby, his brother, was lowering into his pelvis, settling into position for the moment he’d been preparing for. Luke gasped softly, his hand instinctively going to his belly.

“What’s wrong?” Owen asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I think it’s starting,” Luke whispered. “I feel him… low, like he’s moving down.”

Within hours, the sensation intensified, contractions starting low in his abdomen and wrapping around his back like waves of pressure. Luke could feel his body preparing, the tightening around his belly making it clear that labor was beginning. As they sat in the living room, Owen’s hand massaging Luke’s lower back, there was a sudden warmth—his water had broken.

“Owen… it’s time,” Luke said, his voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside him.

They made their way to the hospital, Luke’s body already feeling the intense pressure of the contractions. Every step brought the baby lower, and with each contraction, the urge to push grew stronger. Owen stayed by his side, helping him through the early stages of labor as they prepared for the delivery.

The drive to the hospital blurred in Luke’s mind as the contractions intensified. By the time they arrived, the pressure in his pelvis was immense, and every contraction brought with it the unmistakable urge to push. Luke's massive belly hung low between his thickened legs as he was helped into the delivery room. His pecs, now fuller and more sensitive from the hormonal changes, quivered with each deep breath.

The nurses guided him to the water birthing tub that had been prepared for him, and the warm water provided immediate relief as he sank into it. Owen stood by his side, his hand never leaving Luke’s back, gently massaging the small of it to ease the tension in his trembling body.

Luke instinctively got on all fours in the water, his belly hanging heavily below him, the weight pressing down on his pelvis as the contractions grew stronger. He arched his back and pressed his mountainous cheeks out, feeling the baby shift lower. The sight of his massive glutes flexing with each push caught Owen’s eye. He couldn’t help but admire Luke’s strength, the way his body had thickened and grown to bring this life into the world.

As another contraction hit, Luke gripped the sides of the tub, the primal desire to push overwhelming him. His cheeks quivered as they flexed with the effort, the muscles straining to bring the baby down. Owen’s hands, now resting on Luke’s back and moving lower, massaged the trembling mounds of his cheeks, offering support and grounding him in the midst of the pain.

“You’re doing so well, Luke,” Owen whispered, his voice calm and steady.

Luke’s body, slick with sweat, responded instinctively to the encouragement. His glutes flexed again as he bore down, feeling the baby moving further into the birth canal. The intensity of the stretch was unlike anything he had ever felt before, the pressure growing as his entrance began to dilate.

As the contractions intensified, Luke’s strong muscles worked tirelessly, his back arching as he pushed. He could feel his entrance beginning to stretch, the baby’s head pressing down, creating a deep, burning sensation. Owen’s hands continued to offer reassurance, rubbing soothing circles on his quivering cheeks, grounding Luke in the moment.

With a deep breath, Luke bore down, his body responding to the first overwhelming urge to push from the beginning of the contraction. Luke instinctively reached back, parting his cheeks to reveal the growing bulge as his brother made his way into the world. His skin stretched taut, the sensation intense but powerful, as though his body was working in perfect harmony with the baby. The sensation of his skin stretching, his body making way for the baby, was almost surreal. The sight of the bulge forming between his cheeks filled the room with anticipation.

Luke’s face flushed with effort as he gasped, his hips instinctively shifting to find a more stable position. His massive belly tightened with each contraction, and his glutes quivered, jiggling slightly as he adjusted himself. Then, a deep cramp surged through him, a sensation that seemed to rise from the very core of his being. He hunkered down into a wide squat, his knees spreading apart to bear the weight and intensity of the moment.

His veins pulsed visibly under his skin as he pushed with all his strength, feeling his brother’s head slide lower, pressing into the birth canal. The burning stretch reached its peak as the head crowned fully, and Luke’s breathing became ragged. His face contorted with the overwhelming pressure and pain. “It hurts so much,” he gasped, his voice trembling, his hand instinctively reaching back to cup his gaping entrance, his fingertips brushing against the wet softness of the baby’s head.

Owen knelt beside him, his eyes filled with both awe and deep concern. He gently placed a hand on Luke’s back, his fingers lightly tracing the damp skin there. “You’re doing so well, Luke,” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. “Just breathe… you’re almost there. I’m right here. I love you.”

