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joelscruff · 3 months

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is it that sweet? (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

masterlist | a/n i've had no motivation to write lately but this randomly popped into my head the other day and suddenly my brain was like okay let's roll!! let's do this!! let's jump in!! so idk what that says about the current state of my subconscious. anyway this is filth! pls read the warnings! love u. summary: you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right? rating: 18+ explicit warnings: pervy!joel, age gap, voyeurism, coercion, objectification, sneaky picture taking, nude photos, paying for sexual favors, dirty talk, praise kink, pussy pronouns up the fuckin wazoo, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected p in v sex, standing sex, creampie word count: 8.4k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

He's been watching you for about an hour. You'd sussed him out almost immediately after settling onto your beach towel and digging into your bag for your sunscreen, mildly aware of the shape of him in your peripheral vision. He's old, definitely in his late fifties, but certainly not the most unattractive man who could be eyeing you. You're used to it by now anyway, almost feed into the way men seem to gawk at you sometimes now that you've finally thrown caution to the wind and stopped giving a fuck about your beach body. You used to be self conscious about your curves, your tummy, your thighs - you decided this summer that it had to stop.

And you're glad you did. Because now he's staring at you, this unnamed, completely anonymous middle aged man only a few feet away. And it feels fucking good.

Should it feel good? Probably not. Should you tell him to buzz off and leave you alone? Take a picture, it'll last longer, something like that? Probably. But will you? No.

You like feeling his eyes on you.

Older men like you, you've noticed. They stare. They stare more than men your own age - boys, really. Twenty somethings who try to play it cool and more often than not come across as disinterested in their interest. They're cowardly, obnoxious. And you suppose some older ones are too, especially the ones with wives - they want you to be impressed by them, ooh and awe over their high paying jobs and big mansions, their fancy cars that they think make up for their tiny dicks.

But every now and then you'll come across one like this. You can read him like a book, peering at him from over your sunglasses every so often as he lounges behind a vibrant blue umbrella. His eyes caress your bare shoulders and chest, your exposed stomach, your soft thighs. They linger on the places they shouldn't and it makes you tingle. He's appreciating what he sees, basking in it, taking his time.

You could be content just lying here and letting him look. He is handsome after all, greying curls and soft scruff flecked with white, golden skin that almost glows underneath the sun. His legs stretch out over his own towel, long and lean and strong. He's got a soft looking belly, hanging out a little bit over his trunks, and now your eyes linger for a little longer than they should.

But you won't say anything. If he wants to talk to you, he has every opportunity to. You're not going anywhere for at least another hour, not until the sun starts setting and it's time to head back to your friend's vacation home. You've only been in California for a short period of time, but it's like it's somehow molded you into a different person - a more confident, sexier version of yourself that's been dying to get out for years. A version of you who lets this old man stare and get his fill as you smirk and turn over on your towel, arching your ass up into the air.

Oh, he likes that. You can tell because of the way his jaw clenches, neck tightening as his eyes fall to the globes of your cheeks. With a barely there smirk, you arch a little more, stretching and flexing and letting him take in the way your bikini bottoms barely contain them. Your breasts hang low onto your towel, practically overflowing from their own containment, and you have to admit - you're getting a little wet posing for him like this.

He licks his lips, eyes flickering downward again to something closer to him, something in his hand. You crane your neck a little bit to peer around the blue umbrella, and your breath hitches.

He's taking pictures of you.

It's obvious now, should have been obvious this whole time, really. Only one of his hands has really been visible, the other settled low against his side behind the umbrella. Now you can see that he's got his phone angled toward you, the camera peeking slyly out from behind the blue nylon as he repeatedly taps his screen with his thumb. To test him a little further, make sure you're really seeing what you think you're seeing, you push down into the sand with your hands and rise up a little bit on the towel, almost into a lazy downward facing dog. Your tits jiggle below you, threatening to escape, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as the man adjusts the camera to get a better angle. His thumb and forefinger glide across the screen, undeniably - and unashamedly - zooming in.

You're definitely wet now. You know you shouldn't be. You know this has probably gone too far and you should get up and leave, potentially tell someone about the creep on the beach taking photos of women in bikinis.

Instead, you make eye contact with him, settling back down onto your towel with your ass still perched a little in the air. He seems to freeze, eyebrows going up in the realization that he's been caught. In response, you blink slowly at him, pout a little bit as if to say, Really? You arch your back a little more and shimmy your hips, tilting your head as you continue to gaze over at him, eyes going a little hooded.

Come fuck me, you're almost saying, even though you know there's no way in hell you're gonna let him. It's just funny to watch him squirm, phone gripped tight in his hand as his adam's apple bobs in his throat. You arch a little more and then grind your hips into your towel, flattening yourself against it, holding his gaze. You rest your head and smile at him teasingly.

He's getting up and shuffling toward you in no time at all.

"Hi, darlin'," are the first words out of his mouth when he reaches you, and you certainly did not expect a Southern accent to fall from those plush lips. He's gorgeous really, now that you can see him up close - wide shoulders and big arms that strain against his white shirt, strong chest covered in little freckles, chocolate brown eyes that shimmer in the sunlight.

"Hi," you say with a smile, blinking up at him.

"I'm sure you saw what I was doin'," he seems a little embarrassed, voice apologetic as he scratches the back of his neck, "I know I shoulda asked, but you seemed so relaxed, I didn't wanna disturb you."

Bullshit, you only came over because I smiled at you. Any other reaction and you'd have run for the hills.

"I'm Joel," he reaches his hand down for you to take. For some reason, you shake it without hesitation. "I'm actually a photographer, believe it or not."

Huh. You raise an eyebrow at the words, doubt immediately swimming in your mind as you assess him.

"If you're a photographer, where's your camera?"

He chuckles, "Back at my hotel. I just came out here to relax, wasn't plannin' on takin' any photos. But then I saw you, and, well..." he smiles at you sheepishly, "You're just so pretty, darlin'. Never seen somebody like you before."

The words are not special. They're nothing you haven't already heard, nothing he hasn't probably already used on countless other women. And yet... you smile back at him, cheeks warming a little at the way the compliment sounds coming out of his mouth in particular, all Southern and sweet. "Thank you."

His eyes suddenly leave yours to flicker back toward your body again, scanning the length of you. As if on instinct, almost to show off, you tighten the muscles in your ass cheeks and then release, letting them jiggle a little bit under your swimsuit. He swallows tightly.

"Would you be interested in posin' for me, sweetheart? There's a little spot down the beach, outta sight. Still public though, of course. I wouldn't ask you to go anywhere unsafe," his eyes linger on your ass for a few more seconds before he's meeting your gaze again, soft and sincere, "I'd love to get some pictures of you in that bikini, and some with it off too, if you're comfortable with that."

Oh, he's fucking brave. You can feel disgust brewing in the pit of your stomach, a scowl beginning to dawn on your face. This is where you should draw the line. This is where you should get up and leave, tell him to go to hell, tell him he's a pervert and-

"I'll pay whatever you think is fair," he continues, "How's three hundred as a starting point?"

On second thought...

"Beautiful, baby," he's telling you softly, "You're so pretty like that."

You hum in contentment, laying in the sand with a little smile tugging at your lips as Joel maneuvers around you with his phone, snapping pic after pic as you peer up at him through rays of sun. You're a little ways down the beach now, in a sparser area behind some rocks. He was right about it still being public - if something happened, you know you could raise your voice the tiniest bit and be heard immediately by people on the other side. Somehow though, despite his forwardness and slightly perverted habits, you trust that he isn't going to force anything on you.

You've already got three hundred dollars in your purse. He'd given it to you before you'd even gotten up from your initial spot on the beach, placed it in your hand with a grin as your eyes widened. You suppose you could've taken the money and run, but part of you wanted to play it out, test the limits, see what else he'd pay you for.

Which leads you here, laying sensually in the sand with the strings of your bikini dangling a little looser off your shoulders and hips, a little careless, a little more teasing. The poses so far have been pretty basic, and you've tried your best to emulate what you think a supermodel on the cover of Sports Illustrated would do. Based on Joel's responses - excited nods and gentle praises - you think you're doing a good job.

"Turn over now," he tells you with a playful grin, "Put that cute little ass in the air again for me."

It should be demeaning, the way he's talking to you. There's a lot about this situation that should be wrong, and yet you can't help but feel pride swell in your chest at his directions, his compliments. You do what he says, flipping over to dig your hands into the sand and arch your back, turning your head to eye the camera directly with a sultry little smile on your face.

"Perfect," he's murmuring, thumb tapping the screen like his life depends on it, "That's so perfect, honey." You listen to the fake little shutter sounds the phone makes, still wondering if he's even really a photographer. Would it even matter? Wouldn't you have still let him do this anyway?

With this new angle you can feel the loose strands of your bikini top starting to slip, unraveling at the back and trickling gently against your sides. You watch with what should be a worrying lack of urgency as it cascades down onto the sand below, leaving you topless.

He whistles low under his breath, "Well, would you look at that. The girls are out."

"That's an extra fifty," you say with a coy eyebrow raise, "Or else I cover them back up."

"Extra fifty, no problem" Joel echoes, "Can you shake your ass for me again, darlin'?"

You nod, tilting your head and peering back at him as you tighten and release your muscles with a giggle, basking in the way he stares at it, like it's a five course meal he's about to devour. You do it a few more times, arching your back a little more and spreading your thighs slightly to allow for more recoil, more jiggle. He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat and you grin.

"How much to take these off too?" he lowers the phone and peers at you with pleading eyes, brown and soft, "Huh? How much extra to show me this lil' peach, honey?"

You grimace, looking down at the sand and trying to calculate an appropriate cost in your brain. You bite your lip, "You know that's not the only thing that'll show."

"I know," he murmurs, eyes trailing downward again to eye your ass, still perched high and plump, "Your peach and your pussy then, how much?"

Fuck.

"I won't touch you," he promises softly, "You can just tug it down and show her to me, lemme see her up close, yeah?"

Her?

Her.

"Christ," you mumble under your breath. He's filthier than you thought, and not in a bad way - in a fucking hot way. "Another fifty," you decide, voice firm, "And... and I wanna see you put the money in my purse first. And no touching my... her."

"I can do that, sweetheart," he's already digging into his wallet and yanking out the money, opening your bag slightly to place it inside. It could be counterfeit for all you know; this whole thing really might be a completely worthless venture, and yet -

He watches as you reach backward to untie the strings of your bikini bottoms, doing it in one fell swoop and then spreading your thighs again, knees digging into the sand. You arch and press your face against your towel, feeling goosebumps rise all over your skin at the knowledge that he's staring at where you're now completely bare.

You hear him groan, a rough little sound that goes straight to your core, and a few little shutter sounds go off, "Now, that's a pretty little pussy you got there, baby."

Heat rises throughout your body, up through your chest and to your cheeks. You turn a little to look at him shyly, lashes fluttering when you see where his gaze has settled.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, honey, she's so pretty," he breathes, "She's all wet. Leakin' for me, you see that?"

You can't see it of course, but you can feel it; feel the way you're dripping, knowing that he can see it, has a 1:1 view of the way you throb and drool for him. This random old man who about twenty minutes ago you'd never spoken to in your life.

"And your little clit is sayin' hi to me too, babygirl, can see her pokin' out." Fuck. You squirm a little in place as his camera continues to go off, legs spreading a little more unconsciously as you tilt your head downwards and close your eyes. Your clit twitches under his stare.

"Swollen little thing," he breathes, barely loud enough to hear, "Perfect pussy."

Jesus Christ.

"Roll over for me again, sweetheart," you hear him say quietly, "Show me all those pretty parts."

You don't know why, but you whine a little at his words. It's subconscious, a burning desire you can't describe as you slowly flip over and lazily lay back on your towel to show him your entire naked body. He stands over you with his brow furrowed in a gentle kind of way, eyes appraising you up and down like you're some kind of goddess. And fuck, he's kind of making you feel like one.

"Legs open a little bit, baby, that's it." You obey, spreading your legs and looking up at him with lidded eyes, lips parting a little. You bring your arms up to rest behind your head and he takes note of the way your tits bounce for him, shivering back and forth beneath his gaze. "You're perfect," he murmurs, "You're absolutely perfect."

"Stop," you say, unable to stop a grin from spreading across your face, "M'not perfect."

"But you are, darlin'," he shakes his head, eyes full of wonder as he kneels down to get some closer pictures. You watch as he brings his phone down directly in front of your pussy, snaps a few close-ups of your puffy lips and swollen clit. "I'd love to kiss her, honey, if you'd let me."

"N-no," you say quickly, though your voice cracks, "No touching."

"I'll pay you extra," his eyes return to yours, locking your gazes, "You name it, baby. I'll pay anything to taste how sweet you are down here."

You look at him calculatingly, tilting your head. Anything?

"Two hundred," you practically whisper, "In the bag."

You're half expecting him to tell you that he's run out of money, that he couldn't possibly give you any more than the four hundred he's already blown on this. But he surprises you, reaching back into his pocket to grab his wallet and tug out the bills. It's like he has an endless supply, and you're beginning to wonder if maybe this is a hobby of his, something he prepares for, carries money around to be ready to spend on women like you. Maybe he's rich rich, has unlimited money to throw away, and this is just his weird perverted thing he does on the side of something else.

Maybe you should have asked for more.

But he's already kneeling back down into the sand and you're already opening your legs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them and lean his head forward to place his lips gently against your pussy. You watch with heavy lids as he kisses you so softly there, his mouth tender and inviting and deliciously scratchy from his scruff. Without really thinking about it, you reach down and run a hand through his curls, smiling a little fondly as he kisses you again, and again, and again.

"That feels nice," you breathe, watching as he continues to press incredibly slow and gentle kisses to your cunt in an almost respectful way, a reverent way.

"Good," he murmurs, lips vibrating against your core, "Want it to feel nice for you, baby."

You let out a soft moan the second his tongue breaches your folds, wet and warm. You watch as he closes his eyes and seems to get lost in it, tasting your pussy like it - or she, as he'd said - is some rare delicacy he's never indulged in before. He trails the tip of his tongue through the mess you've made, maneuvering your puffy lips and flicking it against your clit. Your hips buck and another moan slips out, quiet and pitiful.

"That's it," he murmurs against you with a little half smile, "So sweet for me, honey." He dives back in immediately and slowly plunges his tongue inside your entrance, fucking into you a few times before carefully pulling back and opening his eyes to peer up at you again. God, those brown eyes are fucking sinful. He gives you one more smile and then reaches down to grab his phone.

"Gonna get some more pics of this messy girl, okay?" he breathes, and you're a little startled when his left hand is suddenly coming down to touch you there, two fingers carefully scissoring you open. You don't say anything, too horny to protest, too intrigued to see what he's going to do. "Gotta open her up a little," he tells you softly, answering your unspoken question, "Wanna take a little peek at what she's hidin' inside her, baby."

A little whimper falls from your throat again as his fingers scissor you wider, holding you open and baring your hole to his camera. You can feel your walls twitching and pulsing, contracting and leaking; you can only imagine what it looks like. Your eyes roll a little when his middle finger taps your clit, another gush of arousal flooding past your opening.

"Look at this lil' hole, huh?" he's murmuring, but your eyes are closing and your head is falling back onto the towel as he plays with you, "Oh, she's alllll messy for me down here, baby. And it's no wonder your clit came out to see me, she loves gettin' played with, don't she?"

Christ, he knows how to talk. His words send another helpless little sound past your lips, thighs trembling as he slowly caresses your clit with his finger, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure.

"Aw, you're all sticky here again, baby," he whispers and you whine, feeling your juices dribble down toward your ass, "Shh, I'll take care of it," and then he's leaning back in to lap at your folds, a little faster this time, more desperate, "Tastes so good, pretty girl. So sweet."

He suckles your clit into his mouth and you let out a breathless moan, brow furrowing as he suctions the swollen nub and lets one of his fingers fall to slip inside your entrance. You're so close you can feel it, coiled inside and ready to snap at any moment, his thick index plugging you deliciously as his tongue swirls. You tighten around it, thighs squeezing a little around his head, and then-

He's pulling away, removing his mouth and finger. Your eyes flutter open and you watch as he stands up with a little groan, older age apparent in the way he clutches at his back and exhales once he's upright. You want to tell him to get back down here, finish what he started, but part of you feels like it'd almost be letting him win, somehow. This perverted creep on a public beach that's somehow managed to lure you away and get you naked, take photos of your body and eat your pussy. He doesn't deserve to have you beg for him - even if you want to.

"Can you stand up for me now, honey?" he tilts his head, squinting against the sun and smiling like he didn't just ruin your orgasm.

On shaky legs, you manage to pull yourself up from the sand and stand before him in all your naked glory, legs crossing a little as you squeeze your thighs together. He smirks but doesn't say anything about it, instead angling his phone toward you again and snapping some full length photos. You immediately do your best to go back into Sports Illustrated mode, posing a little and trying to ignore the ache between your legs, the relentless throb of where his mouth just was.

"Squeeze your tits together for me," he tells you, voice a bit deeper, rougher, full of arousal, "Cup 'em a little, show me those cute lil' nipples."

You do as he says, biting your lip and showing the camera exactly what he wants to see. Your nipples are peaked and hard, begging to be teased and tugged, but you refuse to do it yourself - you're not giving him the satisfaction, not after what he just pulled. He takes a few up-close pictures, camera so close to them that you shiver with sensitivity, the smallest bit of air from his movements causing them to tighten even more.

"Those are so beautiful, baby," he murmurs softly, gaze trailing upwards to meet yours, "Can I give 'em a kiss too?" God, his eyes are so fucking soft and sincere, like fucking boba pearls. You wonder if anyone's ever been able to say no to him.

You swallow, keeping eye contact, "For another fifty, sure."

He chuckles at that, "You drive a hard bargain, darlin'."

"I know what I'm worth."

He smiles, nodding slowly, "That, you do." He pulls out his wallet and slips another bill into your bag, then shuffles toward you again. You try to keep your breathing calm when one of his hands comes up to cradle your bare back, pulls you in a little bit as he lowers his mouth to your right nipple. With hazy eyes, you watch as he presses the softest little kiss to it, then does the same to the left.

Part of you wants to pull back and say that's it, that's all you get, just to see what he does, give him a taste of his own medicine. But then he's wrapping his lips around the pebbled bud and suckling, your eyes going glassy, jaw dropping a little as your hands come up to hold his shoulders. Your pussy throbs at the sensation, thighs rubbing together again as he suctions just the right amount and swirls his tongue all over the hard peak. It's impossible not to let a quiet moan fall past your lips, something he returns with a little mmhmm around your nipple, a wordless I know.

It feels so good that you feel your guard going down even more than it already has, feel your head falling forward to rest against his. His greying hair is so soft, so warm from the sun. You blink slowly and inhale, cheek smooshing into his temple as he sucks and sucks and sucks, then turns his attention to the other one. Little whimpers are tumbling past your lips, your hands squeezing and caressing his shoulders as you feel yourself starting to drip down your inner thighs.

It's so fucking intimate, much more intimate than you anticipated. And when he finally pulls away and comes back up to peer into your eyes again, leaving your nipples puffy and a little sore, you betray yourself by leaning forward to kiss him softly, tugging his bottom lip into your mouth and returning the favor with a little suckle. You feel him smile against you, the hand on your back tightening as he brings his other one up to tangle in your hair. His lips are plush and wet - a little chapped from what he's just done to your nipples - and he tastes like pussy.

It's fucking heavenly.

"I wanna show you somethin', babygirl," he murmurs against you after a moment, and you nod a little too quickly, a little pathetically. You're starting to realize that you're losing the battle here, if there ever even was one.

He pulls back a little, eyes still soft. You watch as he reaches down to his swim trunks and unties them, heart suddenly in your throat as he slips his hand inside and comes out with an absolutely beautiful dick. It's long and thick, rounded and full at the tip with an extremely suckable looking mushroom head, as well as a prominent vein trailing up his shaft that makes your mouth water. You both stare at it for a few seconds without speaking, your lips parting but no words coming to mind.

"You wanna take some pictures with my cock, honey?" he asks you quietly, and you think he's probably looking at your face now, watching your expression, but you're still just staring at his dick.

"W-what?"

"Just a few, like...well..." he shuffles forward a bit and very gently presses the warmth of his cock against your bare stomach, letting the tip sit just above your belly button, "Like this."

Your brain is blank.

"That okay?"

His cock is so heavy.

"Darlin'?"

And warm.

He pushes some of your hair behind your ear, cradles your face in his big hand, "I know, honey," he murmurs, "You just gotta say okay."

Okay?

"O-okay," you finally whisper.

"Yeah?"

Yeah. You think it but don't say it, can't say it. You feel beyond overwhelmed, eyes still glued to where his throbbing tip is smooshed into your belly. You can't stop looking at it, ogling it, awed by its impressiveness and girth, the way it leaks a little onto your skin. You've never seen a dick this pretty before. You almost forget that you're standing there without any clothes on, barely aware of the shutter sound as he snaps multiple pictures on his phone.

"Good girl," he murmurs softly, "That's a good girl, just look at it."

Every few seconds he repositions a little, pulling you in closer to capture the way his cock stands at attention between your bodies. Precum gurgles from the tip and makes a sticky mess in his happy trail, dribbling down onto your skin. Without thinking about it at all, completely unaware of even doing it, your arms are suddenly around his waist, holding him close with your gaze still locked onto his cock.

"Yeah, that's for you, baby," he tells you softly, grinding his hips a little bit against yours and essentially fucking his cock against your stomach, "You did that to me."

It's only when he suddenly takes a small step back, holds the base and angles it downward to gently prod the sticky head against your pussy lips, that you finally come to your senses.