Luke nodded, taking a shaky breath, his focus narrowing to the task at hand as Owen’s words grounded him in the moment. The water around them rippled, turning cloudy as the baby’s head pressed further down, Luke’s body working tirelessly to bring his brother into the world.

Luke’s glutes felt tender, quivering between contractions, the tension in his body mounting as he held himself steady. He instinctively pushed his cheeks out further, the fullness of his brother’s head still holding him open, sticking out from his entrance. The sensation was overwhelming, but there was no turning back now.

Another contraction hit like a wave, more powerful than the last. Luke gasped, his breath catching as he bore down again, pushing with all his might. The baby’s head inched out further, his entrance stretching taut around it, the deep, burning ache radiating through his body. But Luke was determined to see it through. He could feel the life inside him—his brother—nearing the moment of birth.

His glutes flexed instinctively, muscles trembling with the intensity of the effort. Luke could feel the baby’s shoulders turning within him, preparing for the final descent. Adjusting his stance, his massive mounds jiggled slightly with the movement, and he braced himself for the final push.

Then, the last contraction hit. It was stronger than anything Luke had felt before, urging him to push with every ounce of strength he had left. He bore down with everything, gritting his teeth as the baby’s head finally emerged fully. His glutes flexed powerfully, the strain etched on his face, and he felt the baby’s body begin to slide free. For a moment, he held still, letting gravity do its work as he gasped for air.

But with one final, intense squeeze of his glutes, the baby’s shoulders slipped through, followed by the legs and feet. In an instant, the rest of his brother was born, emerging from his body in a rush of warm fluid. Luke’s massive bubble butt flexed one last time as each cheek jiggled with the release, his muscles finally able to relax after the monumental effort.

The relief was immediate and profound. Luke collapsed forward slightly, his body trembling from exhaustion as he felt the baby slip into the water. His cheeks jiggled one last time as the tension fully released from his body.

Luke’s body trembled with the aftermath of the monumental effort. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breath, feeling the intense relief wash over him now that his brother had been born. But the process wasn’t over yet. He could feel the subtle pressure of the placenta still inside him, a reminder that his body’s work was not entirely done.

A gentle contraction rippled through his lower belly, much weaker than the ones before, but enough to signal that the placenta was ready to be born. Luke’s body instinctively responded, his muscles clenching one final time as he gave a soft push. The sensation was different now—there was no longer the intense pressure of the baby, but rather a raw, tender feeling in his opening from the sheer effort of bringing life into the world.

The warm, slick sensation of the placenta slipping free from his body left Luke in awe. It was a final release, the last piece of the journey his body had endured for months. He felt lighter, his belly now much smaller and softer than it had been just moments ago. The emptiness was strange, yet it carried with it a profound sense of accomplishment. He had done it. He had carried, nurtured, and brought his baby brother into the world.

Luke’s hand instinctively moved to his belly, feeling the now-loose skin, the soft folds where a full, taut dome had been just minutes earlier. The rawness in his lower body was ever-present, a tender ache in his opening reminding him of the incredible feat his body had just performed. And despite the discomfort, despite the exhaustion, he felt a deep sense of wonder. His body had done this. It had created life and brought it forth. It was nothing short of miraculous.

The nurse, calm and efficient, reached into the water and lifted the baby, wiping him down gently before swaddling him in a soft blanket. With a warm smile, she handed the newborn to Luke, placing the tiny bundle in his arms.

As Luke cradled his baby brother, the tiny boy’s warm weight settled against his chest, he felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly overwhelmed him. The baby’s small, delicate face was peaceful now, his cries having subsided as he nuzzled into Luke’s skin. Tears welled up in Luke’s eyes as he looked down at him—this little life he had carried and protected for months, now safe and sound in his arms.

Owen leaned in beside him, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple. “He’s beautiful, Luke,” Owen whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it. You really did it.”

Luke’s heart swelled, and he looked at Owen, his own tears now falling freely. “We did it,” he whispered back, his voice trembling with awe and joy.

They shared a quiet moment, the three of them, wrapped in a cocoon of love and tenderness. The room was still, the only sounds the soft breathing of the newborn in Luke’s arms and the occasional sniffle from Luke and Owen as they tried to process the enormity of what had just happened.

The nurse stepped forward, breaking the gentle silence. “Have you decided on a name?” she asked, her voice warm and kind.

Luke and Owen exchanged a glance, and in that unspoken moment, they knew. They had talked about names in passing, but now, holding the baby in their arms, it felt real—so much more than just a conversation. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful.

“We’ll name him Aaron,” Luke said softly, the name slipping from his lips with a sense of certainty. It was a name that carried meaning, one that both Luke and Owen felt was right.

Owen smiled, wiping away a tear as he nodded in agreement. “Aaron,” he repeated, his voice soft and full of love. “It’s perfect.”

Luke looked down at baby Aaron, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. In that moment, all the pain, the uncertainty, and the family drama seemed to fade into the background. What mattered now was the life in his arms, the future they would build together, and the unbreakable bond they shared as a new family.

With Owen by his side, Luke knew they could face anything. They had created something beautiful together, and no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them as a team. Holding baby Aaron close, Luke felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. He had brought this life into the world, and with Owen, he would make sure it was filled with love.

As the three of them sat there, the weight of the past months finally lifted, leaving only the love that had carried them through.

[hairyjocktf]

Spring Break

Noah was pissed. Today was supposed to be the beginning of the best spring break ever. He’d planned a week-long trip with his college friends to New York City. They’d had it all lined up- museums, restaurants, sightseeing, it was perfect. But about a week before, Noah’s mom had called and delivered devastating news. They were having a family reunion that week. In rural Florida. Attendance was not optional. She’d bought his ticket already and there was no way out.

The day had arrived, and he solemnly made his way to the airport and flew to Tallahassee. They were meeting at his relatives’ place in the Florida panhandle, in the middle of nowhere. He’d been once as a kid and vowed never to go back. After a two hour drive from the airport he made it, driving up a dirt driveway to the massive, yet ramshackle, house in the forest. The next hour was a blur of greeting extended family, most of whom he barely remembered since they tended to stay out here in the country. After that settled down his mom came up to him, clearly very excited about something.

“Noah! You’re not gonna believe this, but since it’ll be a few more days before everyone’s here, your cousins Chevy and Logan are gonna take you out on a hunting trip! Just for a couple days,” she was nearly bouncing off the ground.

Noah groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He had nothing in common with his cousins, and certainly did not want to spend time alone with them out in the swampy wilderness. His mom was not hearing any complaints from him though, and she dragged him out back to reacquaint him with his cousins. Chevy and Logan were chatting with each other on the patio, beers in hand, decked out in the camo hunting gear Noah assumed they lived and slept in. They were only a couple years older than Noah, but looked quite a bit older compared to the baby faced city boy.

“Ayyy Noah! What’s up, it’s been a while man,” Chevy walked over and gave him a bear hug, spilling some beer on his back.

“Hey Chevy, nice to see you too. I heard you guys were uh, taking me out camping,” Noah said unenthusiastically.

“Not just camping my guy!” Logan butted in, “We’re talking full on country backroads hunting boy’s trip! We’ll show you what you’re missing by being cooped up in the city.”

Noah’s heart sank; it was worse than he’d thought. They were gonna drag him out there and make him hunt? He didn’t like killing anything and worse, having to deal with the aftermath. He put on a forced grin since his mother was right there.

“Wow, that sounds real great guys, I can’t wait,” he said through gritted teeth. His subliminal messages to them were entirely lost.

“Hell yes bro! Here’s a pack with some of our extra hunting clothing, you won’t want a whole suitcase out there,” Chevy said, handing Noah a backpack. “We’ve got some extra gear that should fit you, it’s already in the truck. We’ll leave in 30 minutes, so get yourself ready.”

30 minutes?? That was immediate, he wouldn’t even have time to plead his case to get out of it. Begrudgingly he went back inside to get his stuff together. The next thing he knew, it was time. The boys were out front in their pickup truck, the back full of tents, camouflage gear, and who knows what else. Logan laid on the horn.

“NOAHHHHHH! It’s time to scram, let's get outta here!” Logan shouted over the blaring horn. 