"Wait," you gasp out, yanking yourself back from him and shaking your head, "W-wait a second."

"M'sorry," he says quickly, brow furrowing as he puts his hands up. His cock hangs from his trunks almost comically, bobbing up and down as he takes a step back, "Shoulda asked first."

"Y-yeah, you should've," your voice cracks, heat flooding your face, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me just then, that was too far." Why the fuck are you apologizing to him?

"S'not too far," his words are gentle, alluring, "We're just havin' fun, aren't we honey? You were havin' fun, got lost in it. It's okay."

You take a breath, staring at him as you try to get your bearings. Were you having fun? Is this fun? What the fuck are you even doing right now? Your thoughts are cloudy, hazed with arousal and attraction to this complete stranger in front of you. Are you really gonna let this continue? Is it really worth it? Your gaze falls back to his cock and the question is almost answered for you.

"What am I doing?" you ask aloud, a breathless little laugh escaping your lips.

"You're just havin' fun with a new friend, s'all it is."

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way your hands tremble, "Is that what you are? My friend?"

"I'll be anything you want me to be, darlin'," his mouth turns up at the corners, eyes sparkling, "I sure would like to be your friend."

He peers at you for a moment, waiting for you to speak. Your mouth opens a few times but no words come out, your thoughts scrambled as you try to make heads or tails of this situation. You're suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're still completely naked, and you quickly peek your head over the rock formation to make sure there's nobody nearby - there isn't.

Why are you checking?

"C'mere," Joel finally says, and you turn back to look at him with your lip between your teeth. He's standing there with his arms open a bit, cock still heavy between his legs. By all accounts, a fucking perv. And yet...

And yet.

Fuck it.

You're back in his embrace in no time, hooking your head over his shoulder and allowing his cock to press warmly into your skin again. You close your eyes and sigh as he brings one of his hands downward to squeeze your ass.

You know what he's going to ask before he even says it.

"Can I put it inside you, darlin'?" he murmurs softly, pleadingly, "Just to get a pic of your pussy all full?"

You don't say anything.

"Won't take more than a minute," he urges, "I promise, baby. Just wanna see it stretched around my cock. Don't you wanna see that, pretty girl? I'll pay extra, whatever you want."

More silence.

"I know you wanna see it," he's relentless, his other hand coming down to squeeze your other cheek and pull you impossibly closer, "You wanna feel that, don't you, baby? Big cock fillin' you up before you go?" His middle finger slides between your cheeks and settles at your pussy, slowly teasing your entrance, "Don't gotta do anything at all, just gotta stand here, we'll do it standin' honey."

"Standing?" you ask softly, pulling back to look at him with intrigue, and your response suddenly has him grinning from ear to ear as he slowly inserts his finger. You shiver, eyes fluttering closed as he fills you with it.

"Standin'," he repeats, "Just like this, baby, don't gotta do anything 'cept open your legs a little for me. You can do that, can't you?" The hand on your ass comes up to hold your chin; he pinches it gently between his finger and thumb and gives you another soft look as he starts to fuck you in earnest, "I know you can, 'cause you're a good girl, yeah?"

"Y-yeah," you breathe, arms tightening around his body.

"Yeah," he adds a second finger, smile faltering into a sympathetic pout when you let out another soft moan, "And you want that cock, don't you? I can see it all over your face, honey. Don't gotta pretend."

"I do," you whisper with a nod, swallowing thickly and trembling in his arms, "I want it, I do."

"So..." he's waiting for you to say the words, to tell him to go ahead and put it in, do what he wants, let him take control. His fingers are relentless inside of you now, plunging in and out at a speed you know he's purposely using to distract you, cloud your decision making.

Which is why his eyebrows go up in surprise when you're suddenly reaching down to grab tightly to his wrist, yanking his fingers out of your pussy in one swift pull.

"Three hundred," you state, "Take it or leave it."

To your surprise, his face alights with a gigantic smile, a deep laugh tumbling past his lips as he nods and digs his hand into his pocket, seeking his wallet one more time, "Yes, m'aam," he grins, "I'll take it."

You've never had sex standing up before. Not like this, face to face and completely upright with your feet planted on the ground. It's a little awkward at first, Joel having to crouch a little to align his hips with yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other grips his phone. God, this fucking phone. You're pretty sure you'll never wanna see a phone case with this ugly shade of cerulean blue again, let alone hear those obnoxious shutter sounds.

Your annoyance is quickly overpowered by the sensation of the warm head of Joel's cock pressing gently to your pussy. You look down to watch, lip between your teeth again as Joel snaps image after image of the way his tip crowds your outer lips, pushes them apart. You have to admit, it's certainly a sight to behold.

"Yeah, look at her open for me, baby," he's murmuring, thumbing the base as he slowly rubs his cockhead back and forth through your folds, "Bloomin' like a little flower."

The top of your head rests against his shoulder, face angled down to watch what he's doing. A tiny whimper falls from your lips when he very slowly eases the head of his cock inside of you, the stretch barely noticeable with how wet you are. He releases your hip to reach down and open your pussy lips with his thumb and forefinger, exposing where you're joined.

"Tell her to smile for the camera, babygirl," he whispers, and while part of you wants to roll your eyes, another part can't help but feel a gush of arousal at his words, soaking his cock even more, "Good, that's good."

He feeds his cock to you slowly, making sure to take as many pictures as he can. Little whines and squeaks erupt from your throat and your hands claw at his back, fingers tangling in the white crocheted material as he fills you up. It's only when he's fully sheathed inside of you that he suddenly tugs his trunks down a little more to expose his balls, heavy and round and full. You stare at them with a longing in your eyes you can't describe, lower lip trembling as you watch them bounce and settle against where you're joined.

"There you go," he murmurs, snapping one last picture before tossing his phone into the sand and bringing his hands up to cradle your back, pulling you close, "All done, baby, that's it."

Your toes curl in the sand as you embrace the feeling of being so full of him, his tip pulsing delicately inside the deepest parts of you. A distant thought in your brain wonders why he just threw his phone on the ground, but it doesn't seem to matter when you feel like this, so full and wet and warm, lost in a hazy glow. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out quiet little whimpers as he pulls you in tighter. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, seemingly reveling in the moment too as you stand there listening to the ocean waves, impaled on a stranger's cock.

"How's that feel, honey?" he asks you softly, thumbs tracing shapes along your bare back, "Hm? Feel good?" You don't answer, just nuzzle your face against his skin and let out another soft whine, hands clamoring underneath his shirt to grip his back. He chuckles, "Yeah, I know, baby."

You both stand there for what feels like forever, until you finally have enough sense to pull away from his shoulder and get a look at his face. He's watching you fondly, brow furrowed, eyes still incredibly soft and inviting. He really is gorgeous. Pervy, but gorgeous.

"You dropped your phone," you mumble, words faint and slightly slurred.

"Don't need it anymore," he murmurs, "Got my pictures."

"Then why are you still inside me?" you ask softly, eyelashes fluttering, "If you're done?"

He shrugs, smiling, "'Cause it feels good, don't it?"

You stare at him for a few seconds but end up nodding regardless, turning your face a little to peer over at the ocean, "It does," you admit, "Feels really good."

"Mmhmm," he kisses the top of your head again, then your temple, stroking his fingers through your hair. The way he touches you is reverent, delicate, like you're something fragile he needs to keep safe. It's not what you'd expected, that's for sure. But something you're not as sure about is what happens now, where you both go from here.

It doesn't take long for him to decide.

You feel his thumb on your clit, drawing your attention away from the ocean and back to his presence. You peer at him through bleary eyes, a dazed little smile curving your lips as he carefully rotates the swollen nub. His belly caresses yours, warm and soft, and you smile even wider.

"Feel good?" he asks you again - tender, kind.

"Yeah," you whisper.

The hand on your back comes up to cradle your hair, pulling you in close again and allowing you to rest your head against his smooth chest. You moan as his thumb picks up speed, the sound muffled by his tan skin.

"You want me to make you come, honey?" he murmurs, fingers brushing carefully through your hair, "You wanna come all over that big cock inside you?"

"Yeah," you repeat, a little broken this time, "W-wanna come."

"You've been so fuckin' good for me, you know that?" he breathes, barely a whisper, brow furrowed as he continues to rub your clit, "Posin' all pretty, showin' me that soft little pussy, lettin' me taste her," he gives a low whistle, shaking his head, "And now she's all full, huh? She full?"

You nod, eyes rolling a little, "Y-yeah." Apparently yeah is currently one of the only words in your vocabulary.

"She all messy for me?"

Again, you nod, expression blissful as you let out a moan, "Yes, Joel," you whimper, and you're pretty sure it's the first time you've said his name this whole time. It's like you've been trying to be disconnected from it, from him, and now suddenly he's everywhere; inside you, in front of you, above you - there's no escaping him. And you don't want to escape - what you want is him. Badly. Desperately.

He seems to realize this at the exact same time you do, the moment he hears his name fall from your lips. Which is why you're not surprised in the slightest by his next words.

"What if I wanted a pic of my cum leakin' outta this little pussy?" he whispers, mouth suddenly directly next to your ear, sending insane amounts of pleasurable tingles throughout your whole body, "Huh? How much would that cost? Tell me."

"You can't," you mumble, lightheaded, but you're lying to yourself, completely lost in the pleasure he's giving you, the movement of his thumb and the girth of his cock.

"Only take a few seconds, honey, m'already close," as he speaks, you feel his hips slowly begin to buck, cock pulling from you for only a moment before easing back in, making you shudder, "You don't gotta do nothin', 'cept show me how she drools when she's full. You can do that, can't you baby?"

"Joel," you whine again, eyes shut tight as you dig your toes into the sand, holding tight to his back as he slowly starts to fuck up into you. He's so big, so thick, plugging you full and then leaving you again, slow and warm. You can only imagine how it would feel to have him burst inside of you, to fill you to the brim.

"I wanna see her drool, honey," he murmurs, voice desperate again, full of arousal, "Wanna see her push it out."

"Fuck," you moan, high and whiney as you suddenly grip both sides of his face in your hands to peer directly into his eyes, "A thousand," you whimper, your hands clawing at his scruff as his hips pick up speed, as his hands fall to your waist and hold tightly as he starts to pound up into you, "A thousand and you can come in my pussy."

He presses his forehead against yours, lets out a guttural sound and then hisses, "Deal."

And for some reason, you believe him.

Getting pounded while standing upright is a fucking trip. His nails dig into the pebbled flesh of your hips, knees bending and unbending as his cock fucks up into you relentlessly without stopping or slowing. Your hands are still holding his face, eyes locked with his as your mouth pops open in a silent scream, thumbs digging into the apples of his cheeks. Holy fucking shit.

"I know, I know, I know," he's groaning, voice wild and unhinged, groans vibrating in his chest, "Fuckin' take it, s'what you were made for, honey. Knew it the second I saw you, knew you were gonna go wild on that dick."

"Please," you moan out, tears pricking in your eyes, the sensations almost too much to bear, "Please, please." You don't even know what you're begging for, thoughts muddled as you release his face and wind your arms around his neck, "Keep fucking me, keep fucking me, don't stop, please."

"I got you, honey, I got you," you feel his thumb return to your clit as he speaks, the sounds of your skin slapping together almost rivalling the sound of the ocean waves, "You gonna come, pretty girl? Huh? You gonna cream on my cock?"

"Yes," you practically squeal, and before you can really process what you're doing you're suddenly jumping up from the sand to wrap your legs around Joel's waist, ankles tangling together behind his back. He has no issue shifting positions, his arm cradling you and holding you in the air while his thumb continues to ravage your clit. You feel it building in your stomach, tightening more and more with the insistent pressure of his thumb and the continuous thrusts of his dick hitting your cervix over and over.

"Ohh, I feel her, baby," he groans in your ear, "Sloppy little cunt wants to make another mess, doesn't she?" And that's all it takes for your orgasm to hit you, your legs squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around Joel's body as you moan and whine and cry, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking in his arms. It's like having the wind knocked out of you, arguably one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life, your eyes rolling back into your head as you sob into his neck.

"Joel," you whimper, pussy pulsing repeatedly around his dick through the aftershocks, "Joel, come inside her, please."

"Oh, fuck."

You feel it then, the twitch of his cock and the warm ropes of his release pumping into you. You sigh almost dreamily, burying your face in his shoulder and listening as he groans, feeling the way his fingertips dig into the soft plush of your ass. It's steady - there's so much more than you thought there'd be, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper again, murmuring his name one more time as he empties himself.

You stay like that for a moment, the ocean loud in your ears, all other sounds seemingly drowned out by the hiss of sea against rock and sand. Eventually, he carries you a few steps to your towel, your ears ringing and his body trembling a little as he carefully lowers you down. You let go of him a bit reluctantly, a pout on your lips as he lays you out and then slowly pulls himself from you with a wet squelch.

"Good girl," he's murmuring - you realize he's been saying it the whole time - "Good girl, that's it, open your legs."

There's no hesitance at all anymore, not after that. You open your legs wide with abandon and sit up on your hands, watching with heavy lids as he grabs his phone from where he'd discarded it, bringing it down to your leaking pussy.

"Look at that," he breathes, awestruck, and your eyes trail downward to see what he sees. You feel heat return to your cheeks when you see the way his creamy white release is slowly beginning to dribble out of you and onto the towel.

"Wow, that's a lot," you whisper with a faint little giggle, eyes coming back up to look at his face as he watches it drip. You're not sure he hears you, intensely focused on where you're swollen and leaking, but you don't mind. You push back lazily on your hands and smile fondly at him as he takes his precious photos. In the afterglow, you find that the shutter sounds aren't that annoying, not really.

"Open her up for me, baby," he tells you softly, "Spread her wide and push it out."

You sit up a little, feeling drowsy and dreamy as you reach down and pull yourself open with your hands. You apply a little pressure, closing your eyes in a daze and hearing the wet little sounds as you push his cum out of you and onto the towel. You hear him groan, hear the shutter sounds again, and you can't help but grin.

"Are they good?" you ask him, genuinely wondering, "Is she pretty?" As you speak you pull yourself a little wider, allow him to take one more picture as close inside as possible before he pulls it away.

He looks up from his handiwork with that familiar soft smile on his face again, brown eyes shimmering in the sun that's already beginning to set, "You're perfect," he tells you, "And don't argue with me, I just gave you almost two thousand dollars."

You snort, releasing yourself and falling backwards onto the towel to stare up at the sky. Your limbs feel heavy, eyelids drooping as you watch Joel in your periphery slipping his soft cock back into his trunks, as well as his phone.

"It's real money, right?" you ask, a little unsure.

"I promise it's real money," he says with a chuckle, walking over to stand over you, "D'you wanna come back to my hotel with me and get cleaned up? Maybe have some more fun?"

You bite your lip, "Would you pay me?"

"I'd pay you."

Admittedly, as reality begins to wash over you, the idea doesn't sound anywhere near as appealing as it might have an hour ago. With a little effort, you sit up again and reach for your bikini, half buried in the sand near your feet.

"Nah, I think I'm good."

Joel reaches his arm down and you take it, letting him help you to your feet. As you put your bikini back on, you watch with a little smile as he digs the rest of your money out of his wallet, slipping it into your purse like it's just second nature at this point - which, it basically is. He stands there then, a little awkwardly, like he's not sure what to say.

"Well, uh, thank you, darlin'," he finally says, taking a step back and nodding toward you with a kind expression, "Not many girls would have, um... not many would've done this. I'd offer you my number, but I get the feeling that's not what this is."

You wince, shaking your head, "Yeah, this, uh- this isn't gonna go anywhere, sorry. But it was fun."

He nods, "It was. And, I mean, those pictures aren't just gonna collect dust, I can tell you that much."

You laugh, walking forward a little to pick up your bag. You stop in front of him and, after hesitating for only a moment, lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. Just a peck - a goodbye.

"Have a good rest of your summer," you tell him as you pull away, heat rising in your cheeks again as he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, "And uh- maybe try to be a little more covert with that camera."

This time it's his turn to blush, his cheeks tinging a dark shade of pink as he laughs and tosses you a wave, turning to begin walking away from you. He only makes it a few steps, and then-

"Hey, Joel?"

He turns on the spot, a hopeful look in his expression that makes you wonder, if only for a moment, that maybe you're making the wrong choice.

"You're not really a photographer, are you?"

His blush deepens, a look of embarrassment crossing his features, "No, I'm not. But after today, I just might try my hand at it."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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feyascorner · 9 months

Text

jealousy looks good on you

summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.

warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. I love morons in love,,

You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.

You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.

You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.

But now here you were, not watching him, but her.

Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.

You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.

She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—

Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?

You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.

You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.

A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-

The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.

You should trust him, you think.

He's had more experience in this than anyone else.

You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.

“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”

He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.

“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”

Somehow, your face gets hotter.

Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.

“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”

Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”

“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”

“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”

“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”

“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.

Dusting her off.

And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”

He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”

“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”

“Charming.”

You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”

“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”

“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”

“Why? This feels horrible.”

“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”

“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”

Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.

The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”

“Silly darling.”

You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #fluff #jealousy #astarion

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minswriting · 4 months

Note

HIIII min i hope you’re well idk if you’re still wanting requests, but giving spencer head for his first time has been on my brain lately and i know you’d do so well with it 😍🤭💋

omg thank you!! i hope you enjoy!!

nsfw | mdni

entering your relationship with spencer, you knew he was like the most virgin of virgins. he had never really kissed anyone before. he most certainly had never had sex at all. let alone he’s never had anyone touch him in a sexual manner. so you had decided to ease him into it. the first few months of your relationship were innocent. you taught him how to kiss, how to really enjoy someone’s company romantically. and spencer was such an amazing boyfriend almost right off the bat that it was just great.

after a few months, you guys began talking about sex. with hot make out sessions and hands roaming one another, it was inevitable. but you wanted spencer to ease into sex at a rate that’s most comfortable for him. he had jerked off in front of you, watched you as you fingered yourself in front of him. you gave him numerous handjobs. just as he has fingered you. and now, it was time for oral.

so here you were, on your knees, with spencer’s cock in your mouth as he sat on the couch, looking at you. his expression was gorgeous. his cheeks were flushed and his mouth was agape in an “o”. his beautiful brown hair had fallen into his face slightly. he had one hand gripping the couch while the other was entangled in your hair.

“o-oh,” spencer moaned as you hollowed your cheeks around his length, moving your head up and down slowly. coming up, you swirled your tongue around his tip, making spencer jolt from the pleasure. “holy shit,” he said as he threw his head back.

spencer wasn’t afraid to moan. that was something you taught him. you wanted him to show you just how good you made him feel. and therefore, he never shied away from being vocal. as you began to speed up your movements, the grip spencer had in your hair tightened. you knew he wouldn’t last too long.

you brought your hand to the base of his cock, jerking off what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. your head and hand moved rhythmically together as you bobbed up and down. “it feels so good,” spencer whined, unable to help the thrusting of his hips as he chased the pleasure.

and with a few more movements, his cock was stiffening in your mouth as spencer’s moans grew louder. he was breathing heavily, looking down at you while you looked up at him. “i’m gonna- oh fuck,” he moaned as he began cumming inside of your mouth. he had expected you to pull off. but you didn’t. you stayed put, sucking spencer through his orgasm and swallowing his cum. when he finally finished, you pulled off of his cock, leaving a trail of spit and cum.

spencer’s breathing was harsh, looking at you with a fucked out expression. “i think that’s the best thing i’ve ever experienced,” he said breathlessly.

you laughed, shaking your head. “that’s just because you haven’t fucked me yet,” you exclaimed, standing up and sitting down next to your lovely boyfriend on the couch. “but for now, it’s time for you to learn how to eat me out.”

and spencer grinned, sliding off of the couch and going on his knees in front of you. “i’ll gladly learn how to please you, my love.”

and so he did. spencer was always a fast learner.

#🌸 — min’s asks #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminals minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds reactions

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beenbaanbuun · 3 days

Text

blood w/ poly!ateez

so i feel so sane about this… definitely no evil thoughts filling up my brain right now. none whatsoever :)

i want to write so much more about this universe and i’m literally sending the biggest kiss ever to @ateez-main-yapper to requesting this because i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life!

words - idk

genre - smut, horror (there’s a bit of gore i guess)

warnings - vampire!ateez, mafia!ateez, human!reader, smuggler!reader, blood, scarification, collars, ownership, blood, surgery mentions, nicknames (little mouse, princess, sweetheart), dancer!yeosang, security guard!mingi, ripper!doctor!yunho, mommy!seonghwa (don’t look at me like that, i had to), hand kink (mentioned), no actual sex but it’s talked about a lot, hair pulling, i think that’s all??

——————————————————————————

the scent of stale blood haunts the hallway you find yourself walking down, clinging to the back of your throat until yourself gagging on it. no matter how many times you find yourself down here, it never gets any easier to cope with; even a slaughterhouse would be more pleasant than this.

it begs the question why you’re back. by now, you’ve bled them of enough money to never have to work again, so it’s certainly not the pay. the job itself is harder than most, and not at all rewarding when you have to lie and cheat your way into success. there’s no doubt that the stress of hiding a smuggling operation behind the guise of a blood donation clinic has taken a good 20 years of your life from you. you can guarantee that job satisfaction isn’t what’s keeping you here either.

it’s only when you turn a corner and your eyes land upon them that you remember exactly why you’re still so willing to walk these halls. it isn’t something keeping you here but rather someone; multiple someones, in fact.