Noah groaned, this was setting the tone for the whole trip. He looked at himself in the mirror, the camo pants and hoodie just looked wrong on him. He for sure didn’t want his clothes getting covered in mud though, so he sucked it up and headed out front. Chevy grabbed his bag and tossed it in the back before climbing in shotgun, leaving Noah in the cramped back seats. And with that, they were off.

“There’s a real nice game area ‘bout an hour, hour and a half from here,” Logan said. “We’ll get in, set up a nice camp, then relax. Then at sunrise we’ll start you off with somethin easy, maybe a deer or boar,” he turned and looked at Noah, grinning. 

Noah bounced around in the back of the truck as Logan drove through the forest on bumpy dirt roads. Chevy had put on some country music up front, and they were practically yelling to have a conversation over it. They tried talking to Noah about what he’d been up to, but Noah was sulking and gave only short answers. The sun was starting to hang low in the sky when they pulled off, offroading through some clear land towards a spot they’d clearly been to before. They stopped at a neat little clearing near a creek. It was objectively a beautiful little spot, but Noah was not in the mood to appreciate it, already swatting at mosquitoes swarming him. 

“Alright man, you ever pitch a tent?” Chevy asked Noah. 

“Uh, no, I haven’t”

“Well here, I’ll help ya out,” he said earnestly. “We’ve already got a well used spot here, so first we just lay out this footprint, and here let’s have you start with the poles.”

Noah fumbled around with the metal poles before eventually getting them together. He was frustrated, why would he ever need to know this? Chevy took the poles and got the tent up while Logan was still unloading the back of the truck.

“Alright we’re nearly done, just gotta secure it with these stakes,” he handed them to Noah. “Just stick these through the corner, make sure they’re deep in the ground now.”

Noah took the stakes and tried pushing them into the dirt, but they only made it about an inch in. He tried scraping the dirt away with his hands but that didn’t help. Chevy tapped his shoulder, holding a mallet as a suggestion. They’d just gotten here and already Noah was annoyed despite his cousin’s encouraging attitude. His hands were covered in dirt too, he hated being dirty! And he had no escape from all of it. He stormed off to the water’s edge in a huff while the other two finished putting their site together. The sun was really setting by then.

“Ey Noah!” Logan called, “Come have a beer with us man! We’ve got some chili cookin’ too, ya gotta eat somethin,” he laughed. Noah sighed. There was no point in sulking the entire trip like this, even if he wanted to. He walked back over and pulled a beer out of the cooler they’d brought and sat down.

“It seems his highness has decided to grace us with his presence,” Chevy mocked. Noah chuckled. He’d make it through this, even if it took all the beer in that cooler. The boys ate dinner and talked as the sun dipped below the horizon, with Noah actually giving some substantial answers this time. He was exhausted, having flown in and driven all day. He climbed into his tent to hit the sack. If he’d had a mirror in there, he would’ve noticed what looked like some dirt smeared on his face, just on his upper lip and the sides of his face by his ears.

Noah was abruptly awakened by Chevy shaking him. “Hey bro! It’s just starting to get light out, let’s get moving.” Noah groaned, it was his vacation and he was getting woken up at five something in the morning. He crawled out of his tent, banging his head on the pole; was it really that small last night?  The boys were up and moving already, and Chevy handed Noah a granola bar to eat. “It’s a light breakfast I know, but we don’t wanna miss the prime time of the day,” he said softly.

Despite being exhausted, Noah’s annoyance was fading quickly. Maybe this would be a little bit of fun; at the very least it would be something different from normal. He scratched at his chin, his fingers brushing through the smallest bit of stubble that had sprouted overnight. Noah had never been able to grow facial hair, but for some reason this didn’t alarm him, it felt natural even. He put on his hat to hide his messy hair and began to chow down on that granola bar. As he did, that small amount of stubble began pushing out more, giving Noah a shadow across his jaw. It grew thicker, sticking out further until he had a rough, patchy beard. It made Noah look more natural in his hunting gear, aging him up just a hair. His clothes had also grown less baggy on him, attributing to an extra inch or two in height and some mass he’d never been able to pack on before.

Within a few minutes, they were off, trekking through the tall grass into the brush. Logan guided them to a denser pocket where they set up watch and waited for some wildlife to show up. Logan had told them he knew there were deer that tended to feed nearby, so they just had to be quiet and wait. The tension grew as time passed, and before he knew it, a buck had shown up in the clearing. Chevy had prepared him for this, and he took the shot. The deer went down, and Chevy and Logan cheered.

“Hell yes dude! Nice shot, especially for your first time,” Logan patted him on the back.

Chevy gripped him with joy, “It must be in your blood bro, you’re a natural.”

The adrenaline was coursing through Noah’s veins and to his surprise he was actually having a good time. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t wanted to spend time with his cousins, they were chill, and this was turning out to be better than being cooped up in the house. The three of them carried the animal back, working together to hoist several hundred pounds. The sun was fully up now and it was humid. Sweat ran down Noah’s back, and he could smell the putrid stench coming off Chevy in front of him. He didn’t mind though, after all, that’s what a working man smells like.

The sweat was clinging to Noah’s damp skin, beading on his forehead. As he slogged ahead, carrying this massive weight on his shoulders, his body began to adapt. His twig like arms expanded with new muscle, his thighs exploded with size, and his chest produced an impressive set of pecs before softening with a layer of fat. The sweat and smell really began to soak into his skin, and under his sopping shirt small brown hairs poked up around his nipples. Those soft, small hairs didn’t remain so for long, sprouting from his chest, covering the expanse in a curly rug that was slicked down with sweat. Noah’s stubble was not to be left out, pushing further out of his face. Hairs wriggled out in the gaps between old ones, leaving him with much better coverage on his cheeks. Around his chin it even started to fluff up a little, coarse hairs puffing out.

They finally made it back to their camp, dropping the load and slumping into the chairs they’d left around the fire pit. 

“We’ll have to gut and clean that in a minute, but here champ,” Logan handed Noah a beer. It was cold, and exactly what Noah needed against the oppressive humidity. “Here’s to many more,” he toasted, before chugging his own down. Noah was finally able to take a breather, and thats when he noticed.

He STUNK.

He raised his arms back behind his head, airing them out. The sweat drenched pits aired their stench to the world, but to Noah, he just matched his cousins now. The exposed pits had a few hairs plastered to the skin. As he sipped the beer and relaxed, more wisps of hair shot out from his skin, growing thick and wiry. What started as a few extra hairs quickly blossomed into a thick forest of hairs, tangling together and poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt. The hairs itched as they grew in, prompting Noah to dig his fingers in there, scratching through the sweaty, smelly hairs. He didn’t question it, as far as he remembered he’d had hairy pits since middle school. The hairs spread out of his pits, connecting to the dense coating on his chest. The rug on his chest had started creeping upwards, reaching with thick tendrils of hair towards his burgeoning beard.

After a short reprieve Noah was back on his feet, jumping at the opportunity to learn from his cousins how to clean their kill. They were eager to teach him, to fold him into their ways. Noah’s distaste for his cousins, the country, hunting, all of it was evaporating. He felt like he had so much in common with them now, how had he never realized? 

The rest of the day Chevy and Logan took Noah on a whole laundry list of activities they’d planned. Fishing, mudding, you name it. All hesitation had disappeared, Noah was in deep now. He kept drinking with the boys, not noticing that his gut was pushing tight against his shirt. In fact, his whole upper body was stretching out. His shoulders pushed out, growing broader. His frame was massive now, bigger than either of his cousins. He stood out on the edge of a pond in the harsh sunlight fishing, his shirt absolutely soaked with sweat that dribbled down his massive back. As it reached his waistband, it began fertilizing the growth of a new patch of hair right above his plump ass. The hairs sprung out of the wet skin, shooting up his spine in minutes. Before long the hairs had spread out across the wide expanse of his lats, pressing against the tight shirt. The fields of hair were thick, dense enough to darken the shade of his skin, and definitely didn’t help with the sweat situation. The hairs continued to spread, climbing over his round shoulders and down his arms, coating him with a wild fur that cemented his place out in the country. He was really starting to look like his cousins now, between his camo gear, hairy body, and beer gut. 