“mingi!” your footsteps quicken as you get closer the security guard that stands waiting outside of a heavy metal door. despite the fact that you’ve been on the other side of it multiple times, it still sends a shiver of curiosity down your spine. it’s not an anxious curiosity as it was when you first landed yourself in this position, but more of a morbid one. you know the horrors that lie behind it, you’ve experienced a few of them too, yet you still yearn to see more. “long time no see,” you offer a polite smile once you’re close enough to lower your volume from a shout, “san told me hongjoong had assigned you to pest control. is it not going well?”

mingi gives you a slow blink, his jaw set in stone and his eyes steely as he stares you down. he’s always looked far more intimidating than he actually is, although you suppose it serves to his benefit when his main job it scaring away anyone who might wish to disturb the peace. you’re only grateful to have had the chance to see behind the mask he wears; to watch his eyes melt and his lips part in the wonky grin he gets so little time to wear.

“you’ve not seen me in months and the first thing you ask me is about my demotion back to security?” he quirks a brow at you and you have to bite back your grin. in truth, you’d heard all about it from seonghwa over the past few weeks, your main contact within the clan more than happy to share life details with you as though you’re a lifelong friend rather than a mere employee. their favourite employee, sure, but still at the bottom of the pecking order.

“i just wanted to know more,” you lift your arms in defence, not missing the way his eyes flicker to the bandage on your left forearm, “like you said, it’s been a while.”

mingi hums in agreement as he examines the clean cloth. a long finger reaches out to trace the spot where the fabric meets your skin, the touch lingering and soft. it’s more the real mingi than it is the security guard mingi; it warms your heart to see.

“when did this happen?” he whispers, voice barely above a whisper.

“about two weeks ago,” you i pull your wrist back, letting mingi’s hand drop back down to his side, “hongjoong wanted to approach me about it, but i didn’t take much convincing,” actually, it was you who approached him but for some reason that’s much harder to admit, “you guys are much… kinder to me than the other clans i supply, well, supplied to. it was a no brainer to ditch them when given the chance.”

“so you’re ours?” he asks, voice dipping a little too low for the question to be purely innocent.

“i’m mine,” you confirm, “what i supply, however, is all yours.”

there’s a smirk on his lips, not as easily defeated by your sense of self worth as you’d like him to be. he knows as well as the rest of them what the mark on your arm means, after all. he knows as well as you do that there’s no getting away from them now. the moment yunho took his sweet, sadistic time carving their mark into your body it wasn’t just your business that belonged to them.

“sure you are, little mouse,” he whispers as he leans in close, his icy breath fluttering against your face. your stomach drops but you choose to ignore it. this was your decision, after all, “now, scurry along; you wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting, would you?”

with the flip of a switch, the metal door clicks open and your immediately met with a blast of cool air and a wall of sound. you’ll never understand the clan’s need for these constant frivolities, especially when you’re on the other side of this getting your hands dirty, but you suppose it is a good way to hide their more secretive operations. no one is going to notice the door in the corner when there’s so much going on out here, right? it’s an extra layer of security, and a darn good one at that.

when you step inside, the door clicks shut behind you and you immediately get to scanning the crowd of partygoers for a familiar face. amongst the hoard of vampires, they’re harder to spot, their ashy skin and red eyes sticking out a lot less than they would next to a human. instead you look for a familiar hair colour, recalling the angry text you got from seonghwa about the den’s main bathroom turning pink with hongjoong’s hairdye. nothing sticks out at you, though, and so you’re back at square one.

your arms stretch out before you as you go to push through the crowd. it’s moments like this that you’re glad for the metal, almost collar-like band around your neck. yeosang had created it as a way to keep your pulse hidden from any less-well-meaning vampires. he’d insisted that the tag dangling from it with the clan’s emblem engraved was all hongjoong’s idea, but you recognise the same possessive glint in all of their eyes. it’s the same one yunho had given you when engraving that very emblem into your body, and the same one san had given to you when wrapping your bleeding arm up in a fluffy white bandage. yeosang is just like the rest of them, even behind his sweet exterior.

but right now he isn’t crafting some marvel of engineering out of metal scraps and a dream, but instead on the stage at the front of the room. it’s not often he’s up there instead of one of the others, but as you watch him elegantly dangle from a hoop that hangs from the ceiling, you find it hard to see why. he’s utterly ethereal, like a butterfly about to emerge from a chrysalis; one of those blue ones with the wings that seemed designed to capture your attention with their beauty. you’re entranced, much more so than the rest of the party-goers who seem to have grown blind to the creature moving elegantly before them.

his body moves not at all like a butterfly though, instead flowing smoothly like a viper along the branch of a tree. he extends his arms in such a way you’ve never seen before, silken and smooth as he reaches out to his audience. it pulls you in further, your feet shuffling as you push through the final layer of people to get to the stage. you stumble forwards, catching yourself on the edge of the raised platform. if he notices you there, he doesn’t show it; the stoic expression he wears remains steady as he gracefully shifts his body into yet another position.

you watch him like that until the end of his performance, unblinking with your lips parted in awe. even the way he tumbles to the floor and bows to an uninterested audience holds so much more grace than you think you will ever possess. to think that this is the man that spends half of his time smeared in motor oil with a puppy-like grin on his lips is strange, yet it feels so right.

“hello, little mouse,” he echoes the familiar nickname as he makes his way to the front of the stage, crouching down in front of you and running an all-too-confident finger along your jawline to your chin. he snaps your mouth shut in a way that is so far from the yeosang you know that part of you believes this must be his much cockier twin. “hongjoong is out tonight; some trouble on south side caught his attention so he wanted to clean up the mess before the police got there.”

“i’m meeting with seonghwa then?” you murmur, too starstruck for your mouth the form words properly.

yeosang shakes his head.

“seonghwa and san went with him,” the finger from your chin shifts down to the piece of jewellery that fits snug around your neck. his touch catches against the tag, the jingling sound reminding you of a bell on a cats collar. you try to ignore the smirk that rises to his face as sees you make the connection, instead shifting your gaze to the pendant around his neck that shares the same symbol. “yunho is busy with whatever sick shit gets him off, me and mingi are working which means…”

fuck.

“jongho and wooyoung.”

“clever mouse,” yeosang’s tone is venomous, despite his words being soft. clearly performing does something to his ego; inflates it until every sign of the sweet mechanic is hidden behind a thick shroud of confidence. it’s deliciously cruel, mirroring the sick sadism of yunho or the vast overconfidence of mingi, and holy fuck do you want a taste. perhaps later, once business is over.

if business is over.

“i wouldn’t worry too much about those two, though,” he continues, tugging on the tag of your collar—because despite your pride, even you have to admit that there’s no other way to describe it—until you’re face is merely inches from his own, “hongjoong promised yunho their balls if they can’t learn to control them. maybe you’ll finally be able to have a meeting with them before getting your pussy stuffed, hm?”

you feel yourself getting warmer, your face flushing as yeosang so blatantly talks about your track record with the pair of resident trouble makers. it’s not like you’ve let slip about all the times jongho’s had you sitting on his cock with your mouth wrapped around wooyoung’s the second you step into their office which means that they must have instead. it makes you wonder what they talk about whenever you’re not here, and how much each of them know about your less than professional escapades with each of them. it’s a troubling thought, and yet it’s still manages to light a fire deep in your belly.

“see you later, yeosang,” is the only thing you can mumble in response as you pull away from his touch, the tag of the collar bumping gently against your neck as it slips free of his fingers.

——————-

“you told the others about fucking me?” you scoff as you barge your way into the office where the two youngest vampires await your arrival. it’s nice to see them here already, since they usually arrive far later than the agreed upon time. although, you suppose with the delays of mingi and yeosang, you’re also late on this occasion. you let the passive-aggressive comment about time keeping slide, knowing it won’t help you right now.

“hello to you too, mousy,” wooyoung hums from where he lays on the green sofa in the corner of the room, “it’s nice to see you again! we’re doing wonderfully, by the way; thanks for a—”

you let the door slam behind you as you storm your way towards him, completely ignoring the curious gaze of jongho.

“cut the shit, wooyoung,” you grab hold of his shirt collar and lean in close. it’s supposed to be intimidating but the wide grin on his lips lets you know otherwise. “you’ve all been talking about me when i’m not here? what the fuck, man!”

wooyoung chuckles in your face, his dangerous fangs glinting beneath the overhead lights. you know he’d never bite without your permission—people have been killed by hongjoong for much less—but it still sends a shiver through you whenever you see them.

“you’re not exactly discrete yourself, princess,” the office chair creaks as jongho stands, making his way around his desk and towards you. although you keep your gaze firmly on the little rat who still sits giggling to himself, you can’t help but be hyper aware of the presence behind you. a large hand traces its way up your spine, not stopping until you feel his fingers lace themselves with your locks and tug. your grip fall limply from wooyoung’s shirt as you’re hauled back into the soft muscle of jongho’s chest, your neck craned awkwardly over his shoulder to keep you in place. “what do you want us to say when san is asking about who’s cum he’s eaten from your pussy? do you want us to lie to them?”

you squirm, wincing when his grip on your hair doesn’t loosen despite your attempts to break free. they call you little mouse and right now, you really do feel the part—you walked right into a trap of which there’s no way out.

“maybe i should let you fuck me again just so i can watch when yunho rips your fucking balls off your body!” you grunt through gritted teeth.

jongho hums in amusement, “it was hyperbole, sweetheart,” a pair of cold lips meet the hot skin of your cheek for just a second before pulling away, the softness a stark contrast to the harsh grip he still has you in, “he doesn’t care how much we fuck you as long as we get the job done. after all, he’d be a hypocrite to complain about us fucking you when his dick is inside of you twice as often, hm?”

you watch with cautious eyes as wooyoung stands from his place on the sofa, grinning as wide as the cheshire cat. it reeks of danger, yet you’ve never been the type to give into that sort of thing. you’re a human working for a bunch of vampires; danger is just a regular part of your life at this point.

“besides, mousy,” the cheshire cat purrs, “you think we’re the only ones who talk? you don’t think we know just how much you love calling seonghwa mommy when you ride him? or how much you love it when yeosang spits in your mouth whenever he’s fucking you dumb?” wooyoung brings a hand to your cheek, dusting over your bottom lip with his thumb, “you’re ours, little mouse; we can talk if we want.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut

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annes-andromeda · 10 months

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Wish Rewrite

I have this tendency for rewriting material I either don’t like or think had wasted potential. At the time of writing this, Wish hasn’t come out in theaters but I did pirate it as there was an early screening. I also read the junior novelization and bought the concept art book. Needless to say, I was disappointed by what I read/saw.

I feel like Wish could’ve been better. Granted, the story and characters are not terrible, but they certainly leave much to be desired. This is literally Disney’s 100th anniversary, yet it doesn’t really feel like it. Not only that, but the movie felt incredibly rushed. Yeah I know that most Disney movies try have a run time of 90-100+ minutes, but I think a few more minutes could’ve been added to this film.

So, I decided to indulge myself and outline some changes that I think could’ve made the story slightly better. These ideas are by no means perfect, and in the end, this is all in good fun.

Spoilers ahead btw

The main story of Wish is essentially that Asha wants to get a job as Magnifico’s apprentice so that her grandfather’s wish is granted. But Asha finds out about the King’s true nature, and after questioning him, doesn’t get the job, and Magnifico vows to never grant Sabino or Sakina’s wishes.

Asha makes a wish on a star, and the star comes down, Magnifico tries to hunt down the two of them, he uses an evil spell book to create a staff, Magnifico destroys some wishes, Asha gets help from her friends, they sing a song to defeat Magnifico (I ‘wish’ i was joking), Star gives Asha a magic wand, and all is well.

Oh, and Amaya is… there.

It’s nothing complex, pretty cut and dry. And I don’t have a problem with a simple story! But this feels like it’s… missing something.

Firstly, I’d change the title. Disney already has a boat called Wish, and not every movie needs to be one word like Tangled, Frozen, and Brave (amongst others), so the story could be renamed “Asha and the Wishing Star” or “Asha and the Kingdom of Wishes”. Idk, something that evokes a classic fairytale book feel (or that does confuse people with a boat).

((Side note #1: I honestly enjoy that the story started off with a book, as a nod to classic disney movies, especially Snow White. That was cute))

Secondly, and I know I sound like a broken record at this point…

AMAYA👏🏼SHOULDVE👏🏼BEEN👏🏼A👏🏼VILLAIN👏🏼ALONGSIDE👏🏼HER👏🏼HUSBAND👏🏼

The original plan, according to the concept art book, was to have Magnifico and Amaya to be a villain couple who were partners in crime and owned a black sphinx cat named Charo. However for… reasons, the creators took the ‘safe’ route and made Amaya the good one out of the two.

But the problem is, by erasing Amaya’s evilness, the creators of Wish essentially removed any purpose or personality she may have had and thus, she was left to become a literal ‘supporting’ character. First supporting both Magnifico and Asha, then leaving Magnifico to prop up solely Asha.

Deadass, you can literally remove Amaya from the story and nothing would change. Which is probably why she was exempt from much of the promotional stuff minus the dolls. Because she literally serves no purpose but to be… there.

So, in my version of Wish, Amaya would be a co-conspirator to her husband and yes, I’m adding Charo too. Her personality would be inspired by classic female villains such as the Evil Queen from Snow White, Lady Tremaine from Cinderella, and Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.

Vain, glamorous, cunning, and unabashedly evil, Amaya would be the Morticia to Magnifico’s Gomez, the brains to his brawn. She’s the girlboss, he’s the wife instigator. Magnifico spoils Amaya rotten with countless gifts and praises, whilst Amaya is the more calm and collected evil compared to her husband’s ever-growing temper.

While she starts the story with no magic, Magnifico just can’t leave his wife hanging and shares the power of the evil spell-book with Amaya. And yes, even Charo gets in on the fun, turning from a small house cat, to a massive shape-shifting beast who breaths blue fire similarly to a dragon (shut up i think it’d be cool)

Magnifico and Amaya essentially keep the wishes of Rosas locked in the castle as a form of obedience. By giving the citizens false hope, it makes them more dependent on the royal couple, and the two have more power over everyone.

Anyways, let’s get to the main characters: Asha and Star.

I don’t have much of an issue with Asha’s character, more so her design. I already made a post showing my redesign of her, so that’s out of the way. Tbh tho, I also have an issue with the rest of the costume design of Wish, being a big costume nerd myself. The movie’s supposed to take inspiration from the Mediterranean, primarily places such as Spain and Morocco (and the Amazigh people for Asha), but the fashion feels like generic European medieval fashion.

I feel like the whole storyline of Asha’s interview with Magnifico was pretty pointless, so I would have it that she just starts off as the kings apprentice, whilst also working as Amaya’s scullery maid.

The couple took Asha in when the girl lost her father at the age of 12 (according to the film), and she’s been working for them for five years. Asha works not only to support herself, her family, and her community, but also as a way to distract from the grief of losing her father. Which is no issue, as Amaya always bombards the girl with chores, and Magnifico only teaches Asha the most basic of magic for fear of her growing more powerful than him.

I made Asha work as a scullery maid not only as a reference to princesses such as Snow White and Cinderella starting off their respective stories as maids, but also because scullery maids acted as assistants to the kitchen maids. Dahlia works in the kitchen, Asha and Dahlia are best friends, I figured it made sense.

But anyways, on the day of Sabino’s 100th birthday, Sakina tells Asha to take a break and return home, as she hardly visits anymore due to work. Asha says she’ll try asking the king and queen to get off early, but that she can’t make any promises.

Asha meets with Magnifico and asks for the day off, but the king refuses. However, wanting to keep her loyalty, Magnifico finally shows Asha the wish chamber, and even allows her to witness the wish ceremony that night. But once Asha starts questioning the king on his methods, any goodwill between them begins to fade.

Another thing I’m disappointed in, is that originally Star was going to be a shapeshifting humanoid inspired by the Genie and Peter Pan, and may have even had a romance with Asha. But, the idea was scrapped for the more cutesy, ‘marketable’, version of Star.

In my retelling, I’d choose to do this human shapeshifter version of Star, but I’d name him something else. The star Earendel was mentioned in the concept art book, which is the farthest known star from Earth and not only means ‘morning star’ in Old English, but is also named after the Tolkien character, Eärendil.

I would call this shapeshifter Star Earen, and because Disney loves their animal/cute sidekicks, Earen can have the ‘Kirby’ Star as a companion, just like how Asha has Valentino and Magnifico and Amaya have Charo.

((Side #2: Anybody else notice that Star lowkey looks and sounds like Kirby😶))

Earen and Star journey down to Rosas once they hear Asha’s pleas for guidance. Once Asha tells of Magnifico and Amaya’s lies, Earen reveals that he actually met Magnifico decades ago. The amount of years shocks Asha, as she realizes that the King and Queen might be far older than what they are.

((Side note #3: I didn’t realize this till someone mentioned it, but if Sabino is 100 and he gave Magnifico his wish at 18, then he’s been waiting 82 years for his wish to be granted. Which means it’s likely that Magnifico might be immortal. That, or Disney didn’t think this shit through (most likely)))

Anyways, Earen actually attempted to stop Magnifico and Amaya’s ploy to keep the wishes of Rosas locked away, but he was sealed within the heavens until he and Star heard Asha make her wish.

We can have it that the king and queen spun the story so that Earen was made out to be an evil that once threatened Rosas, but Magnifico banished him and saved everyone, essentially making himself out to be the good guy and manipulating the narrative.

Asha and Earen must now work together to expose the lies of the royal couple, and along the way, the two begin to fall in love. Earen disguises himself as a peasant boy so as to remain inconspicuous, while Asha tries to go about her job as if nothing happened, evading the King and Queen’s suspicions.

Star gives Asha a stick infused with stardust once finding out she is, quite literally, the sorcerers apprentice. It is also so that she may defend herself, as Earen has his powers and a sword (similarly to Peter Pan).

Unlike Magnifico, Earen and Star teach Asha the wonders of magic and the potential she wields, showing that there is no need for her to hold back when her gift can help so many, including those she loves.

The three manage to sneak into the kings study, but only have time to retrieve Sabino’s wish and return it to him. However, Magnifico and Amaya, now strengthened by the powers of dark magic, find Asha and Earen and threaten to destroy all the wishes should Earen not surrender to them.

And as a way to ensure that Asha doesn’t foil their plans, Magnifico destroys both Asha and Sakina’s wishes, despite Asha not being eighteen yet. However, the evil magic allows him to do so. This act weakens the two women, and infuriates Earen.

Earen then willingly complies despite Asha’s opposition, and Sabino takes Asha and Sabina to the seven (well six) teens for aid, who are in hiding after Simon ratted them out and who now serves as a puppet to the king and queen.

Despite loosing her wish, Asha finds the strength to carry on through the memory of her late father, enlisting the help of her friends and Star, who managed to evade the royal couple’s grasp. The team must work together to save Earen, whose power will be drained by Magnifico and Amaya. And if such a feat were to happen, then Earen would die and Rosas would be lost.

The five teens go into the woods to distract one of the royals, with the aid of the forest fauna and Star. Amaya chases the group alongside Charo while Magnifico tortures Earen and begins stealing his power. With the help of Dahlia, Asha sneaks into the castle to confront her former mentor and save Earen before it’s too late.

At first, it seems that the heroes have the upper hand with Magnifico neutralized, but then, Amaya swoops in riding Charo, who now takes the form of a giant dragon. Earen transforms into a dragon himself and battles Charo and Amaya, while Asha continues battling Magnifico. Star even comes to help after the original plan fails.

However, the unholy trio have the upper hand, and Amaya strikes down Earen, giving Magnifico enough time to not only drain Earen’s power, but to trap Star within his staff. With their combined powers, Magnifico and Amaya gather all of the peoples wishes, even stealing the wishes of those not yet of age, which includes the teens.

With all the wishes gathered, the couple and their pet destroy all the wishes, taking their energy for themselves.

Asha falls into despair as she watched her friends, love ones, and community succumb to the grief of loosing their wishes. The king and queen force Asha to apologize to the people, mocking her and making her feel even more guilty.

However, Earen comforts Asha despite his weak state, telling her it’s alright and that she shouldn’t be ashamed of wishing on Star, as he brought the two of them together. The two kiss, the strength of their newfound love and hope shining through the darkness and inspiring the people of Rosas to rise up.

As the sky and stars become alive, Magnifico’s staff is destroyed, releasing Star in the process. All the evil magic he, Amaya, and Charo used is sucked out of them and vanquished, and Earen is restored to full vitality.

Think of this as the transformation scene from Princess and the Frog. Asha and Earen get new outfits, with Asha even gaining a crown and a new wand from Star.

((Side Note #4: The “transformation” in the finale of the film is so stupid. Asha could’ve literally gotten a new dress once she becomes a fairy godmother, but instead, Star just made her sparkly. How magical🙄))

Rosas rejoices, as they realize they don’t need the king to make their wishes come true, and they can pursue them themselves. With Magnífico and Amaya banished from Rosas, Asha and Earen become the new rulers, being names Prince and Princess respectively.

And that’s basically how I would’ve done Wish. It’s not perfect, but it’s just an idea. I’m just disappointed that Disney do something better for their 100th anniversary.

#disney #my writing #disney wish #wish 2023 #king magnifico #queen amaya #magnifico x amaya #princess asha #asha wish #star wish

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hotchs-big-hands · 1 year

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What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

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Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅

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The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.

"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.

"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"

"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.

"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."

The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.

"Oh? Do tell us more."

"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.

"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."

Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.

"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.

Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.

A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.

"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.

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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.

Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.

"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.

"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.

"You're distracted."

Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.

"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.

"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.

"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.

"Anything I can do to help?"

You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.

"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.

"Thank you, sir."

You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.

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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.

"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.

"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."

You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.

"Sorry, I'll drink slower."

JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.

Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.

"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.

"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.

"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.

"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"

You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.

"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"

"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."

More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.

"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."

You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.

"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.

"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.