When the three of them returned to camp that night, Noah was exhausted. He grabbed another can from the cooler and cracked it open. Putting up to his mouth, he tilted it a little too far, spilling foamy beer down his face and into his chest hair. He chuckled and half attempted to wipe the foam off. Where it sat in his beard, the hairs began to thicken and sprout. His mustache grew incredibly thick, making itself known above the rest of his scruff. His chest fur also took to the growth, turning into a real carpet that climbed up and out of his shirt collar. Noah let out a massive burp in response.

“Yo Chevy, we really gotta head back tomorrow? Shit rocks out here,” Noah said with a deeper voice than he’d ever had previously.

“Yea bro, Ma will skin us if we miss the reunion. But don’t worry man, I know you’ll be back out with us in no time,” he flashed a grin at Noah. 

Noah went and dug through their bags, finding a lighter and pack of cigars. Now that the sun was going down, it was cool enough to enjoy being outside. He lit it up and took a hefty puff, his huge, hirsute body taking it in like a champ. Any thoughts about his old spring break, his old life, had been dragged through the mud and stamped out. All he wanted to do now was relax, listen to the sounds of the crickets, and spend time with his bros. 

[kentopedia]

𝐢. 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

after you find out about the marriage arranged between you and nanami kento, you have to find a way to break the news to your lover.

contents . . . sfw, breakups, light angst, f!reader, arguing, gojo x reader, masterlist linked above for more series contents — 2.3k

notes . . . hi everyone !! i'm so so excited to finally share this series, i've been having so much fun with it hehe. in case you haven't seen the masterlist, this is a nanami series, but this first part is gojo x reader... so idk how to tag it lol.

Twigs snapped beneath you as you ran through the garden, barely holding onto the last strain of composure that you had. It was nearing sundown, but you ignored that, reaching the edge of your family’s estate and approaching the creek, careless to any dangers. The sounds of the water grew louder and louder in your ears as you drew closer, turning from a faint trickle to a roar. 

The look on your parent’s face when they’d delivered the news was still burned into your irises, replaying in your mind as you landed one foot in front of the other. How unexpressive they’d been, straight to business — as if they didn’t care at all. It was your future they were messing with, but it seemed they didn’t mind throwing away your happiness. 

You arrived at the creek much faster than anticipated, your breaths heaving as you headed down the hill. 

Satoru was already there, as you’d expected, running his hands through the murky water. His blue eyes shot over from the sound of the leaves crunching, an easy smile on his face, revealing sharp canines.

“What took you so long?” Satoru asked, looking over his shoulder with his typical, lopsided grin. Though, as soon as he saw the tears that were welling in your eyes, his face fell, giving way to a gloomy expression. “Hey, hey, hey. My darling…” he cooed, the tone of his voice so tender. “What’s the matter?” 

You’d been doing a wonderful job at holding back your tears until then, but they began to spill down your cheeks, hot and heavy, dripping off your chin. Your nose began to burn. “I—” you started, then choked on a sob, burying your face in your hands, unable to continue. 

The sound of the creek, rushing through the woods, at least spared you some embarrassment, as it blocked out your cries. 

Satoru was quick to scramble to his feet and make his way over to you, not even thinking before he’d wrapped you up in a warm embrace. He smelled vaguely of the stables, still, as well as the outside, a thick air of sweat lingering on his skin. 

“Take a breath,” Satoru said soothingly, rubbing your spine as you cried into his shoulder, coating his tunic with the weight of your tears. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, squeezing your fingers into his top. The cloth wound up between them, wrinkling the fabric. “I’m so sorry, Satoru.” 

“Whatever are you sorry for, my sweet?” Satoru didn’t draw away, but you could tell that he wanted to… He wanted to question what it was that had made you cry, when he’d seen you earlier in such a jovial state, so thrilled for your rendezvous as the sun bled into the evening. 

The conversation with your parents still lingered at the forefront of your mind, laced with a tinge of distaste and betrayal. 

How desperately you wished you could escape your responsibilities, run from them without guilt. But even now, already a few years into your adulthood, you still felt the burning need to please your family. 

You pressed your eyes shut, deeply inhaling Satoru’s sweet aroma, in case it were the last you ever got of it. “My family has known this whole time. They knew, and they never intended to let me marry you.” 