"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.

"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.

"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.

"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."

Your eyes widened in horror.

"Excuse me?"

Spencer cleared his throat.

"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.

"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."

Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.

It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.

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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.

"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.

"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.

The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.

"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.

"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.

"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.

"She doesn't scare me."

"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."

"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."

You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.

"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.

"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."

A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.

"I'm not getting involved."

Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.

"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.

"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.

"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."

In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.

Oh.

You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.

Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.

"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.

"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.

"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"

The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.

"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."

Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.

"I know that."

"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"

"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."

You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.

"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.

"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.

"I know."

You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.

"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."

Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.

"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.

The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.

There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.

You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.

"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.

"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.

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A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.

Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.

Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.

Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.

"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.

"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."

You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.

"What's wrong?"

Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.

"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."

You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.

"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.

"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.

"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."

Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.

"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.

"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."

He raised a brow at you.

"Really now?"

Your eyes widened and you stuttered.

"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.

"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."

A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.

"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.

"Good night, sir."

He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.

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And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖

#a writes #a's writing #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 5 months

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TKATB: More theories! Yay!

This most certainly will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).

WILL HAVE SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THROUGH DAYS 1 AND 2, I RECOMMEND FINISHING THEM FIRST.

Quite a lot of these may allude to the ones I posted a week(?) ago, but my brain has brained REALLY HARD (almost as hard as when I get when I see Geo) and I think I have more ideas/more specified ideas of what could happen.

- So, I am correct in assuming the fact that the Hallow's Ball is on Day 5 (because Day 1 is in fact Monday); now this might be a stretch, in fact, it probably is, but due to the fact the Higher Class paid a visit to the school, maybe some of them might show up? Or maybe the people who bullied Brittney (think the food fight route) try to publically humiliate her or something, because something tells me she's got a lot of enemies, and something pretty bad is gonna happen to her.

- Geo is mentioned to have been disqualified due to 'accidentally' shooting an arrow at another person and it cutting their hair. Jess mentions we'd have to go 'next year' to see him partake again, so I'm gonna guess this competition is an annual thing. Maybe (and I'm assuming this as well) Geo and Hyugo were part of the Higher Class (because their dad works with the city's Founder, so that's gotta be High Class if I've ever heard it), but they were moved down. Geo is seemingly using archery to try and get selected to return back to the Higher Class, but if so, why get purposefully disqualified over almost potentially killing someone? Maybe, someone *really* pissed him off, or maybe got him sent down for whatever reason (we know Geo has daddy issues so maybe his father treats him like shit because of it) and he's subtly trying to threaten them?

- Along with that, MC wonders why he didn't get arrested. Think about it, he's got money, a lot of it. Hyugo says how corrupt this city is, their father (I believe Geo is an illegitimate child, due to the mother cheating or smth idk) probably paid the cops to not give a shit.

- Hyugo also has a LOT of connections, is often MIA, and is in the student council, so he's got influence. (Maybe adding salt to Geo's wounds indirectly?) I have a feeling he goes MIA for his syndicate activities (he has access to sleeping pills); and maybe because he's part of the council and gets stupidly high ass grades, nobody questions it. Besides, he's probably got some sketchy operations going on to maintain it all.

- With Crowe asking about Marie Antoinette, I now feel that our 'responses' to whether she was a good or horrible person are things HE did. "She was ignorant, she raved while people were starving..." - MC to Crowe when choosing the 'She was a horrible person' choice. I'll ignore the latter part for now, because that was a normal thing for rich people to do at the time. But the ignorant part is interesting. Maybe the reason Crowe is so nice (and it's not a facade, according to Fantasia herself) is because he's trying to redeem himself? Sol, if you don't skip class and let him escort you, states: "Ichabod (Crowe's surname) it's always been you. I should have dealt with him years ago..." So, maybe, at some point, Crowe had a pristine relationship with his family, mother specifically, (he doesn't anymore) and the reasoning behind this is due to the fact he believed he was superior? Maybe he was even a bully at some point? Hell, maybe he even made fun of Sol, and Sol wants to obliterate him for it. He (Crowe) was making him (Sol), and now he is trying to steal his so(u)lmate?! How fucking dare he?!

- Brittney also states that she's astonished about how Deryl has almost no friends, so I think that's incredibly fascinating, because it's true. How does a bubbly, happy jock like him get ignored by so many? Maybe because he helped Brittney (along with Jess) when she was low?

- Again, about Brittney, I feel that that frat party 2 years ago shattered her reputation, her image, everything. I bet some damaging info got spread about her and it led to her 'mysteriously' leaving the cheerleading squad, becoming more isolated and essentially (I'm assuming this) getting moved down with Jess. (Check previous one for why I think Jess got moved down as well, but tldr is she lost her shit, maybe got physical and it got her and Brittney sent to the worse school together). - On Fantasia's twitter, there's a Day 3 nsfw image of Sol essentially standing in front of a mirror with blood everywhere (ill link the slideshow that i have of every image i found/liked), anyway it's the right one on slide 9; with the caption "All I see are flaws"....so maybe if you ignore him on Day 3 and hang out with Crowe, he'll start losing his shit? Maybe thinking he isn't good enough? - Also, in the Day 2 NSFW scene, there are some prominent burn marks on Sol's back...does he get abused to this day? Does he live alone and they're scars?????? Maybe that's what he meant when he says "I've been dealt worse" in relation to the bullying? He does have history with them after all.

So. That's basically it, brain will continue to brain. Until then, ciao. (and yes the Geo fanfic is coming dw) Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wb_biHRk6g1gKj0WZ5XVwEtKGjFRTapDYerlEyhYPGE/edit#slide=id.g2cffd4cd112_0_34

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gretavanlace · 6 months

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Sugar II (part 9)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, angst, language, the tiniest amount of alcohol consumption, digital penetration, masturbation, oral sex (fem rec), anal play, unprotected sex, etc

Okay, sweet peas, we’ve got one more chapter to go (maaaaybe two idk), but all your favorites will be back! Plus an epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking with me after I did sugar jake so dirty the first time around ❤️

The air is lush and fragrant with herbs, sizzling eggs, and Jake when you wake - though his side of the bed has already cooled.

He’s all around you. Clothes and scuffed boots tossed about the room. Guitar case propped open sans Gibson - where has she gone? The scent of his skin clinging to yours. The gentle bustle of him milling around in the kitchen. You roll over and shamelessly bury your face in the pillow he rested his pretty head upon last night. Drawing him in with a shiver of content…he is home and you are basking in the comfort that is the great return.

He’s humming something to himself, and though you can barely hear - and you certainly can’t place the song - you try to hum along, laughing quietly to yourself when it comes out sounding muddled and strange as you search for a melody you don’t know.

It doesn’t matter. If he’s humming, you want to hum along. You’d like to walk beside him always, twisted and tangled together like a silken braid of devotion.

Seduced by his silly siren’s song, your feet hit the floor as you search for something to throw on. You settle on the black blazer he’s tossed over the back of a chair and pad down the hallway. Lulled and lured by his quiet chaos.

You find him, back to the doorway, gingerly shaking a pan with one hand and tossing what looks to be diced veggies with the other, totally at ease and at home. A gorgeous, disheveled chef complete with yesterday’s sweats, t shirt that’s torn at the neck, and tangled hair.

Should you stand and watch him awhile? It sounds tempting…to watch him work, a sneaky, head over heels fly on the wall. The way he moves, every shift of muscle is intoxicating. Yes, you are bewitched, but even standing here bathed in his presence, you miss him, and that wins out.

”Morning, Jakey,” you smile, breaking his concentration.

”There’s my sugar,” he tosses you a look over his shoulder that stops your heart. “I’m making you breakfast, my love. Would you like coffee or tea?”

Bare feet dancing over chilled tile, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek between his shoulder blades, “Whatever you’re having.”

He backs up a little, no doubt worrying about your arms - though they are protected by his jacket - being too near to the stove, and turns, pulling you closer while walking you backwards towards the island, “How about we share a cup of tea? You hungry?”

Flashes of memories burn through your brain…last night, in the foyer wrapped up together on the floor while he kissed your body and wept. On the couch while you talked about how exactly this all might work. Later, in a bed that wasn’t yours, in sheets you wouldn’t wash.

You should be thoroughly sated, but yes…you are hungry.

”How’d I get so lucky, little girl?” His lips curve into a grin that derails your thoughts and replaces them with something much softer. Your heart is weak for the look in his eyes…the unapologetic, worshipful love that blazes there. “How did I manage to earn this?”

”Earn what?” You smile back, praying that the emotion pounding in your heart is as evident in your gaze as it is in his, “Us?”

His eyes duck away with a shy nod, “I just never thought I’d have you like this again. In my arms, not going anywhere. Staying.”

Your fingertips are at his cheeks, sweeping over the perfect warmth of his skin, soft as air, “Jake, you didn’t earn anything. You’ve always held my heart.”

Still unwilling to meet your gaze, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “You took it away.”

”No,” you argue in a hush. Can he really not see? “I left it with you. You’re the only reason it beats, anyway. But if you don’t feed me soon, I fear I may perish.”

”Drama queen.” He grins, pecking your cheeks each in turn, grateful that you’ve eased his mind and calmed his tender nerves.

The kettle begins to scream and you patter off to the table tucked into the corner, homey and quaint, to watch him work to take care of you. Soon, you’re gifted a steaming mug along with another kiss dropped atop your head. “Splash of rum and a sprinkle of cinnamon, sugar. It’s 9 o’clock in the morning, you lush.”

”Trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me, Jake?” You tease back, watching as he moves to finish things up at the stove, throat seizing with aching affection…he remembers how you take your tea.

”I don’t have to get you inebriated for that,” he sounds gravelly and full of himself, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I could fuck you however and wherever I so felt the inclination, my lovely little doll, and you would grace me with your gracious and enthusiastic appreciation.”

You bat your lashes wildly at him as he presents two plates heaped with brightly colored, expertly sautéed vegetables and fluffy, scrambled eggs like cheery, sunny clouds. A bowl of swollen, fuschia raspberries deposited between your plates like a pile of sweetened jewels steals the show. “Oh, be still my heart…you know how I enjoy it when you speak like a dictionary.”

”I know, sugar,” there’s that beaming smile of his again as he offers you a berry, lightly teasing it at your lips until you open up for him. “plenty more where that came from.”

A comfortable quiet sparks to life as you both dig in and pass the teacup back and forth. He finally breaks it, speaking up around a bite of potatoes and peppers. “I spoke to Josh this morning.”

”And how is your missing piece?” You quirk an eyebrow over the top of the cup you have now commandeered.

He leans back in his chair and settles his gaze upon you, clocking your expression closely, searching for a reaction. “Obnoxious as ever. He’s annoyed with me because I haven’t looked over the lyric revisions he sent me, and I certainly couldn’t care less if I actively tried. However, he’s very excited to see you. Cross though he might be with his dear brother.”

”Hello, Oliver,” you wink, “Let’s have Jacob back, shall we?”

You haven’t forgotten Jake’s tendency for trotting out Mr. Reed when he’s dipping a toe or two into the waters of vulnerability.

“Do you miss him?” He asks quietly, “Do you want things to be the way they were before? Because I can live with that if it means you’ll stay.” He rushes on as if he fears he may lose his nerve. “I want you to be happy, whatever it takes, I just want you to be happy.”

Fork clinking lightly against your plate as your focus zeros in on his lovely face, you lean forward and reach for his hand “Did he tell you he came to see me? After I ran into Danny that day?”

His fingers slip into your waiting palm with a soft squeeze, “He mentioned that he found you and asked you hide away until we’d gone. I’ve never wanted to hurt him as badly as I did then. Not even when we were young and stupid. Not even that night, when he forced me to let you go.”

“He was only trying to protect you, jake.” Your head tilts, watching residual pain flare to life in his eyes. “I’ve done a great many things to hurt you, it’s a wonder he doesn’t hate me for it.”

“He could never hate you, sugar. Don’t say things like that, it would break his heart to hear them.” The conviction in his words is fierce, and that makes sense…they share a life force at times, it seems.

“He did ask me to hide away, yes…” you nod, wrapping your free hand around his knuckles, warming his touch with your own, “But did he tell you anything else about our visit? Did he tell you how easy it was for us? How we caught up and laughed and looked at each other like very old friends that had been lost to each other for too many years?”

His shoulders tense as though he’s bracing for a gentle impact, but on you march, whispering to him in this unfamiliar kitchen that feels fat full of love.

”Did he tell you that it didn’t even hurt, our being in the same room with everything so fucking different? Did he know that all I could do was sit there, falling silently apart and searching for you in his eyes?”

“But you loved him.” Now it’s his turn to search your eyes, but for what you’re not sure. “I don’t want you to have to tamp that out. Not ever. You love so beautifully, sugar. I can share.”

”I did love him,” you nod. “Very much. A long time ago. I love him still. Differently. And not the way I love you. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. You don’t have to share. Not anymore.”

His grip is pulling at you now, tugging you to your feet and into his arms, creaking the worn wood of his chair beneath the weight of you both as he buries his face into your bare chest, hiding his tears in the lapels of his blazer as he weeps into your skin.

“Shh, baby,” you soothe, stroking through his hair, holding onto him as he clings to you as if you might vanish like a sigh.

His face tilts upward, lips brushing over your chin and jaw, licking and tasting you through his tears. “I love you, sugar. Sometimes I feel like all this love I have for you is just going to break me into pieces, like I can’t hold it all inside. There’s no room for it. I’m too small.”

”Jake,” you feel like you could break into pieces right alongside him as he begins tugging his jacket away from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, hushing you silently, “So, I’m going to take all this love and I’m going to give it all to you. And I’m gonna fill our house with it, press it into the walls and let it seep into the floorboards. Every nail and every window is going to feel it. The pipes and hinges. The chimney is going to breathe it into the night when we light fires in the winter. And we’re going to have babies and I’m going to love them just as much, and I can’t wait to watch you love them…”

You feel baptized in his tears and the wet, warm press of his mouth as he tattoos beautiful promises into your flesh. How could you ever have believed that you wanted anything other than this?

“I’m going to exist for you every single day, sugar…” a sob escapes him, though he tries so hard to bite it back, “I already do…I always have.”

“I know, baby…it’s okay,” you’re kissing adoration into his hair, combing your fingers through the tangles, coddling him and cooing the softest endearments, desperate to mollify his soul, fraught to offer him peace. “Please don’t cry, jakey. You know I can’t stand it.”

Hearing his own words lilting off of your tongue, he pauses and gazes up into your eyes like he sees everything he’ll ever need in them, “When I said that to you, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to be…gone. I didn’t want to live in a world where you wore his ring on your finger with tears in your eyes. Will you miss him?”

Should you lie? Perhaps. But wouldn’t he see the untruths lying bare? Wouldn’t that hurt even worse? Your deception?

“Yes,” you nod, petting him as he presses in closer, “he was kind to me, and sweet. He made me laugh. He made me half-way happy enough to pretend. I’ll miss him sometimes…but never enough to look back and regret chasing after you.”

“I’m glad he was kind to you,” he whispers, kissing a drunken, winding path across the tops of your breasts, “you deserve kind. He loved you, I could see that. I didn’t want to, but I could. And maybe I hated that, but I would have hated the alternative so much more. I’m sure he loves you still.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you laugh softly, “he wasn’t very pleased with me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sugar,” he stares up at you with eyes laced heavily in adulation, “you don’t leave a man alone so easily. You linger and overstay your welcome in the worst way. Learn to leave a room, sweetheart.”

He has pulled another laugh out of you, louder and bell like this time…it twists his heart with heated, pulsing adoration.

”Jake,” you pause, waiting for him to give you his honey brown eyes, “You were right when you said none of it matters. This matters.” Your palm finds your heartbeat for a moment, and then his own.

”I know, my love…” tears skate along his lash line like blissful, shimmering quartz, “I know.”

His mouth is at your throat, gentle hand splaying out across your abdomen, holding you down against the cool, polished wood of the table.

Fingers playing at your lips, he breaks a raspberry apart between his fingers before sweeping it over your waiting tongue. “You’re so beautiful, sugar. Aren’t you? Aren’t you my pretty, pretty girl?”

His shirt has landed on the tile, forgotten and worthless to this task at shaking hand.

“Yes,” nails digging into his shoulders to remind him of where you’ve been, of where your touch belongs, you nod fervently beneath his kiss, “I’m your pretty girl, Jakey. I’m your girl.”

Lips beginning a path up your cheek to your temple, he hums euphorically and grasps at your ankles, tugging gingerly until your heels are resting on the table. “Will you show me?” His voice is silken and inquisitive, tongue fluttering over your earlobe to bring chills to life inside you. “Hmm? Will you show me how pretty you are for me?”

”Anything,” you pant, arching away from the table, desperate to be closer to him as he pulls back.

You watch on, body throbbing and screaming for him while he pops a raspberry into his mouth and settles back into his chair, legs spread wide, hands fisted into flexing balls at his knees, “Touch yourself for me, sugar. Rub your sweet little clit, nice and slow, just for me.”

Maybe you’d like to say your body protests, maybe you ought to say that you shy away, maybe if you weren’t so indescribably in love with him you’d do both of those things, but as it stands….

….as it stands, you give him what he’s asked for without thought. There isn’t a breath of hesitation. You simply roll two fingers over your tongue, reach down between your thighs, and begin.

The hushed moan that tumbles off the tip of your tongue tugs a sigh from his lungs that sets you further on fire. He sounds so beautiful, so wholly under a spell that you can’t fathom having the ability to cast over this deity of a man.

“There’s my good girl,” he is so quiet, you’d scarcely hear him were your focus not so completely honed in on jake jake jake, “Does that feel good, little girl? Is my sugar making that pretty pink pussy feel just so nice?”

He is an obscene angel staring you down with snarled hair and wicked sin in his wild eyes.

A trembling sound is all you’re able to manage as your touch dips inside yourself to draw slick back up to your clit.

”Yeah?” he tilts his head, watching you reverently, “It looks like it does. You’re dripping all over the table. I want to lick it up.”

“Please,” your fingers circle faster, but something is missing. He, close though he might be, is missing.

”Please, what?” He sounds as needy and hungry as you feel. “Tell me what you want me to do to you and I’ll do it, baby. Whatever you want…I’ll fucking do it.”

”Your mouth,” your legs spread wider until your hips protest, and then you spread a little wider in offering. “I’d like to have your mouth please, Jakey. Please. lick me, please, please.”

A groan rumbles out of his chest like pained thunder as he wraps his arms around your thighs, tugging you in and burying his mouth exactly where you’ve so politely begged for it. Another anguished sound pushes from his lungs as he drinks down his first mouthful of you.

The tip of his tongue teases over your shivering clit, and then slinks down to dip inside you, and then down farther still to lap against that heavenly little spot where it shouldn’t be.

He hums against you while you whine and yank at his hair, pulling his kiss in closer as your hips lift away from the wood you’re making such a mess of.

“Fuck,” your fingers lace through his hair perhaps just a bit too tightly, but a quiet grunt signals his appreciation, “right there.”

“I know where you like my mouth every now and then, sugar,” his words are hot against you as his thumb slides, warm and thick, inside your cunt “Dirty girl.”

Watching you shy away so endearingly squeezes at his chest. You have always given yourself to him so completely. You have always been his girl. His mouth has known every breathtaking inch of your body in a hundred different lifetimes. His heart has known your heart in a thousand more.

Your fingers search out your clit, neglected and crying out for attention, completing that lovely trifecta as you rock your hips, fucking his face without shame.

He is yours and you will take him.

Your belly is burning, white hot and tight, coiling and churning as your body begins to tremble and flush.

“Gonna cum…” A complete sentence seems an impossible task “I— oh, please, please, please,”

His fingers replace his thumb with a feral growl low in his throat, tucking up in behind your clit as you watch his arm begin to move rhythmically below the table.

”Don’t cum,” you order through whimpers and whines that sound anything but authoritative. How difficult it proves to be to be bossy when his tongue is warm and wet where you shouldn’t adore it so damn much.

”I won’t,” his promise is beautifully muffled. “But I want you to do it. Cum for me, fuck doll…give it up pretty.”

You tighten deliciously around his searching tongue and delving fingers as it crawls through you like sinking into a warm bath that swirls with glittering, lilac goldfish. They kiss your skin soft as monarch wings; strange, swimming beings in the waters that are Jacob. It is lovely, though given the filth that has ushered you into this state, maybe that makes no sense.

He works you carefully until your breathing begins to stutter and gasp uncomfortably, and then there is his striking and stunning face - cheeks blazing with desire - kissing and licking up your body as you squirm languidly.

“Was that good, baby?” His teeth are dragging against the swell of your breast now, igniting a fire within you anew.

Jacob, always so cocksure and confident, sounds famished for your approval. How strange.

You hand it over willingly and honestly, on a silver platter of affection, “So, good, Jakey…I love you so much.”

“You taste like fucking candy everywhere,” his praise is little more than a whispered murmur as he buries into the crook of your neck, “I want you in my mouth and under my fingertips forever, for fucking always.”

The tip of his cock, full and hot like velvet, sweeps across your entrance, teasing inside just a breath before pulling back and then nudging in all over again.

“Put it in,” your fingers are clawing lazily at his hips, silently trying to guide him into action, “Fuck Jake, please baby, just slip it inside and—“

He grinds his hips forward, cutting you off, filling you up, pulsing and slick and hot and…

”My girl,” his words are humid at your throat as he whimpers through a physical shudder. “My sugar, my love. That’s my baby, that’s it…taking it so well. You feel so fucking good.”

His wandering fingers find and sweep over your clit with a glide as sweet as satin, and it has you clenching down around him so wildly his eyes snap shut with a furrowed brow, mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Buried to the hilt now, those eyes lull open to stare down where your bodies connect. “Looks so pretty stretched around my cock. How’d this little cunt ever get so beautiful?”

Your cheek turns to meet the cool of the oak you're draped across, embarrassed in the most blissful way, but he is positively weak for the way his words cause your thighs to tighten around his waist.

His name begins to burn out of your lungs, smoking into the sun-soaked kitchen like a prayer.

”That’s it,” he sounds faraway, like he’s crooning to you from across the room, “My name, sugar…always my name.”

And then, there is his thumb, soaked in your need and brushing against that spot just below where his cock is dragging in and out of your cunt.

A wanton cry for more bleeds out of you, bringing forth another knit of his brow as he sinks inside you to follow the deep thrust of his cock, “‘Oh my’, right sugar? Isn’t that how my fuck doll reacts? All sweet like a lady, to being filled up so full?”

His loving, mocking tone snatches you back full circle to that very first night with him that seems so long ago…he has been all you’ve ever wanted, ever since. He is all you will ever want.

He is every direction, the night and the day, every song ever written…every poem ever wept onto pages, every star that will light the skyline tonight and all the ones that came before. He is every beat of your pulse, every breath in your lungs - and when you breathe your last, it will be his name on your lips.

White explodes behind your eyes as fireworks detonate down deep inside you, sparkling a crackling-like frenetic energy throughout your nervous system until you are tightened up and writhing with it…cumming so hard, so fucking hard, that you nearly force his beautiful cock right out of your body.

He follows your lead and pulls away, tugging at himself violently as you shower down over him like the filthiest, most exquisite drops of summer-of-love rain.

“Oh fuck, sugar, please,” he’s whining as his release lands hot and frantic against your quivering stomach, but for what, neither of you know.

You’re lost in his faraway expression, watching him fight for a deep breath as you search for your own composure when your fingers sweep through a milky ribbon painted across your navel…you want to taste him, but his grip is wrapped firmly around your wrist in an instant, with your fingers nestled against his cashmere tongue.

“I’ll clean my pretty girl up myself, if she doesn’t mind.” His mouth brushes soothingly at your hip just before he begins licking up his own release, eyes cast upwards to your own as you shake, stunned and blissfully shellshocked.

At last, you find your voice as his bubblegum pink tongue curls over the last drop, “You taste good, don’t you, Jakey?”

“Not as good as you, sugar,” His mouth is on yours now, kissing far too sweetly for what you know him to be capable of. “not even close.”

“Shower?” He pops another raspberry into your mouth and then nuzzles against your nose.

”Bath.” You correct, nearly melting into the table beneath his love.

A sponge, fresh out of its package and now smothered in body wash, drags across your chest as his chest rests against your back.

”We leave tonight?’ Your voice sounds unfamiliar…too content, too relaxed. It’s been such a long time since you’ve sounded this way. Since you’ve been so completely happy.

”I wish we could stay longer,” he kisses at your drenched, now squeaky clean hair, “just you and me.”

”Me too,” you sigh, settling back into his embrace even more, “but I’m also excited to see those idiots you call brothers. Especially the baby.”

”He’s missed you.” More kisses to clutch at your already stolen heart. “Nothing was the same without you, sugar. Time to come home.”

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winterarmyy · 1 year

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Imagine a like avenger!Bucky x shape shifter! Reader.

It could be enemies to lovers smut too because why not?

The reader is the beast boy but a girl version...you can make them green

I don't see skin color 🙄(I'm joking,I'm black)

What if you make the reader green it could be like Bucky's in his room and he hears crying so he follows the sound to find y/n crying because she messed up on a mission and some agents said mean things idk and he is trying to comfort her and then they kiss and then more idk

Then, if she isn't green it could be .....sex pollen...she gets hit with sex pollen while on a mission and comes back...well you know worked up? She's in pain and even those Bucky "hates her" he also wants to help her so he..how do I say this.. he fucks her brains out.

I'm Not Like Her

Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body look and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.

Note: I'm not even open for asks but your brilliant mind just spark something in me! Plus, i see you a lot in my comments so here you are... and the pic is hilarious btw 🤣

Pairing: avenger!bucky x shape shifter!reader

Words: 1.5k++

Warnings: mild enemies to lovers, hint fat shaming, angst, bucky likes to tease the reader but not too much, fluff, cause he secretly loves her, allusion to smut??? and sam just being himself.

Idea explanation: personally i don't think i'm qualified enough to write about being discriminate against for skin color. I need more research of it.

BUT, physically, i am on the curvy side. I don't have a flat stomach, my thighs are bigger than they supposed to. cause i'm fucking 4'11 (so i look fat for my height). And i know what it feels like when people comment abt that.

Soooooo instead of turning green, imagine that the reader doesn't have the fit and perfect model-like body like other agents. Her powers? She can shape shift into any living being (person/animals/aliens) for a short amount of time, like 3-7mins.

Bucky Barnes is a bully. He'd do anything to annoy the shit out of Y/N. Everything he does just ticked her off, you name it; hair pulling, cheeks pinching, mean little jokes about how Y/N would suffocate him to death if she ever sit on him.

Bucky Barnes acts exactly like a mean teenage boy who bullies the person he likes. But she doesn't know that, does she?

What she knew was he is a menace that loves to see her bright red, in embrassment and anger. What she knew was he likes to dig into her skin and ripped her heart out from how vexingly mean he is with her.

But, he was never cruel. No. He is the sweetest a man can be when he wants to. She still remembered those days he would drop off bunch of her favorite snacks and sweets during that week she was hospitalized from a rough mission.

Don't get her wrong though, he still teases her A LOT during those visits but it was sweet of him to come by and cheer her up.

But if he wasn't cruel. Then, why was she on the verge of tears?

Y/N stood alone in the kitchen, her hands strongly gripped onto the edges of the counter like she would shatter it with her bare hands. At time like this, she wished nothing more than just to shift into a bird and fly away.

Just so far away that no will able to catch her.

But those agents certainly did shot a bullet through the thickness of her gut when they said those words.

Y/N was just going to grab a cold drink after her sparring with Bucky, when she heard their vile whispers. She stopped at her tracks and hid behind the wall the moment she heard her name was mentioned.

"I don't understand why we keep her around. Did you see her panting for air from a quick sparring with Barnes? And doesn't she sound like a pig?" He sneered.

"We keep y/n around cause she has powers you, dumbass. Why are you being mean anyway, didn't you guys had a thing like 2 weeks ago?" The other voice said.

"It was a prank. Didn't think she'd believe it. Me dating her? Please. Not in any universe." He trailed, "Though if she shift into Natasha, then maybe I'll consider fucking her." Y/N could hear his smirk even from the block of the walls.

The other man laughed as if it was funny, "But it only lasts so long though? What if she turn back into herself when you have your cock inside her?"

The man gagged and said, "Ewww please stop. That's just fucking disgusting."

And when they left the kitchen, Y/N aimlessly went to the area. What was she gonna do just now? Oh, get some cold water. But why won't her hands move? They've been digging into the hard surface of the counter for how long now? If she goes any harder, her fingers would bleed. And why's her vision was blurry? Why there's wetness on her cheeks?

She didn't even notice that she was crying, beause she was so focused on fixing her own broken heart. And even if her pride was left to almost nothing, but she held on. She chose hold on to it for as long as could. Cause deep down she knew they were right.

No one's gonna love her for who she is, they will always be blinded by the flaw of her body and not see the pure of her heart. And if that is the ugly truth she had to face, then she chose to love herself. To be proud of herself.

But it is so hard does it? How can you love yourself when no one else is willing to love you?

"Doll?" Bucky's voice was soft when he called her that she didn't even heard him the first time around.

When Bucky heard sounds of someone sniffling, he knew that someone was crying. So he followed the hiccups of voice to the kitchen. But he didn't expect the culprit would be Y/N.

He almost rushed to her when she continued to sob, "Hey hey hey, what's wrong sweets? Did you hurt yourself?" He briefly cupped the softness of her cheeks before slightly holding up her hands to see if there's any cut from it.

When he noticed that there weren't any physical injuries, the tense of his muscles relaxed just a little bit. His big hands went to reach her face again, and gently wiped her tears away. He was so tender with his hold but his tone was far from it, "Who did this to you?"

And she told him exactly what happened. Even with hiccups in between her ranting breath. He listened. He listened to every single word she had to say, not cutting into her confession, not even once. And Y/N didn't know why she told him that. He supposed to be the last person she complained to about her look, about her weakness, about her flaws.

Bucky Barnes, the same one that loves to tease her about it all. He wasn't supposed to hear the dooms of her heart. But, he was. He was listening to her.

And he was seeing red.

Bucky had never felt rage this powerful in his life, he swore that if he let it consume him, the tower would be painted with blood. But, he held back. For her.

Because she needed someone to be there for her. And Bucky felt he was the luckiest to be that person.

"I'm not like her." She whispered tiredly. "I'm not like her, Bucky. I'm not attractive like Natasha or pretty like Zendaya or even Steve at that matter, like he has such tiny waist for his built, and he's a fucking man!!" She ranted every minor things that bothered her to him.

Bucky thought of his words for a while and simply said, "Yes, you're not like Natasha, or Zendaya, or Steve..." he chuckled at the end, "...But that's the best bits about you, doll." There was this flare in his eyes that Y/N couldn't wrap her finger around it.

"Are you making fun of me, right now?" She glared in between the tears in her eyes.

"No, I'm only telling you the truth." Bucky tucked her hair as he continued, "So what if you're not like her? There will always be someone that will see you more that just a piece of meat to fuck."

"Well, then I won't have that someone then."

"Oh, but I know one person though." Bucky grinned, "Me."

Y/N was rendered speechless when he confessed his true feelings.

"Doll, have you ever wonder why I love pinching your cheeks so much?" His fingers started to trail across her cheeks and his stare lingered in her eyes as his naughty hands find their way to her hips.

"It's because I was desperately trying to avoid grabbing these soft, thick thighs of yours." his eyes darkened the moment that he said, "And oh baby the things I'd do for you just to slide my cock between them."

It was like she was hypnotized by the way his hardened bulge grinding against her tummy. It felt good and his lust-filled gaze was doing nothing but making her wet, "Bucky..." she whispered.

Bucky lips was so gentle on her eyelids and her temple, until his teeth grazed along her neck and his groaning call reached her ears, "And do you know why I was pissed when we were sparring just now?" Asked before quickly clarifying, "It's not because I lost to you."

He grinded a particularly hard thrust against her that he accidentally moan in pleasure, "Oh babydoll, no. It's because I have this absolutely gorgeous girl on top of me, and her slutty body was just so close to me that I got so fucking hard. "

Bucky lifted her face towards his to watch how she was melted in his touch, "I was so pissed, because I can't fuck you the way I want to." His lips was so close, hovering over her own as he confessed.

But suddenly they felt a splash of water hitting side of their face, "Woah woah woah. Down, boy. Bad bucky. Bad!" Sam yelled. Imagine his surprise when he got into the kitchen to see Bucky literally humping on Y/N like a dog in heat.

They didn't even notice him approaching them with a glass of water in his hand.

Though Y/N was absolutely red in embrassement, but surely Bucky doesn't give a fuck. He didn't even acknowledge Sam's pleas to stop, especially when he crashed his lips on hers.

Y/N moaned lewdly as he effortlessly lifted her on the kitchen isle, feeling his clothed cock rubbing against her needy cunt. At that point, who cares if anyone's watching. She wanted him so bad. As bad as he wanted ruin her.

Sam scrambled backwards when Bucky started to unzip his pants, "Shit he's going feral." He dramatically ran across the halls leading to the kitchen as he announced, "Okay people, out. Get out. No one is allowed to the kitchen unless you want to be in debt cause I am not paying for your therapy."

Safe to say the kitchen was a fucking mess when Bucky was done with her and the cleaning crew was traumatized by the amount of wetness and cum they had to clean around the area.

End.

A/N: This was so random but I hope you enjoyed it! Drop some thoughts behind for me to pick up and squeal at, would you?

#random asks 💌#yinn writes 📝#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky

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noforkingclue · 8 months

Note

Bestie, I just saw the Calvin Klein ad for JAW, and he got me thirsty for some Carmy. I'm thinking childhood friend he was head over heels for before he left and never told them. friend comes to the Bear and something cute occurs?

idk bestie my brain just fried itself coming up with just that, message me if you want more info and I'll pull something out of my ass

Note: requests are currently close

Ugh, same! That ad was certainly something!

I hope you like the fic :)

Title: Reunion

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites. @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

It felt strange coming back to the restaurant after so many years staying away from it. You popped in occasionally after Mike’s suicide but it never really felt the same. You hadn’t really been a regular since Carmy left (not that he was ever in the restaurant that often) but now you had a reason to come back. You smiled as you walked through the doors and into the familiar restaurant, however you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. You really shouldn’t have stayed away for so long.

“Oi, y/n, where the fuck have you been?”

The lunch rush had died down and you beamed at Richie who was behind the counter. He gave you an unimpressed look but you could see the amusement in his eyes.

“Missed me?” you asked teasingly

“Fuck no.”

“Then I guess I’m not welcome here.”

“You don’t get to leave this fucking quickly. Not after being away for so fucking long.”

Richie practically pushed you into a seat and you rolled your eyes teasingly. Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed away for so long. You looked over your shoulder as you heard the door slam open.

“What the fuck- y/n?”

Ah. And there was the reason why you decided to visit again. Carmy was staring at you wide eyed. You smiled softly and stood up.

“Heya Carm.”

“Y/n… you’re here… I thought…”

The colour started to rise to Carmy’s cheeks and you stood up and walked over to him. He seemed mildly startled and stumbled back.

“I’ve got to, y’know, go to the kitchen. Start cooking.”

Carmy practically ran into the kitchen and you couldn’t help but feel deflated. You had always been too afraid to tell him your feelings and when he went away you knew your chance had been lost. You had tried to move on (emphasis on tried) but seeing Carmy again ignited all your old feelings. You went back to your table and slumped into your seat. Well, that certainly cleared things up about Carmy’s feelings towards you.

What you didn’t know was that Carmy was having a similar dilemma in the back. Syd stood in front of the door to his office. She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows at him.

“What’s going on out there.” she said

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Cousin here was always fucking in love with y/n out there,” Richie said as he slung an arm over Carmy’s shoulders, “but he didn’t have the fucking balls to tell her before he left.”

“I wasn’t in love with her,” Carmy snapped, shrugging Richie’s arm off of him, “she was a friend.”

“But he always wanted it to be more.” said Richie

“No I fucking didn’t!”

“Well y/n certainly did,” Tina said from the kitchen, “you never noticed the looks she kept giving you.”

When nobody responded Tina looked up from her chopping. Richie was giving Carmy an amused and smug look while Syd looked intrigued, clearly wanting to hear more. The colour had drained from Carmy’s face and he was looking paler than usual.

“What?” Tina said, “It was fucking obvious.”

“I didn’t know.” said Carmy weakly

“‘Course you fucking didn’t.” Tina said rolling her eyes

“Then now’s your fucking chance,” said Richie, “to stop your fucking pining.”

“I don’t pine.” snapped Carmy

“Well maybe now would be a good time to-” started Syd

“I have work to do,” said Carmy, “we have the dinner rush- hey, what the fuck are you doing!”

Richie grabbed Carmy and practically pushed him out of the kitchen. You looked up when Carmy stumbled out. An awkward silence settled between you and you thought that Carmy was going to run away again. Instead he took a deep breath and went over to you and sat down opposite you. You smile gently at him but Carmy was looking down at the table.

“So,” you said, “long time no see.”

“Yeah.”

“I missed you.”

“I…”

Carmy cut himself off, unable to tell you how he really felt. You pursed your lips but didn’t press the issue. You knew Carmy too well to push him too far.

“Not in the kitchen then?” you asked

“No I-”

Carmy ran a hand over his face. He couldn’t exactly tell you that he was forced out here. How he really wanted to be here with you but didn’t know if he could do it.

“To tell you the truth,” you said, “I’m glad you’re out here.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I-”

This time it was you who cut off mid sentence. You tried to find the right words as Carmy looked up slowly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I wanted to catch up.” you finished lamely, the courage you had originally felt disappearing

“Catch up?”

“Well, among other things.” you muttered, face hot

“Such as?”

“Oh you know.”

“Would you like to get dinner?”

You looked at Carmy wide eyed and even he seemed shocked at his outburst.

“Only if you want,” he said, retreating back into his shell slightly, “If not just forget I said anything.”

“Yes,” you said quickly, “Yes I do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

It took Carmy a second to realise what you had said. In a flash he was on his feet and offering you his hand which, much to his surprise, you took.

“Shall we go somewhere else,” he said, “I don’t think we’ll get complete privacy here.”

You glanced over at the kitchen and immediately heard people running back into the kitchen. You heard the familiar yelling of Richie and smiled.

“Sounds like a plan.”

#fanfiction #the bear #reader insert #request #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader

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izukusjuicythighs · 2 months

Text

bkdk fics i read because was it ever casual

Horikoshi keeps feeding us bkdk crumbs like wtf??at this point they HAVE to be canon bkdk hospital kiss confirmed I was izukus freckle ALSO IM KINDA IN A BLOCK RN whenever I finish a fic my yappin brain always has something to say but rn its real quiet so uh🤡

left me no choice(but to stay here forever)

summary: Izuku learns early on in life that the people he loves will always leave him.

So when Kacchan asks him to be his boyfriend, Izuku kisses him and starts grieving for the inevitable.

words: 6,925

chapters: 3/4(updating)

notes: im quite aware that its a bitchy move to inflict pain on ppl but jm gonna do it anyways lol READ THIS AND WEEP I literally wanted to gorge my heart out and then slap all of my love into izuku idk it evokes complicated feelings??normally hate reading unfinished fics BUT THIS!!gave me a life changing experience within 7000words dammit

be my good luck charm

summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest traveling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

words: 6785

chapters: 1/1

notes: cute lil oneshot for yall cuz mha fans r in dire need of fluff rn yknow why🤭 how to date a hottie101 by bkg: set ur crush on fire to show ur undying love(WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN)

Barberries and Variegated Knotweeds

summary: The Fight Another Day Agreement is a required legal document for all professional heroes. In the event of a life-threatening injury and the hero and their proxies are unable to respond on their behalf, medical professionals may do whatever it takes to keep the hero alive.

For Izuku, whatever it takes means removing flowers from his lungs, forcing him to forget about the love of his life. The aftermath leaves Izuku bewildered at the sight of a man with spiky blond hair and red eyes the color of Japanese barberries.

words: 19,286

chapters: 4/4

notes: YET ANOTHER HANAHAKI FIC WITH IZUKU WHUMP I just love seeing my favs go through it🤠I've read so many hanahaki fics ud think I'd be used to it but NOPE THIS SHIT HAD ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT was ready to downgrade 1 dimension to solve this shitstorm myself

If It's You

summary: “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

words: 16,863

chapters: 1/1

notes: 10 things I hate about you but make it bkdk I LOVE THIS SHIT angsty dramatic misunderstanding high school aus are my JAM also somewhat gives off from the sidelines vibes so if ur into that defo read

Down the Red Line

summary: His mom is the first person to know about it. She finds out when Izuku asks ( in a very cute three-year-old way) why can’t he see the red line that connected him to Kacchan in the last picture they've taken. The one where they were about to enter Kindergarten on their first day.

"Red line?"

"Yeah, Mamma. This," Little Izuku says, raising his pinky finger to show her the thing tied to it.

Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

words: 7,804

chapters: 1/1

notes: one of my absolute favs since 2021 MAKES ME SO FUKCIN MAD I have to put my phone down and contemplate life for a few mjns while reading it but it's so good??my red string is tied to thjs fic pls

#bakudeku #ao3 #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha bkdk #bkdk #mha #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

Note

I don’t have a great idea or prompt but your As You Wish Older!Eddie absolutely stopped me in my tracks and I think about him daily 😩 idk if you’d prefer a totally different universe to write older!eddie but I got thinking about As You Wish Eddie and just wondering what like a different night with him and reader maybe Pre-AYW where they’re a lil cuddly but shouldn’t be or post-AYW date night where things actually go well and it’s happy for them both and Eddie’s efforts are appreciated (looking at u Brittany 😒)

I swear, I didn't intend for this to be so long. Yet here we are. This is Pre-As You Wish. Thank you so much for this request! I love writing this little gang so much.

Words: 11.8k

“But I want one,” Luke says with an overdramatic sigh. He flops back on the couch, arm dropping above his head, reminding you of a swooning Southern Belle.

“You’re being silly,” you tell him, reaching down to ruffle his brown curls. “It’s not that I just said no, you can’t have one. There are literally no cupcakes in the whole house, kiddo.”

The five-year-old acts as if your words have wounded him, curling up himself and holding his chest with both hands as if he’s been stabbed. Where did he get this stuff?

“Will die without frosting!” Luke says weakly. You can’t help but laugh at his adorable antics as you kneel down near his head. There’s no doubt that he’s the most entertaining part of your job.

“Oh no,” you say, copying his dramatics. “We’re going to lose Luke!”

Without opening his eyes, Luke gives his head a nod, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. The front door opens and your heart soars, though there’s a brief flash of panic that it’s not the parent of the children that you want to see. When the sound of heavy boots being kicked off reaches your ears, you relax, but stay in character for your game with Luke.

“Eddie, come quickly!” Your tone is teasing, and you throw him a smile over your shoulder to let him know that you’re only fooling around. Eddie’s smirk says he’s game to play along.

“What’s wrong with my boy?” Eddie says, faking a gasp and coming to kneel next to you at Luke’s side.

“He says he’s dying from lack of cupcakes,” you say, placing your hand on your heart.