You’ve spent far too long with the stable boy, dear, and we’ve let you have your fun. Don’t think that we haven’t known, all these years, that he’s the reason you’re pushing all your suitors away. 

Those were words you’d certainly never forget.

Satoru drew away, his eyes narrowed as he scanned your face. Still, there was no sense of panic, his icy irises as steadfast and confident as ever. “Is that it?” he asked, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, soaking up the tears with his lips. “Well, we’ll just have to do without their permission, won’t we? I know your family is very dear to you, but—”

Your face screwed up tighter, watery eyes blurring your vision. “It is not as easy as you make it out to be, Satoru. Despite what you may think, I do not wish for them to hate me. Not to mention, your livelihood depends on their employment. They will not pay my dowry if you are my husband. They will not employ you any longer, and I’ll—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Satoru said, insistent, his optimism succumbing to irritation as you argued. “We can surely find other means to survive.” 

“Survive?” you frowned, features contorting as the tears, momentarily, restrained. “I do not wish to live a life where we have to fight to get by. Besides—”

But Satoru spoke over you, spilling words of grandeur, in a world where things worked out exactly as planned. But your outlook had never been as positive, and his dreams seemed no more than that, in the face of reality. 

“Satoru.” You raised your voice, ever so slightly, and pushed him away, as if to finally make him hear your words. “You’re not listening to me. Even if we could, even if everything you’re saying happened like you want it to, they’ve already found me another husband.”

Silence. It was enough to hear the wind slipping through the trees, swaying the branches. Leaves fell at your feet, swirling around your ankles, a breeze suddenly picking up, as if aware of your quarrel. 

The two of you stared at each other, basked in the last golden rays of the evening. For the first time in decades, it seemed, you were unsure what to say to one another.

Satoru scanned your face, his lips parting, jaw working as he fought for words. “Another husband.” 

“Yes.” Your exhale came out heavy as you blinked away from him, glancing over his shoulder, so as not to face the intensity of his irises. “I’m getting older; men will not be so willing to take me as their bride. So my parents worked something out with a friend of my father’s. His son is a few years older than me,” you sniffed. “He’s been unwilling to get married, but now that his mother is sick…” you shrugged, confused and defeated, as you wrung your hands together. “I’ve been told her final wish is to see her son married.”

“What a wish,” Satoru rolled his eyes, scoffing, “to see your child in a loveless relationship.”

You said nothing. Satoru wouldn’t understand the ways of the nobility, wouldn’t understand the responsibility that you felt. He’d never met his parents, and never had the chance to care about them. 

He huffed instead, running his hands through his snowy hair as he paced close to the water’s edge. It soaked the soles of his shoes, ruining the leather, but he didn’t seem to mind, too deep in his thoughts.

“You have no say in the matter?” Satoru finally asked, his shoulders slumping, as he turned back to face you once again. “You’re just going to let them tell you how to live your life, submit yourself to a man who might be cruel to you?”

“Satoru…” you began, considering defending yourself, before you conceded. “I’m sorry. I care for you, I do, but you must understand.”

“Oh, I understand just fine. You surprised me, is all. I thought you’d put love over things like that.” 

You swallowed, shoving away the engulfing sadness as he paced back toward you, his wet shoes creating muddy footprints in the ground. 

“You can’t honestly have thought that all our silly dreams would come to fruition. You knew all along that this was just a fleeting fancy, didn’t you?” 

“On the contrary, I thought this was serious.” To your surprise, Satoru dug through his pocket, throwing a ring at you, one that was nothing close to extravagant, but beautiful all the same. “I’ve carried this for weeks now… just waiting. There was never a good time to propose, but I really did want to marry you. How’s that for fleeting?” 

Your jaw fell slack. A fresh wave of tears began as you bent down, soiling your pastel gown in the grass and mud to pick up the ring. It was a simple gold band, shiny and smooth — probably months worth of his salary. 

Nausea rose up in you as you dusted off the fine piece of jewelry, staring at it with affection. “Dear lord,” you said, not even bothering to wipe the snot that ran in a smooth stream from you nose, just like your tears. “Why did you have to tell me this?”

“I won’t spare you the kindness of ignorance. I want you to know exactly what you’re throwing away.”