“Frosting,” Luke grits out, making both you and Eddie hide snorts of laughter.

“Right. From lack of frosting,” you amend.

“It’s such a shame,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “If only he could hold on for two more days until his brother’s birthday.”

Luke pops open a bright blue eye, peeking at his father. “Oh yeah.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie mimics his son’s voice, wrinkling up his nose.

“What kind of cake?” Luke asks, abandoning his theatrical game and sitting up on the couch.

“I’ll tell you if you give me a hug,” Eddie offers, and Luke launches himself at his dad. Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to his temple. “Vanilla cake. Vanilla icing.”

“Strawberry’s better,” Luke says.

“Then we’ll have that on your birthday,” Eddie says, mussing up the little boy’s hair before standing. “Where’s Ryan?”

“Taking a bath,” you say, standing up after him. “We finished his homework, and he said if he takes a bath now, he can read before bed instead.”

Eddie grins and shakes his head as he unzips the navy coveralls he’s wearing. Your eyes can’t help but trail his hands, rough and calloused from manual labor, pulling down the zipper so he can shrug his top half out of the garment.

Luke gets bored now that none of the attention is on him, so he scurries to his room to find something to keep him occupied.

“That kid,” Eddie says, his tone full of adoration for his oldest son. “I have no idea where he gets it. The brains, the books. Certainly not my genes.”

“Hey, you’re smart,” you argue with a pout. Eddie lets out a chuckle and walks to the kitchen, you hot on his heels. “I’m serious!”

“Sweetheart, I barely got out of high school. Can’t tell you the last time I read a book.”

“There are different types of intelligence, Eddie. I mean, last week! All I said to you was that my car was making a growling noise and within two minutes you knew what was wrong with it. Without even having to go outside and look at it. Jesus, I don’t even know the names for half the crap under the hood. And I guess I’ll just have to lend you a book, huh?”

Eddie smiles at you. A real, open face, full of teeth smile. You take a seat at the kitchen table, unsure if your wobbling knees would be able to hold you up after seeing that grin aimed at you.

“You’re the best,” he says. A warmth tingles all over your body at his praise. “You wanna stay for dinner?”

The answer to that question depends on what time it is. When your eyes scan over to the clock hanging on the wall and see Brittany is due home in five minutes, that makes the decision for you.

“Can’t,” you say, eyes sliding back to Eddie where he’s digging through the freezer. Probably in search of something to make. But you notice that he had been watching you, seeing you look over at the clock before answering.

“Probably have a paper you need to finish,” Eddie says, giving you an out as he resumes his search.

“Uh, yeah,” you say. But you still have those precious five minutes to be alone with Eddie and you don’t want to waste them. Your mind scrambles for something to talk to him about. “Should I bring Ryan’s present over tomorrow? Or do you want me to wait until Monday?”

Eddie’s brow pinches in a frown and he closes the freezer. “Why don’t you just bring it to the party?”

“His birthday party? Oh, I didn’t realize I was invited.”

Eddie stares at you incredulously. His jaw drops open and he lets out a laugh. “Of course you are. Britt never told you that?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his hair. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks again. “I know she told me she invited you. Because I said I’d do it, then she said she’d handle it.”

“Maybe she forgot?” You try to give her the benefit of the doubt, but Eddie knows better. He doesn’t want to get into it with you, though. Lord knows you don’t need to hear about his marriage issues.

“Well, you are invited. And don’t worry, it’s not going to just be a bunch of little kids. We’re having a barbecue out back, around the pool. Some old friends of mine, my uncle, Britt’s sister and her family, and then a handful of Ryan’s friends. You can bring someone if you want. Your sister, friend, boyfriend, whatever.” Yeah, he was fishing for information that shouldn’t affect him either way, but here he was. Is he proud of it? No. Is he going to stop? Probably not. He knows he’s too attached to you but he’s convinced it can all be a fantasy in his head and everything will be fine. At least that’s what he tells himself.

“Yeah, I’m free Saturday,” you say. “Um, not sure if I’ll bring anyone. Probably not.” Your best friend, and roommate, knew about your feelings for Eddie, so that would just make you nervous she would accidentally spill the beans and ruin everything. There’s no way you were telling your sister about how you feel because she’d just tell you that you’re being stupid; that you’re a kid with a dumb crush. And maybe that’s true, but you didn’t need to hear it from her.

Pushing yourself up from the table, you grab your bag from the counter and slip it on your shoulder.

“See you tomorrow?” you ask.

“I’ll be here,” Eddie says, half of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

You shoot him one last smile over your shoulder before heading down the hallway to say goodbye to the kids.

Fridays are the days you only have one class, which means you get to sleep in a little longer than usual. Except for today, when the phone on your bedside table jars you out of your slumber, the piercing shrill going right through you.

“Who the hell,” you grumble to yourself as you push yourself up onto your elbows. Reaching over, your fingers graze the receiver and tug it to your ear. The anger at being awoken dissipates when you hear the telltale sign of machinery and tools clanging. Even before your favorite voice in the world answers your greeting. “Hello?”

“Hey! Oh shit, did I wake you up?” Eddie asks. You debate lying, but the hoarseness in your voice would call your bluff.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. My alarm was about to go off anyway.” That was a lie, but one he couldn’t catch you in. “What’s up? Boys okay? You okay?”

Both of you notice the lack of checking in on the last member of the family, but neither of you cares either. On his end of the phone, Eddie can’t help but grin to himself, trying to hide it from the other guys in the shop. First, your early morning voice was just about the cutest thing he’s ever heard, now your worry for him and the boys has his heart kicking up its pace.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” Eddie says. “Just wanted to ask a favor of you, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything.” You could slap yourself for how eagerly you said it. For all you know he’s going to ask you to spend the day with Brittany, which might actually kill you. But who are you kidding? You’d do it if he asked.

“Well,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Britt kind of dropped the ball. Again.”

It’s not a shock by any means. Squeezing your lips together, you internalize the sigh you so desperately want to let out and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“She, uh, was supposed to pick up Ryan’s cake from the bakery after work today, but apparently,” Eddie pauses here to huff a humorless chuckle, “she forgot to ever order it. Do you think you can swing by the grocery store and get some vanilla cake mix and vanilla frosting? Ryan didn’t know, thank God, so he won’t be disappointed that it’ll have to be homemade. The kids will want to help with it but by the time I get home there won't be enough time to bake it, let it cool, and frost it before they have to go to bed.”

“Oh, Eddie, of course,” you say. The boys loved baking; you know that from experience. Together you’d made countless cookies and brownies. “Do you need me to grab anything else from the store?”

“No, no, that’s all. And I’ll give you the money for it when I get home, I swear.”

“Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I can buy birthday cake ingredients for one of my two favorite little dudes.”

“Nope, you’re getting that money back,” Eddie says, and you just know there’s a smile on his face as he says it. You can practically hear it.

“I see why Luke is so stubborn,” you say as you lay back on your pillow. Maybe if you close your eyes and tug your soft purple blanket up to your chin, you can pretend you’re being a normal girl having a conversation with the guy she’s head over heels for. Not a conversation about your job with your boss, who has a wife, and is over ten years older than you. Just Eddie.

Eddie scoffs on the other end of the line, bringing a dopey grin to your face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “That kid is nothing like me.”

“Ha!” you bark out, making Eddie laugh, the sound like a shot of whiskey hitting your bloodstream. “Pretty sure Luke isn’t your son, he’s your clone.” Literally, the fact that the five-year-old has blue eyes is the only noticeable difference.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie concedes. “I guess I better get back to work before my boss charges me for half the phone bill.”

“Bosses, right? Such a pain in the ass.”

“Listen, you little smartass,” Eddie says through a laugh, a blushing smile making your own cheeks hurt. “I’ll quit my job right now and take yours.”

“Trade you,” you say, knowing he has to get back to work but not wanting to let him go. “I’ll fix the cars.”

“All right,” Eddie says. “Just tell me where the carburetor is located.” Wrinkling up your nose, you stay silent, only proving Eddie’s point. “Uh huh,” he says, voice sounding smug. “So, I’ll go replace the brakes on this Honda and you’ll go to class, hit the grocery store, and take care of two little monsters for a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m clearly the winner here.”

“You are,” Eddie agrees. “Okay sweetheart, I’ll see you later.”

The term of endearment isn’t new. He’s called you that countless times, along with a variety of other nicknames. He’s probably even said it over the phone to you before, you’re not sure. But the part that’s currently giving you the feeling of pop rocks exploding in your stomach is that anyone who can hear him on the phone at work right now probably thinks he’s talking to his wife. Or girlfriend if they don’t know he’s married. But he said it to you. Something about it makes you feel giddy.

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye,” Eddie drags out the word before the line goes dead.

After starting your day off by talking to Eddie, you don’t feel the need for your usual cup of coffee. You’re already wide awake. The day seems to be better than a usual Friday, an extra pep in your step that you can only think of one explanation for. Class seemed more interesting, traffic didn’t seem as bad, even finding a parking spot at the notoriously crowded grocery store was easier.

Strolling down the baking aisle to find the supplies you need, you hum along to the cheery pop tune playing over the store’s speakers. Your eyes scan over the shelves and snag on a box of vanilla cake mix. Dropping that into your basket, you search for the matching frosting. As you look at all the baking supplies in front of you, the sprinkles catch your eye. Which leads you to looking at the tubes of food gel that you can write on cakes with. Pursing your lips as you look it over, you shrug and think, what the hell? The sprinkles and food gel get added to the shopping basket. Now all you’re missing is the vanilla frosting. Which you discover was right in front of your face the whole time, making you roll your eyes at yourself as you snatch it off the shelf. Purposefully keeping the grocery bag in the backseat, and not in the trunk, your next stop is to pick up the munchkins from school.

The pickup line at the elementary school is long, but you don’t mind. It usually moves pretty quickly, and the radio station is currently playing Billy Joel. Eddie teases you all the time about your love for the singer of Piano Man, but he does at least admit that the man is talented.

Two bright faces come up to the windows of your gold car, Ryan grinning and waving, and Luke hooking his pointer fingers into his mouth and pulling them wide while sticking his tongue at you. Leaning across the center console as much as you can with your seatbelt still on, squishing up your face and sticking your tongue out in turn. Luke giggles and opens the backseat, climbing in and over the bag to sit behind you.

“What’s this?” Luke asks as Ryan climbs in behind him.

“For Ryan’s birthday,” you say, smiling at him over your shoulder. “We’re making a cake when we get home.”

They both cheer as you pull away from the curb and towards the exit off of school property.

Having baked with them before, you knew it could get crazy. Flour usually ends up all over the three of you and the floor. Eggshells seem to get in the batter no matter how much you try to avoid that. But making Ryan’s cake has them amped up to a whole new level.

“Luke, not yet!” You hold the bowl above his head so he can’t pour in the oil that’s not supposed to be added until after the eggs. Mixing a bowl that’s at eye level with you is a difficult task, you find.

“I got the pans!” Ryan holds up the two round pans that will bake the layers of his cake.

“Perfect. Can you spray them?”

“With this?” Ryan asks, holding up the non-stick spray can.

“Yes, sir,” you tell him as you set the bowl down on the counter. “Okay, Luke. Now you can add the oil.”

Once the cake is in the oven, you clean up as best you can while the boys work on their homework at the kitchen table. You’re sweeping the powdery substance off the floor when Luke asks how you spell your name. Going slowly so he can focus and write it down, you tell him.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“Homework,” Luke states simply.

“What’s your homework about?” you ask.

“Gotta draw and write the names of my family.”

The broom stalls in your hands at his words. Quickly, you sweep up the debris and walk to look at Luke’s paper over his shoulder. There you are. All the way to the left of the paper, right next to Eddie. It goes, you, Eddie, Luke, Ryan, and Brittany. At the bottom there’s a brown blob. You’re not sure what it is, but your mind is a little occupied with the idea that Luke considers you part of the family. The pressure of warm tears presses behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them come any further. Not sure if he’d understand your affection through words, you bend down and press a few kisses to the top of his dark brown curls.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the spot at the bottom of his paper.

“My dog,” Luke says with a sigh.

“Is it invisible?” you ask, making a show of looking around the kitchen.

“No,” Luke says with his boyish giggle. His little legs swing underneath the table since they’re too short to touch the ground. “The dog I want.”

“He needs a name too, you know,” you say, tapping at the blank space where the name should go.

“She!” Luke looks up at you, frown pinching his adorable features. “I want a girl dog.”

“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head to the miniature Eddie. “She needs a name, then.”

“Nala!”

“Like The Lion King?” you ask.

“Yes!”

Once you help Luke sound out the name so he can add it to his paper, you take a look and see how Ryan’s homework is coming along.

“Look at you, whizzing through these math problems,” you say, ruffling his honey brown hair. “Little genius over here.”

He gives you a bashful smile and goes back to his work. The boys finish up just as the timer tells you that the cakes are done. Carefully removing them with the ugliest blue and brown checkered oven mitts you’ve ever seen, you place both round pans on top of the stove and turn off the oven.

“Now the icing?” Luke asks.

“Not yet,” you say, slipping off the mitts. “They have to cool first. But do you wanna see what I bought to decorate them?”

Both little boys kneel on the chairs, laying the top half of their bodies on the table so they can watch you unpack the grocery bag. Luke’s eyes widen when he sees the can of frosting and you’re pretty sure there’s some drool forming in the corner of his mouth. The sprinkles make Ryan happy, his face lighting up and grabbing the jar.

“So many colors,” he says as he turns the jar around, tilting the sprinkles so he can watch them slide from side to side. The last thing you unpack is the writing gel and neither kid seems to care.

“What is it?” Luke asks.

“You use it to write on the cake,” you say, flipping the box over and showing them the picture on the back. “We can write ‘Happy Birthday, Ryan!’ on it.”

“We can write anything?” There’s a mischievous glint in Luke’s eye that has you raising an eyebrow on him.

“What is it that you want to write?” you ask.

“Butt,” Luke says, a throaty and immature laugh coming out of him.

“No,” you say. “Maybe you can convince Daddy to let you write than when it’s your birthday cake.”

“That’s so far away!” Luke says, flopping back in his chair dramatically.

“Are you coming to my party?” Ryan asks as he slides out of his seat.

“Sure am, buddy.” You pat the top of your head as he walks by you to get a drink from the fridge. “You excited?”

“Eh,” Ryan says with a shrug of his small shoulders.

“Eh? Why eh?” you ask, frowning at him.

“My cousins are gonna be there,” Ryan answers before taking a sip of water. “They’re mean.”

“Just Sasha,” Luke says to his brother. “Nat and Dmitri are nice.”

“I guess,” Ryan says.

“Are these Mom’s sister’s kids?” you ask, taking a seat at the table.

“Yeah,” Ryan says. He walks over and leans against you, so you wrap your arm around him and press a kiss to his forehead.

“But there’s gonna be lots of other people there,” you tell him. “It’s going to be so much fun!”

A small smile comes to Ryan’s face, and he nods his head. You’d personally keep this Sasha away from Ryan if you had to. He deserves to have fun at his birthday party, not worry about what some mean kid might say.

“Okay,” you say, patting Ryan’s arm. “Who wants to play Hungry Hungry Hippos while we wait for the cake to cool?”

Of course they did, so that’s what you spend the next hour doing. The first time, you let them win. But after that, they were beating you just on their own pure speed. It looked like Luke was going to crack the back of the orange hippo.

Standing up once another round has finished, you walk over to the cake to see if it’s still too warm. It’s down to room temperature so you help the boys clean up the game before setting the decorating items on the kitchen table.

There’s a stereo just on the other side of the wall of the kitchen, in the living room. Decorating calls for some music, you decide, so you open your purse and find the mixed tape that your friend made for you. Usually, mixed tapes are just that: a mixture. But this one was made up of only Billy Joel songs; your favorites all on one convenient tape. First making sure that the thin glossy material of the tape is all on the left side, showing it’s been rewound, you click the tape into place and press play. The opening notes play as you make your way back into the kitchen.

What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?

Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?

Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?

Welcome back to the age of jive

Luke starts to dance in the middle of the kitchen, mostly consisting of head bobs and moving his shoulders back and forth, but it’s still cute. Keeping one eye on his theatrics, you bring the cakes over to the kitchen table and set each on a plate. The pop topped from the frosting, the gel tubes out of their box, and sprinkle jar ready to rock and roll, you put two plastic knives on the table for the boys to use.

You're just scooping a large dollop on the top of each cake when the front doorknob jingles and all three of your heads turn in that direction. Eddie steps inside and tosses his keys down. He takes a step towards your direction but halts mid step as he sees the three of you looking at him.

“Hi?”

Luke slides down from his seat and runs to his dad, Eddie scooping him up effortlessly under his armpits and holding the little boy against his chest.

“Daddyyyy!” he roars.

“Luuuuuke,” Eddie answers, deepening his voice to match the one Luke tried to use. Eddie’s head turns towards the stereo and then he looks at you, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips. “You’re subjecting my children to Billy Joel now?”

“They deserve to hear what good music sounds like,” you answer with your own smirk. Truthfully, you love the music that Eddie listens to, it’s just fun to mess with him.

“Daddy, do you wanna help decorate?” Ryan asks, eyes wide with hope. Eddie could never say no to that face.

“Sure thing, buddy,” Eddie says as he sets Luke down. “Just let me get cleaned up and changed.”

As he heads down the hall, Luke climbs back onto his chair and starts to smooth the white icing around on the yellow cake.

“More,” Luke says.

“I don’t think so,” you say, eyeing the cake in front of him. “That’s plenty. Just move it around more.”

He lets out a huff, sounding just like his father.

“This good?” Ryan asks. His cake is completely covered on the top, now just the sides need to be done.

“Good job,” you tell him.

Eddie comes back into the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips and a gray t-shirt, arm tattoos on full display for you to enjoy. There’s nothing inherently sexy about the clothes but seeing them on Eddie is making you feel hot all over. He takes a seat at the table, next to Ryan, and looks over the sprinkles and colored gel.

“You didn’t have to get all this,” Eddie says to you, but you just wave him off.

“I knew he’d like it and I was right.”

“Okay, seriously, how much do I owe you?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing,” you say with a laugh. “Keep your money and ice your son’s birthday cake.”

Eddie smirks and gives you a mocking salute before picking up a knife to help Ryan cover the sides. Once both cakes are sufficiently coated, Eddie stacks them, and you touch up any frosting that got messed up.

The song on the stereo changes to Just the Way You Are and the slow melody has Luke closing his eyes and swaying in his seat, making you chuckle. Ryan picks up the sprinkles and makes them rain down, colored speckles brightening up the plain white dessert.

Don't go trying some new fashion

Don't change the color of your hair, mmm

You always have my unspoken passion

Although I might not seem to care

Little fingers grab your hand and pull. Turning towards Luke, you see him trying to pull you over to the middle of the kitchen.

“What?” you ask as you get up and go where he leads you. Once he gets you where he wants you, he keeps a hold of your hand in his and wraps his other arm around the back of your thighs, since it’s the only part of you he can really reach. He starts to sway back and forth, and it dawns on you that he’s trying to slow dance with you. The adoring grin on your face as you look down at the little boy has your cheeks hurting for the second time today. His big blue eyes return your gaze, his own smile just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Luke quickly tires of the slowness, letting go of you and drifting back to the table to try his own hand at the sprinkles.

“Hey!” you say, jutting your lower lip out at Luke for abandoning you on the dance floor.

Ryan’s pouting next to him, where he’s still trying to get sprinkles to stick to the side of the cake.

“You can’t just leave her there!” Ryan says to his little brother. He looks down at his sticky little hands and then back to you. His mind must deduce that he can’t dance with you like this. Plus, he��s still working. “Daddy, you dance with her.”

Eddie’s eyes widen for a second as he looks at Ryan, but the look is quickly gone, replaced by that damn smile that drives you crazy. The man rises from his seat and takes a few steps over to you and you feel like your heart might actually explode. Is he really going to dance with you? This has to be a dream.

Eddie extends his hand to you, which you don’t hesitate to take. He pulls you to him, causing you to giggle and a flush to move up your cheeks. One strong arm wraps around your waist and you think that this just might be the best moment of your life. His other hand, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, holds your smaller, softer hand. When you drape your other arm over his shoulder, hand so close yet so far from the curls at the base of his neck that you always want to play with, Eddie starts to sway back and forth with you. Feeling his body pressed against yours, arm wrapped around your body, hand holding yours, you begin to feel lightheaded. It’s because your breathing has sped up, you realize, and you have to manually take control of your lungs, telling them to inhale longer and exhale fully.

A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Eddie lets go of your waist and twirls you around by your hand. He’s smiling when you turn back around to face him, his eyes bright and shining.

I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right

The emotion of the lyrics as Eddie pulls your body back against his has you feeling like you’re underwater. Everything is in slow motion and sounds are garbled, but it’s perfect. You’re sure your skin is on fire and you’re not sure how Eddie isn’t scalding his hands on you.

Eddie looks down at you as you dance, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, never looking away. Normally, you’d shrink from anyone looking at you this intently, but it’s Eddie. It feels flattering and warm and intimate in a way that you don’t know how to describe. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. First you danced with Luke, then his dad, at Ryan’s insistence. It’s completely innocent.

As the song comes to a close, Eddie dips you, grip tightening on you as you squeal at the surprise. He chuckles and pulls you back up to your feet. When he takes his hands off you, you feel suddenly cold. Like something is missing. Eddie bends at the waist, bowing to you, so you give him a curtsy in return.

“That’s how you dance with a lady,” Eddie says, giving a playful, barely-there smack on the back of Luke’s head. “Gonna have to teach you to be a gentleman, I see.”

Luke ignores him, finishing up his sprinkle job, but you think there are more sprinkles on Luke than the cake. Ryan hands you a red tube of writing gel, and Eddie a yellow. He has the green one gripped in his small hand.

“Okay, I want you to write ‘Happy,’” Ryan tells his dad before turning to you. “And I want you to write ‘Birthday.’ I’m gonna write my name.”

Following his instructions, Eddie goes first. He takes his time, tongue poking out in concentration as the yellow gel slips out, curling into the letters weaved by Eddie’s hands in the air. When it’s your turn, you realize you have the longest word to write. As you’re halfway through, the song changes to Uptown Girl and a smile ticks onto your face.

“My favorite,” you say as you curl the H in birthday. It comes out looking pretty good if you do say so yourself. Ryan takes his time with his name as well. Glancing over to Eddie, you see he’s staring off into space, zoned out, mind far away.

Uptown girl

You know I can't afford to buy her pearls

But maybe someday when my ship comes in

She'll understand what kind of guy I've been

And then I'll win

The beginnings of a smile twitch at one corner of Eddie’s mouth and you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about so intently.

“Done!” Ryan announces, breaking Eddie from his trance.

“It looks great, buddy,” Eddie says, patting his oldest son on the back. “Let’s put it in the fridge now.”

Ryan nods and Eddie’s careful in carrying the plate. You open the refrigerator door for him, and he slides it on the top shelf.

“There we go,” Eddie says as you close the fridge. He looks over and sees Luke covered in frosting, sprinkles, and somehow the gel, even though he didn’t touch it. “Luke, you need to go take a bath.”

The boy pouts but slides off the chair and walks down the hallway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke!” you call before he can get into the bathroom.

“Okay! Bye!” he calls back.

“Come on, Ry,” Eddie says. “Help me clean up.” Eddie grabs the sponge and groans, shooting you a playful glance. “Can't believe you made a mixtape of just Billy Joel.”

“I didn’t make it,” you say, grabbing the kitchen towel and swatting Eddie with it. “My friend Paul made it for me.”

“Oh?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Ryan takes the can of icing off the table along with the gel tubes, and Eddie runs the sponge over the green tiled table. “Paul, huh? You know, guys usually make mixtapes for girls they like.”

“Mm,” you hum, cheeks warming. “Love songs, I believe. And Paul’s majoring in music so he makes tapes for everyone.”

Eddie’s tempted to tell you that you should have Paul introduce you to new music, but he can’t bring himself to suggest you spend time with another guy. A college guy, especially, your own age and who you probably hang out with. His grip tightens on the sponge, the water and suds squishing between his fingers.

“Making a mess, Dad,” Ryan says with a giggle, poking at a bubble one of the suds produces.

“Go wash up with your brother, okay?” Eddie says. Ryan stops in front of you and holds his arms out for a hug, which you eagerly return.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I can't wait.”

Ryan grins up at you when you release him from your arms. “Me neither! Bye.”

“Bye, sweetie,” you say, giving him a wave as he heads down the hallway. Towel still in your hands, you wipe down the table with it as Eddie puts the sponge back in the sink. The next Billy Joel tune is on and you’re humming it to yourself before you start to sing along.

Who knows how much further we'll go on

Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone

I'll take my chances

I forgot how nice romance is

I haven't been there for the longest time

There’s a smile on your face as you sing the words, the lyrics bringing Eddie to mind. Not that he isn’t always on your mind.

“Sing those lyrics to Paul?” Eddie asks.

With a frown, you turn to face him. “No. Paul and I aren’t anything. Why?”

“You had a lovesick expression on your face,” Eddie says, his voice a little harder than usual. Did you really have your emotions playing across your face like that?

“Oh, Eddie,” you say with an over dramatic sigh. “It’s just because I love Billy Joel so much.”

Eddie flicks a few water droplets at you, and you giggle when they hit your face.

“God, I’m gonna puke,” Eddie says, trying, and failing, to conceal a playful smile.

“What?” you ask, giving him wide innocent eyes. “You don’t like Billy Joel? Huh, well that’s okay, Eddie.” You walk over to your purse and start to rifle through it, Eddie’s eyes tracking your every movement. “Here, maybe this will be better.” New cassette clutched in your hand, you go over to the stereo and stop the Billy Joel tape.

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he waits for you to switch to whatever God awful – he can only assume – music you’re going to put on. The new tape snaps back into the stereo and you’re strolling back in the kitchen to drop the Billy Joel tape back in your bag as the opening notes on this particular tape start.

“No,” Eddie says, eyes narrowing at you when he starts to recognize the song. You pay no mind to him as you zip your purse back up, singing along with the lyrics as they start.

Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone

I hear you call my name

And it feels like home

“You’re honestly subjecting me to Madonna?” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his skull. Ignoring his words this time, you keep singing along and twirl until you’re standing right in front of Eddie. Looking up at him with a mischievous smile, you grab his hands in yours and try to get him to dance along. He refuses, but you just keep standing there in front of him, moving your hips back and forth as you keep singing.

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

Eddie’s breath catches in his chest. The image the lyrics evoke in his mind is not something he should be thinking about – let alone with you right in front of him.

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

The line keeps repeating in his head on a loop accompanied by the image of you on your knees in front of him. Looking up from below him, your beautiful eyes wide and your lips pouted. Fuck. Why did he decide to put sweatpants on? Shit, he needs to get out of the kitchen before you can see his boner.

“Uh, those two have been in the bathroom a dangerously long time,” Eddie says. Mercifully, you stop moving your perfectly sculpted hips when he speaks, giving Eddie a moment to compose himself a bit more. “Better go make sure they’re all washed up before I start dinner.”

“Okay,” you say, taking a few steps back from him to go collect your tape from the stereo. You pop it back in your purse and slide the bag onto your shoulders.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asks, turning his body towards the hall to better hide himself. “Party’s at one.”

“I can come by early and help set up?”

Even when desperately trying to usher you out of the house, he’s anxious to get you to come back as soon as possible. “Sure. Twelve? Little after?”

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, giving him a smile that’s not doing any favors for the hard on in his pants.

He gives you a smile in return, along with a wave before he heads down the hall to the bathroom where the critters are probably making a mess.

As if picking out a bathing suit to wear for any other occasion wasn’t frustrating enough, now you have to pick one that Eddie would see you in. Impossible as it was, you managed to pick one. It’s a one-piece dark green suit with cut outs along the sides, exposing the sides of your ribs. It became the winning suit mostly because of how well it holds your boobs up, though. The girls are on display, but not about to fall out of your suit. A pair of denim shorts and a faded white t-shirt are your choices to throw on top of it. You scoop up Ryan’s gift and head out the door.

When you park your car in front of the Munson residence you can tell the backyard is being set up. Luke’s loud voice sounds from around the house, chattering away to who you can only assume is Eddie. The sound of patio chairs scraping against the pool deck drowns out the little boy’s voice, but you hear Eddie hum in agreement with something he said. Just that little sound from Eddie has an involuntary smile spreading on your face and you head to the side of the house where the gate to the backyard is located.

“Luke, can you move that chair over? The one by the grill.”

Eddie catches sight of you as you come around the corner of the house. His face lights up and it almost causes you to trip over your own sandals. When he goes to open his mouth to say hello, you hold your finger up to your lips, eyes darting towards Luke and back again. Eddie nods, a smirk playing over his lips. Slowly so as not to make a sound, you put Ryan’s gift down on the table closest to you and kick off your shoes. Luke’s back is still turned as you tiptoe closer to him. Striking, you reach out and snatch the small boy in your arms, hugging him to your chest. Squeals escape his tiny frame as he wriggles in your arms, and you press kisses to his cheek.

“Got you!” you call over his laughter.

Eddie’s chuckling as he watches the two of you, untangling a string at the end of a “Happy Birthday” banner.

“You scared me!” Luke says.

“That was the point,” you say as you tickle his sides. He wiggles his way out of your grip and gives you a playful push. You pretend to stumble back, as if his strength was just too much for you. The triumphant look on his face melts your heart and you just want to snatch him up again. But before you can, Eddie’s voice calls for you.

“What’s up?” you ask, strolling over to the man.

“This ladder is kind of wobbly, can you hold it for me while I hang up the sign?” he asks.

“I can do it,” you say, holding your hand out for the banner.

“You sure?” Eddie asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you say. “I trust you holding the ladder more than I do me.”

“If you insist.” He hands over the sign and you climb a few rungs up the ladder. Eddie’s hands hold the ladder on either side of your body, and he feels his cheeks flush when your ass is right at his eye level. Giving himself just a moment to enjoy the view, he decides not to be a perv and look up to where you’re securing the banner above the back door.

“How’s it look?” you ask.

Your ass? Perfect, he thinks to himself.

“Uh, looks good,” Eddie says. You climb down and are boxed in by the older man’s arms as he still holds on to the ladder. His lips quirk to the side as your eyes meet his. “Looks, um, really good.”

Eddie bites his bottom lip, only breaking his trance when the back door opens, and he instinctively wraps his arm around you to tug you out of its way. The door bangs against the ladder and Ryan winces as he steps outside. He’s about to apologize when his eyes take in you standing there. The fear in Eddie screams that Ryan’s eyes went wide because his arm is around you, so he quickly drops it. But really, Ryan is just excited to see you. He runs over and throws his arms around your middle, burying his face in your stomach.

“Hey, you! Happy birthday, Ryan.”

“Thank you!” Ryan pulls back, giving you a grin.

Eddie folds the ladder in and picks it up, your eyes immediately drawn to his muscles flexing in his Iron Maiden tee that he probably cut the sleeves off of himself.

“Luke!” Brittany shouts from inside and it seems like all four of you in the backyard tense at the sound. Her footsteps are quickly approaching the back door and Luke groans, shuffling himself closer to you and Ryan. The door hinges squeak and Ryan’s grip tightens around you.

“There you are,” Brittany says, eyes locking on her youngest son. Her eyes glance briefly over to you, then back to Luke. “Hi.”

It takes a moment before you realize she was talking to you. “Uh, hi, Brittany.”

“Luke, come inside and help me. Eddie, you need to get the towels out of the linen closet.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He ruffles Luke’s hair and prods him along to follow his mom inside.

“Need me to do anything out here?” you ask.

“Uh…” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and looks around the patio. “Not gonna light the grill til people start getting here. Chairs and tables are all set up. Oh!” He snaps his fingers and walks over to pull a box off of one of the deck chairs. “Can you put the birthday tablecloths on the tables?”

“Of course.” Bending down, you press a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head. “I put your present right over there. Wanna take it inside?”

“Yes!”

For the next forty-five minutes you help the Munson’s around the house, setting up decorations, putting the snacks into bowls, and trying to keep Luke from shaking Ryan’s gifts around to try and figure out what’s inside. You're pulling the burgers and hotdogs out of the fridge in preparation for Eddie to grill when the man in question walks into the kitchen, Iron Maiden shirt still on, but his jeans exchanged for a pair of silver swim trunks.

“Where are the boys?” he asks.

“Getting changed into their bathing suits,” you say as you knock the fridge closed with your hip.

The doorbell rings and Eddie heaves a sigh. “And so it begins.” He heads out to answer it and comes back in with an older man whom you recognize from photographs. Still, Eddie introduces the two of you.

“This old geezer is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, playful smirk set on his pretty lips.

“Ah, you must be the young lady the boys are always talking about.”

Wayne offers his hand which you shake with a polite smile on your face. Eddie hopes neither of you notice the pink tinge over his cheekbones because he knows he’s guilty of talking about you more than he probably should.

“I guess that’s me,” you say.

“Grandpa!” Luke runs in and launches himself at the older man. Wayne laughs and catches the young boy, swinging him up into his arms.

“There’s my troublemaker,” Wayne says.

“Fitting nickname,” you say with a giggle and Luke sticks his tongue out at you.

“Tongue to yourself,” Eddie says, tugging on one of Luke’s curls.

Over the next hour you’re introduced to so many people that you sincerely hope no one expects you to remember them all. There’s Brittany’s sister Sandy and her three children (that you can already tell are a handful), Eddie’s friend Dustin that you’ve heard so much about, and you definitely remember Steve Harrington—because he’s so handsome.

“Hi,” you say, offering Steve your hand to shake. His wife Nancy and their four kids have already come in and gone out to the backyard, but Steve was lagging behind since he was getting the presents out of the car.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve says, shooting you a smile. Maybe it’s his old high school insecurities kicking in, but Eddie quickly claps Steve on the back and sends him out by the pool.

But your favorite people you think you’ve today are also old friends of Eddie’s from high school. They came into the house bickering, but somehow it was in an adoring way that let you know it was them showing affection for one another. The man was tall, taller than both Eddie and Steve, and had an infectious smile. His wife had her fiery red hair up in a high ponytail and their baby in her arms.

“This is Lucas, Max, and little baby Tiffany,” Eddie tells you. Tiffany looks up at you with wide dark eyes, a gleeful expression on her chubby little face.

“Oh, she’s precious,” you coo, smiling at the happy little girl. “How old is she?”

“Eight months,” Lucas says, looking adoringly at his daughter.

You end up sitting with the little family outside by the pool, on a deck chair next to Max while she holds the giggling baby in her lap. Ryan is happy, splashing away in the pool with his friends. It warms your heart to see the normally quiet boy laughing so loudly and having the time of his life. Eddie’s at the grill, flipping hamburgers and surrounded by Dustin, Steve, and Lucas. You’ve never seen Eddie with his friends before. He’s relaxed, spatula in his hand, and an easy smile on his face. They’re all laughing at something Dustin said and it brings joy to your face.

“Oh, shit,” Max says from next to you, drawing your attention away from Eddie.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, turning to face her.

“I left her favorite pacifier in the car,” she answers with a sigh.

“Do you want me to go get it?” you offer.

“I’m not sure where it is in there.” Max stands, holding Tiffany on her hip. “Would you mind holding her while I go check?”

“Not at all,” you say, a smile on your face as the little girl beams at you. Max hands her over and her tiny fingers go right up to your mouth, making you giggle.

“I should be back in five minutes. But Lucas is over there if you need him.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” you assure her, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s my job.”

Max gives you a smile before heading back into the house.

“Well, hello, Miss Tiffany,” you say, holding her on your hip. She babbles in the language of babies, and you tilt your head. “I know. I agree.”

Eddie looks up from the grill to say something to Steve, but over his friend’s shoulder he catches sight of you holding Tiffany. It feels like his heart is going to liquify and melt right out of his chest. He’s always wanted a baby girl. But he also did not want to have any more children with Brittany. But seeing you, the girl he has a completely inappropriate crush on, holding a baby girl? Smoke is going to start coming out of his ears, joining that from the grill.

“Uh, Steve, watch the grill for me? Just gotta ask what some people want to eat.” Eddie’s not even really looking at Steve as he shoves the spatula in his hand, moving past his group of friends and walking over to you. As he gets closer, he can hear you talking to Tiffany in that squeaky voice all adults seem to talk to young children in. The baby is giggling and waving her little hands around and it makes Eddie smile.

“Well, seems like you made a new friend,” Eddie says, coming to stand beside you so he can admire the girl as well.

“And she’s just the sweetest little thing,” you say, still in the baby talk voice. Tiffany starts to fuss a little in your arms, but you’re quick to readjust her position and hike her up a little higher on your hip. It seems to have done the trick because she rests her head on your chest and looks up at Eddie with her large dark eyes.

“Hey there, Tiffany,” Eddie says. She blinks at him, dark eyelashes kissing her cheek.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” you ask.

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, eyes glancing at you.

“I want one,” you say, only half joking. As if Eddie couldn’t want you any more than he already did, you had to go and say that. He can’t help it, he leans in and brushes a soft touch over Tiffany’s thin brown hair on the top of her head, Eddie’s head practically resting on your shoulder as he does it. He wants this so bad it hurts. His heart is in a vice grip and every day the handle seems to turn it even tighter.

It’s affecting you as well. You’ve always wanted kids and loved being around them. It’s why you became a babysitter to begin with. But holding this sweet little girl with Eddie standing so close to you? You can’t help it, you close your eyes and let the fantasy take hold that this is your and Eddie’s baby in your arms. The warmth of his body is radiating over to you and the baby lays gently against your breast. The boys are having fun in the pool, and this is your little family.

“Got it.” Max’s voice breaks you out of your illusion. She’s brandishing a green pacifier in the air as if it’s a trophy, the prize she’s been searching for. As soon as Tiffany catches sight of the pacifier, it gains all of her attention. She makes grabby hands for it and Max is quick to pop it into her mouth.

“Thank you so much,” Max says as she takes the baby from your arms.

“Not a problem. She was a little angel,” you tell her.

“She gets that from me.” Max smirks at Eddie, as if she’s expecting his bark of laughter even before he does it.

“Uh huh,” Eddie says. “Check that red hair again, I’m sure you’ll find some horns growing beneath it.”

“I’d flip you off if my child wasn’t in my arms,” Max says.

“Then thank you, Tiffany,” Eddie says, leaning in towards the baby. She reaches out and tugs on one of Eddie’s curls.

“See? She said that’s what you get for talking like that about her mom,” Max says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “What do you want to eat?” He then asks you and pats your shoulder before walking back over to the grill.

The kids aren’t thrilled when they have to come out of the water to eat, because they know they’ll have to wait for a half hour afterwards before they can go back in. But Eddie had been prepared for that level of boredom from these rambunctious rugrats and had a few games set up for them on the back lawn. It wasn’t much, but the kids seemed to enjoy playing with the bean bag toss and the horseshoes.

Once the half hour is up, you’re ambushed by Ryan who insists you come in the pool. Trying to tell him that you don’t want to seems futile since he has the double advantage of having those adorable puppy dog eyes and the fact that it’s his birthday on his side. He cheers when you agree, and the sound draws the attention of his father who had been talking with Wayne. But his gaze has been captured elsewhere when he sees you strip your white shirt over your head, revealing the green swimsuit beneath. When you bend over to take off your denim shorts, Eddie loses all coherent thought in his head. You turn to face Ryan fully, which also has you facing Eddie head on. His eyes take in every inch of you. From the way the bathing suit lifts your already impressive breasts, how the cutouts on the side of the suit tease him with glimpses of your soft, smooth skin, to the way the material hugs your hips just right and your long legs are left bare. They look so inviting and the only thought that goes through Eddie’s mind is that he wants to mark them up. Make that soft skin turn purple and red under his adoring mouth.

You follow Ryan into the pool, taking one step at a time. The deeper you get, the colder it gets, so your muscles tense as you wade into your waist. Eddie chuckles as he sees you gritting your teeth, your shoulders pulled up to your ears, and your arms held just above the water, but not touching.

Luke swims over and throws himself at you, making you squeal as the water from his body and the splash send goosebumps down your skin.

“S’cold,” you say to Luke who only giggles in return. You wrap your arms around his small waist as he clings to you, arms coming up to encircle your neck.

“Throw me?” Luke asks.

“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods his head wildly, wet curls bouncing and shaking water everywhere.

Moving your hands to the sides of his tummy, you bend your knees to coil your energy up before tossing the five-year-old into the deep end of the pool. He makes a splash, showering some of the other kids in the pool–who you were careful to avoid when throwing him. Luke pops back up, laughing as he shakes the water from his head like a dog coming out of the bath.

“Not far enough!” he shouts as he swims back over to you.

“Well, sor-ry,” you say, wrinkling up your nose at him.

“Daddy throws me farther,” Luke says.

“Well, your daddy is stronger than I am.”

“Daaaaaaddy!”

You wince at Luke’s volume, him taking full advantage of not having to use his inside voice.

“Luuuuke,” Eddie replies, strolling over to the edge of the pool, hands on his hips.

“Can you come throw me?” Luke asks, treading water. He has to squint his blue eyes in the sunlight to see his father semi clearly.

“Didn’t I just see you flying in the air?” Eddie asks, gesturing towards the deep end of the pool.

“Apparently, I’m not strong enough to throw him as far as he wants to go,” you say, tilting your head as you look up at Eddie, attempting not to ogle him.

“This kid and his high standards,” Eddie says with a sigh. He reaches down, whips his shirt off, and all attempts not to blatantly stare become futile. The muscles rippling in his lithe frame as he tosses the shirt back onto an empty chair have you biting your lip to keep in an inappropriate noise.

Eddie steps forward, letting himself just drop into the pool with an effortless grace. It causes a large splash that smacks both you and Luke in the face but judging by the smirk on his face when he resurfaces, Eddie did it on purpose. “All right, come here you little hobbit.”

You watch Eddie grab his son and place his hands under Luke’s armpits. The excitement is clear on Luke’s face and it’s contagious, bringing an adoring smile to your lips as you watch the father and son. Eddie double checks to make sure there’s a clear path to throw Luke, then tosses him towards the deep end, the little boy grinning the whole time he’s in the air. Luke was right–his dad throws him farther. Ryan swims over, wanting a turn as well, which leads to most of the kids in the pool wanting to be thrown in the air. Eddie obliges, but you can tell that his muscles are getting tired as the children start to fly less and less farther into the deep end.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie eventually says, his breath labored from all the activity. “That’s enough for now.” He dips under the water to cool down and when he comes back up, you swear he moves in slow motion like some cheesy movie moment; the beads of water dropping down his skin, his hair shaking out around him, curls weighed down from the water. It’s enough to make you go feral.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. There’s a mischievous look on his face and it makes you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Yes?” you ask.

“I think I have enough strength to throw one more person,” he says, sly smirk painting his features.