“That’s not—” you shook your head, eyes glued to the ring. “I don’t want you out of my life. I love you, Satoru. I want to be with you, I just can't… But, perhaps, we can still see each other?”

Your lover stared, blinking once, then again, his white eyelashes fanning over pale cheeks. Then, a loud laugh escaped from him, deep from his chest, as if in horror. “You want me to be your whore?” he asked, aghast, infiltrating your space as he backed you into a tree. 

You glanced up at him, eyes wide, pressing your hands to the smooth expanse of his chest. “I—”

“I love you. I love you, and I’d dedicate my life to supporting you,” his voice was pained, cracking on the vowels. “But that means nothing to you, does it? You’re so selfish.” 

The word felt like a slap to the face — the same that your family had called you, when they’d admitted they knew of your dalliance. Either way, you would lose. You were selfish for bringing such disgrace to your family’s respectable lineage, or you were selfish for choosing your responsibility over your lover. 

“i just don’t know what to do.” Your voice felt small; the weakness of it softened Satoru’s expression, if only by a fraction. 

He exhaled. “Well, I know. Go back home, tell your parents to fuck whoever wants your hand, and run away with me. Be with me,” Satoru pressed his forehead to your own, desperate. “Please. I love you, I adore you, I’ll worship you. What more do you want?”

You swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “Satoru…” His hands went still on your waist. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.” 

For the first time in all your years together, since the moment you’d met him as an infant, you felt a distance crack between you, breaking into a cavern. Satoru had been your best friend, your constant companion, the person you’d always thought would be a part of your life. Now, the risk you’d taken by falling in love with him had finally come to pass. You weren’t sure that your relationship could ever be remedied, after such a poor conclusion.

“You’re a coward,” Satoru finally said, spitting your name like it was a curse, and you flinched, dipping your chin to your collarbone. There was no love in those words, no gentleness; they were meant to hurt. “You think you’re different than all the other women of nobility, but you’re not. You want to be spoon-fed like the rest of them, waited on hand and foot, reliant on the money of your family and your husband.”

You sniffled, hands shaking as you clenched your jaw. Satoru had a sharp tongue — he always had — but it’d never been used against you. For the first time, you knew what it was like to be looked at by Gojo Satoru with disdain, and it was awful. 

“That’s cruel… Don’t you understand what you’re asking me to do? You’re asking me to leave behind my family, my life, my security. You want me to leave everything with no plan at all?”

“I understand well enough.” He stepped away, backing up until you could no longer smell the sweat that clung to his sleeves, until you could no longer see the contrasts of blues in his irises. “Truthfully, I don’t believe I know you like I thought I did. I never assumed you’d be so hesitant to leave.” 

Despite your tear-filled eyes, you stood taller, trying to keep some semblance of dignity. Like the noble woman you were, you refused to be seen as weak in the face of your emotions. If you were to leave Satoru, you would leave him confident that you were making the right decision. “Perhaps not, then,” you said. “You may have been taken into our home with love and care, but we are not as similar as you were raised to believe.” 

Satoru licked his lips, then clicked his tongue, speechless, before he turned around for good. “Right,” he said, shaking his head. “I should’ve known that the spoiled girl you’d been would turn you into a spoiled woman. I’ve been a fool. Enjoy your sham of a marriage.” He began to walk away, slowly, before gradually picking up his pace, his back as taut as the bow of a violin. 

“Is this really how you wish to end things?” you asked, shouting through the wind at his retreating form. “On such a vile note?” 

“You’re the one that ended things,” Satoru said, and though you hoped that he would glance over his shoulder, spare you one last glimpse before you parted ways forever, he never did. “I only wanted to love you.” 

You opened your mouth, words lingering on your tongue, before you shut it, and let him go. 

Tomorrow, you would regret it. You would long for his warm embrace, his arms, so strong from riding and tending to the horses. You would long for his kiss, gently brushed against your hairline, a smile growing on his lips as you told him about the book you’d read. You would long for a time when you passed him in the hallways and received a grin, instead of a sneer. 

But, for now, thrumming with guilt and grief and rage, you watched him walk away, hands balled at your fist. Maybe he didn’t deserve you anyway. 

Maybe you didn’t deserve him. 

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