“No,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head as you try to swim away from him. But he’s too fast. Too fast and too strong as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body back against his. The bare back of your shoulders is pressed up against his naked chest and the goosebumps that dot your skin are certainly from that and not the cool temperature of the air now that you’ve been in the water so long. Eddie spins you around so you’re face to face with him, and the ferocity of the turn has you reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You’re practically nose to nose with him, so you decide to take advantage of the moment and take him in. The darkness of his beautiful eyes. The smattering of freckles that dust the bridge of his hose and up his cheekbones. How plush and pink his lips are, even if they’re slightly chapped. Your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs over his pretty mouth, down his strong chin, then plops back into the pool.

“Ready?” he asks, voice low. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you silently thank God you’re in a pool that will keep anyone from seeing how your thighs clench together. If he kept talking to you like that, you’d do anything he asked of you.

“Yes,” you breathe out, as if it’s the only answer you could give him. His grip around your waist tightens, fingers against your bare skin showing through the suit’s cutouts, and you can feel his muscles flexing under your hands that still rest on his shoulders. There’s a small twitch of Eddie’s lips before he’s throwing you, sending you backwards into the water. Holding your breath as you go under, your skin still tingling where his hands had been on you. Body floating back up to the surface, you let out a huff of air once you break the surface. Laughter bubbles out of you as you wipe your eyes, whipping your hair out of your face.

Ryan’s cake is next, and the expression of pure joy on his face has you feeling the pressure of tears behind your eyes. All of the little dancing flames extinguish with just one breath from the newly crowned seven-year-old. Luke is eager for a slice of the cake, not only because he was dying from lack of frosting earlier in the week, but because he was part of the labor that put this confection together.

As the party winds to an end, you’re thoroughly tired, but it’s only fair that you help clean up since you helped set up. In your mind, anyway. Eddie disagrees, practically trying to take empty plates and dirty forks out of your hands when you try to clear the tables. Most of the guests are gone when Sandy, Brittany’s sister, grabs her keys and rounds up her three kids.

“Oh,” Brittany says, coming into the kitchen where you and Eddie are. She grabs her purse off the counter and slides it onto her shoulder. You’re not sure when she changed from the small string bikini she had on before, but she’s now wearing jeans and a nice blouse. “Sandy and I are heading to the store. I’ll be back.” Then she’s out the door. No further explanation. No asking if he needed her to pick up anything. Just leaving him with the remnants of a child’s birthday party, all the burdens falling on him. Or they would have, had you not been there. You would never leave him on his own like this. Your nails dig into your palms, and you drop your hands behind your back so Eddie can’t see. He doesn’t seem all that surprised, though. His eyes stay on the door for a few moments before he sighs and brings his attention back to wrapping up the leftover burgers.

“You okay?” you ask in a small voice. Anger and empathy battle each other in your head, one for the bitch who walked out the door, one for the beautiful man standing in front of you.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, putting the burgers in the fridge. “Surprised she didn’t dip out earlier, to be honest.”

Unsure of what to say, your hands twitch by your sides for a moment before you’re striding forward and wrapping your arms around his middle, laying your head against his shoulder. Eddie hesitates for half a second before his arms come up to encircle your waist, his head resting on top of yours. Neither of you says anything, just stand there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto one another. In both of your heads there’s a little voice telling you that this hug has gone on for too long for it to be considered appropriate between boss and employee, but neither of you care. You’re only jostled apart as you hear the backdoor open on its squeaky hinges. Reluctantly, you let go of one another and don’t meet each other’s eyes as Wayne comes into the kitchen with Luke, both of them bringing in trash from the backyard. As Luke steps towards the sink with the half-filled cup of fruit punch he’s holding, he trips over his own feet and the red liquid goes flying, landing right on the front of your white shirt. The cold drink makes you gasp as it soaks through the chest and stomach. Luke’s eyes immediately widen, tears welling up in them and you forget all about the bite of the wetness.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you say, crouching down and rubbing up and down his arms. “Aw, don’t cry, sweetie. It was an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, a few tears spilling over the brim. You wipe them away and shake your head.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I promise.” Luke nods and you help him throw away the rest of the garbage he brought in.

“Luke, why don’t you clean up the floor while I get her a shirt to change into?” Eddie asks. Luke nods his head, letting out one more sniffle before he stands on his tiptoes to get the paper towels off of the counter.

Wayne pats your shoulder, and you give him a smile. “You’re real good with them.”

“Thanks,” you say. “They’re the best.”

“I have to agree,” he says with a gruff chuckle before ushering Luke back outside so they can bring in anything that was left out there.

“Here,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. He offers you a white raglan shirt with black sleeves. You hold it up in front of you and see the emblem of a red devil’s head, fire and other accessories surrounding the face.

“What’s Hellfire?” you ask.

“Name of the D&D club in high school.”

“Oh right,” you say. “I remember you telling me about that. It’s where you met Dustin, right?”

“Yeah, he was–.” Eddie trips over his own words as you slip your soiled shirt over your head. Yes, you’re wearing your bathing suit underneath still, so you thought nothing of it. But Eddie wasn’t expecting it and all activity moves from his brain down to his crotch. How is supposed to keep composed when you just whipped your shirt off like it was nothing right in front of him, the support of your bathing suit basically forcing your breasts into his view? He feels himself twitch in his swim shorts and clears his throat before continuing. “Dustin, uh, was a freshman, yeah.” He originally had more to say, but nothing else comes out.

As hot as it was when you took your shirt off, Eddie seeing you in a Hellfire shirt, his Hellfire shirt, it makes his brain short-circuit even further. He’s saved from embarrassing himself by stuttering in front of you by Wayne coming back in, throwing out another handful of trash.

“I’m gonna go see if the boys need help,” you say, shooting both men a smile before heading out to the backyard.

As soon as they hear the door close behind you, Wayne rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His uncle sighs and Eddie turns his head to look at him.

“She’s a real sweetheart, that babysitter of yours,” Wayne says.

“She is,” Eddie agrees.

“Pretty, too.”

There’s the slightest arch of Wayne’s eyebrow and Eddie opens his mouth, no sound coming out. He stumbles under the knowing gaze of the man who knows him better than anyone else in the world. Eddie finally manages to nod his head. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks.

“Yeah, she is.”

Once the house is back in order and the boys are tucked into their beds, both you and Eddie crash on the couch. Brittany still hasn’t come back yet to the surprise of neither of you. But if Eddie was completely honest with himself, he’d rather his wife stay out and have you stay here with him.

“Today was fun,” you say, letting your head drop to the back of the couch.

“It was,” he agrees. “More than I thought it would be. But also, way more exhausting.”

“You should get some sleep,” you murmur, shifting yourself so you can head out. But Eddie has other plans, nodding and resting his head on your shoulder. There’s a spike in your heartrate as his hair tickles the side of your neck. Your stomach is full of butterflies and they’re bumping into one another as they fly around. Eddie stays that way until you hear Brittany’s car in the driveway and jostle him awake.

“Eddie,” you say softly, not wanting to scare him.

“Hmm?”

“Brittany’s home.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he probably wouldn’t have let out the irritated groan like he did, but it’s too late now. Not like you don’t know the two of them are having issues, anyway.

“I’m gonna head out. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“See you on Monday. Oh.” He catches your wrist as you stand up from the couch. “Thank you for helping today. Setting up and cleaning. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you tell him with a smile. “Anything for my favorite boys.”

On Monday, Eddie’s bent under the hood of a car, trying like hell to unscrew a stubborn cap. The voice of his friend startles him and he almost bangs his head on the hood as he jumps.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, wiping grease on the rag hanging over his shoulder. “It acting up again?”

“Yep,” Steve says, sliding his hands in his pocket. Eddie lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“Okay, I’ll try and work it in today.” He makes to go back under the hood, but Steve’s question has him freezing his movements.

“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #AYW #AYWs #request #older!eddie

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windwheeler-aster · 2 years

Text

caught in the act

summary: you and your secret lover, whom you’re sworn to protect, are discovered in the middle of a scandalous position

masterlist

pairings (separate): capitano, arlecchino, and dottore x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), is a soldier for the characters mentioned, and reader is not traveler

word count: 1281 words~ per section (4 mins~ per section)

genre: romance, Royal AU, forbidden romance, suggestive

format: headcanons and blurbs

warnings: unbalanced power dynamics (ruler x soldier), suggestive themes and dialogue, arlecchino threatening some guards, and being caught in the middle of something spicy

a/n: tbh idk where this came from (i do. it is my capitano brain worm and royal AU brain worm’s combined efforts to make my life misrable). i really enjoyed writing some suggestive stuff, but it’s been a long while so i apologize if it’s rusty and stuff. i hope you enjoy it, regardless :)

capitano is more than capable of defending himself, but he still insists on keeping you as his personal bodyguard

it’s not at all because of his blatant favoritism for a soldier who had steadily risen throughout the ranks over the course of their career in the name of his protection. no, not at all

and it’s certainly not because the rooms of the castle feel less cold and lonely with you by his side

or how by entrusting you to be by his side for his every waking moment, capitano ensures that you’re safe. no, not at all

and in the eyes of the public, capitano and his bodyguard barely speak a word to each other. the relationship between the two is strictly professional, nothing more and nothing less

but behind closed doors? an entirely different story

he murmurs sweet nothings into your ears as he embraces you, his chest rumbling from deep within as he chuckles at your whines and gentle protests

capitano is a gentle and sweet lover, who admires you more with each passing day and would do anything for you

and those moments behind closed doors or scheduled hallways are always special to you both, memories that you’ll always treasure

until one of capitano’s servants walks in on you and him in a... compromising position

You held Capitano’s strong, capable gloved hands in yours, caressing his muscular knuckles gently. You peered up into the helm of darkness that hid his eyes from your view. But deep within your heart, you knew they shared the same sparkle of desire as yours. So, you smiled up at him and slowly fell back onto the bed that was behind you two, bringing him with you.

His bed bounced as you two found settled into the mattress, but it continued to jiggle as Capitano discarded his helmet and began to remove some of his clothing. You followed suit, tossing aside some layers as you pushed your lips up to meet his. He grinned into the kiss, taking it as a queue to hurry and disrobe himself fully.

But just as he took off his tight shirt, there was a swift knock at his door. You both froze, inches apart from each other, half naked, and staring at the two grand doors to Capitano’s chambers. Your heart beat continued to beat faster, but more so from fear than from the excitement before. Capitano and you waited for a beat, nearly forgetting to breathe. Then another moment passed, and then another. You both exhaled, thankful that whomever was at the door had left.

Or that’s what you thought before the doors were pushed open, and the head of a measly servant poked into the chambers. They stared down at their clipboard, pushing up their speckles as they did so, scanning the list of items they had before them.

“My lord, pardon the intrusion but I was just—” they looked up and gasped. “Dear heavens! M-my lord, p-please forgive me for—”

“Get out,” Capitano snarled, blocking his body to protect yours from the servant’s sight.

“Yes, right away, lord Capitano!”

And with that, they scurried out of the room, shutting the doors behind them just as quickly. You both heard the servant’s heavy breaths from outside the door, and then their footsteps as they made their way down the hallway.

Capitano glared at the door for another moment before turning to you, his gaze instantly softening. “Are you alright?”

You blinked, your throat tight and your skin feeling like it was set ablaze. Nothing about what just happened was alright. You and Capitano were in the middle of an intimate moment, one between the Lord of the castle and his lover, his bodyguard. You were mortified and anxious beyond means about what was next.

“No,” you told him. “N-no, I’m not alright.”

Capitano bent down and pressed a kiss to your temple. He then wrapped his big, strong arms around you to cradle you against his chest. One of his hands, now ungloved, made its way up and down your back, very slowly.

“It’s going to be alright,” he promised. “I’ll talk with them, alright? No one will find out about this, and we can—”

“B-but… but I don’t want to hide us anymore.”

Capitano paused and looked at you, his brows raised dramatically. “Really?”

You nodded. “It’s painful, love, to see you being flirted with every day in court. Or to hear the nasty rumors about us as we patrol the halls together. Rumors of us being nothing more than just two depraved and shameless individuals who unspeakable things behind closed doors. ” You shuddered. “It makes me feel bad.”

“But they’re true, aren’t they?” he chuckled, placing a quick in the space between where your jawline begins and your ear lobe ends.

You scowled at him. “That’s not the point.”

“Sorry, I couldn't resist teasing you,” Capitano snickered into your skin. “But I understand what you mean, dear. It’s quite… tiring to listen to those rumors and suffer through those attempts at flirtations,” he sighed. But then he turned to you and smiled, softly. “So I am more than content with being truthful about our relationship, love. Our love for each other will never be a secret, starting today.”

You kissed him, happiness effectively consuming you. But once you broke away, you frowned. “It’s a shame that the way our relationship was discovered was… well, like that. I wish it were more romantic.”

Capitano chuckled and kissed you again. “Well, if you ask me, darling, every time we make love is quite romantic.” He looked at you and smirked. “Though, I’m more than willing to… ‘let go’, if you will, and make it more carnally driven. Would you like that, darling?”

arlecchino is more than able to defend herself

in the past, she’s refused any and all offers of a personal bodyguard from her royal court

until you came along, just a new recruit when it came to the life inside the castle, guarding the lady arlecchino

the moment she spotted you, arlecchino knew she couldn’t have you out of her sights. what if something happened to her precious soldier? or worse, someone snatched you up and put a pretty ring on your finger before she could

she just could not stand the possibility of that happening, not one bit

so, she put the idea of you as a personal bodyguard into the court’s heads. and, soon enough, your name and file was presented to her when the court offered more candidates for her protection

a while after your promotion, the lines between professional and unprofessional blurs as you began your secret courtship with the lady

and a secret it is! arlecchino goes above and beyond to ensure your relationship isn’t known

well, that is until one evening where you were escorting arlecchino from a feast. which, directly after leaving, she pinned you into a nearby corner after

which is exactly the position two patrolling guards found you two in, with gaped mouths as they saw arlechino’s lips on your neck, glaring daggers at them

One moment, you were saying goodbye to Arlecchino’s guests on her behalf as you escorted her out of the chamber. Her arm was slung around your shoulder, and the lady of the castle was bold enough to lean into you. Luckily, everyone seemed too cup-shotten to bat an eye at the sight. Still, you waved goodbye and shuffled along with Lady Arlecchino on your shoulder.

And then just as the doors to the main hall are closed, Arlecchino snaps out of her drowsy state. She grabs you by the wrist and leads you around the corner, quickly pinning you to the wall. Your breath hitches as you look into her eyes, the red ‘x’ shape in each boring into you. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, and her breathing deepened as a blush spread over her lovely face.

“Want you,” she slurred out, her eyes tracing the outline of your lips. “I want you so bad, dove.”

“Arlecchino, we’re out in the open,” you hissed, craning your neck to look over Arlecchino’s shoulders.

“That didn’t stop us before,” she chuckled into your skin, now pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. But they were more like pecks than kisses, leaving you with the desire for more.

“Anyone can see us.”

“So?” Arlecchino lips pulled back into a mischievous grin. “Maybe I want them to see.”

You looked into her eyes once more, your cheeks set ablaze. Your whole body felt hot, and you felt a wave of excitement— or maybe arousal— course through you. Finally, you relaxed under Arlecchino’s eyes and let her descend upon your neck.

She nibbled on your neck and you gasped. “Arlecchino!”

She cooed at you in response, kissing over the harsh mark she bit into your neck. “Need to show them all you’re mine, darling. Please, keep quiet.”

“No, Arlecchino—”

She pulled up from your neck and frowned. “What is it, darling? Do you wish to stop?”

“No,” you breathed out. But then you caught something in the corner of your eye and said, “But—”

“Hm, good,” the lady practically purred. “Now, where were we, my love?”

Something clattered to the ground behind you two, which made Arlecchino snap around and put her back to your chest. Both her chest and yours heaved and swelled as you took in the surroundings, preparing for some clumsy attack.

But instead, your eyes find a pair of guards on patrol. Their mouths were agape, and one of them had very clearly dropped their shield to the ground in surprise.

“L-lady Arlecchino,” one stuttered. “What are you—”

“Can’t you see we’re a little bit busy?” Arlecchino nearly snarled, lifting herself up to her full height, easily towering over the two guards. You couldn’t help but nearly moan at the intimidating sight.

The two guards looked at Lady Arlecchino, then at you, and then at themselves. A silent conversation seemed to pass between them both, as they both gave her a stuttered nod.

“Sorry ma’am,” one murmured as they bent down to pick up their shield.

Their partner grabbed them by the elbow and dragged them further down the corridor. “Have a nice evening, Lady Arlecchino.”

You both waited a moment, listening intently to the bickering voices that drifted down the hall. Once they had gone far enough, Arlecchino’s shoulders came back down and she heaved a heavy sigh.

“These are the people I’m hiring?” she asked herself. Then, Arlecchino looked over her shoulder and smiled warmly at you. “Sorry you had to see that, my dear.”

You couldn’t help but smile back at her. “It’s fine, love. Though, aren’t you a bit worried that those guards will go blabber about seeing us make out in the hallway?”

Arlecchino shrugged. “It was going to get out sooner or later, so I don’t think it really matters. But are you worried, darling?” she took your hands into hers. “Because if you are, I can call those idiots back here and—”

“No, that’s not necessary,” you say quickly.

“Ah, alright then,” she smiled. “Now, would you like to continue this or…?”

You answered Arlecchino’s question by initiating a passionate kiss, your hands and hers breaking apart to roam around each other.

“Hm, very good, darling,” she mumbled against your lips. “Now, let’s carry this to my chambers before someone catches us doing more than just making out.”

dottore didn’t hire you for his protection

although he’ll never admit it, the real reason he hired you was because he was lonely

being cooped up in a lab all day with clones drives dottore mad, so it’s only fair that he at least gets someone new to look at

though, you serve as dottore’s lab assistant more than his bodyguard

which is fine to dottore. to be honest, he though you served up your usefulness on the first day

but he was glad to be proven wrong, thankfully

and dottore won’t lie that seeing your face all day brings a comfort to him

but between all the accidental touches and longing stares, something was bound to finally happened between you two

so it shouldn’t be so surprising that you and dottore have abandoned a professional relationship and moved on to romance and passion

what is surprising is the fact that you two had managed to keep a secret for so long

but of course, just when you and dottore had thrown caution out the window and indulged in one another, dottore’s physician decides to finally check in on his lord

which leads to the physician discovering you and dottore in a very scandalous position

but to be honest, dottore only gets mad because your time together was interrupted. he couldn’t really care if the physician saw you two together

dottore is more than relieved that he no longer has to pretend there isn’t something between you two... it would jus tbe nice if his physician picked up his jaw and left already

“My dear assistant,” he murmured from beside you. “Can you look at me for a moment?”

You smiled. “Of course, my love. Though, I would prefer it if you addressed me by—” you stopped, the breath sucked out of you when you noticed just how close Dottore was to you.

You stood before Dottore as he analyzed your face. His eyes darted from one spot to the next, memorizing each detail he couldn’t see before. But his eyes paused on your lips, over and over, and he can’t help but part his own.

He smirked. “Just as I thought.”

“What?” you asked, snapping out of your fluster.

“I had my suspicions for a while,” Dottore began, “but after a brief examination, I’m afraid that it’s true.”

“And what’s that?” you challenged.

“Oh, just that you’re completely enamored by me,” Dottore said, a cocky grin pulling his lips to the side. “And, luckily for you, I have just the cure.”

And before you knew it, Dottore had coaxed you onto his table. He had brushed everything to the side, ignoring the sounds of the stacks of papers falling and glass breaking. Dottore’s lips chased yours as he kissed you over and over, his hands roaming your thighs as he sandwiches his pelvis between them. He was desperate for you, and you couldn’t help but be just as desperate.

Your hands made their way into his blue hair and Dottore hips stuttered, pulling out a soft gasp from you. One glance down and you were greeted with a familiar sight, which earned a chuckle from you. But before you could tease him, he grabbed your hips and slowly guided you towards him. Your breath hitched as your pelvis grazed over his and Dottore laughed at your reaction.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed. “Already so desperate for me, hm? You’re practically drooling, dear.”

Your cheeks burned, but you managed to snap back at him. “You act like you’re not as desperate, Dottore.”

His chest rumbled with a deep chuckle from within. “My, you’re already talking back to me?” He smiled and leaned close to you. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be so bratty?”

But before you could reply with a carefully crafted retort, the familiar creak of the lab’s door interrupted you.

You whipped your head over and saw Dottore’s physician by the door. You froze, while Dottore simply looked over his shoulder, very much annoyed.

His mouth hung open as he took in the sight of you and Dottore. He dropped his pen and clipboard in his shock, and made no move to pick them up. For a minute, you worried that the old man was experiencing a heart attack from the shock.

“I-I heard some glass breaking and came to check on y-you, Lord Dottore,” the physician’s eyes filtered over to you. Instinctively, you leaned away from his sight so you hid behind Dottore, slightly. “Are you alright, my Lord?”

“Well, if you couldn’t see already, we’re perfectly alright,” he replied.

“Are you sure, my—”

Dottore nearly snarled. “Yes, I’m very sure. Now, please, leave.”

With that, the physician picked up his things, shut the door, and scurried down the hall.

Dottore sighed, “Idiots. I work with idiots,” he caught your eye and smiled. “But not you. Now, where were we?”

“But are you not… bothered, at all? The physician just saw us together and… well, you know,” you said, embarrassment coursing through you.

Dottore frowned. “Darling, if you’re worried about my reputation; don’t be. I consider it a great honor to be your lover, and I could care less about what others think,” he looked at you again, and smiled warmly. “Now, would you like to continue what we started?”

You nodded.

“Words, love.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent,” Dottore leaned over and resumed pressing kissed into your neck. “And my dear, don’t worry about being quiet. The whole castle will know about us by the time I’m done with you anyway, so there’s no reason to hide your pleasure.”

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

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