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solalunar-eclipse · 5 months ago

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Sonic Boom - S3E19

Chapter title: Unknown From M.E. (Part One)

Summary: Knuckles has been having some odd dreams lately…what could be causing them? The team bands together to explore a new area and find out.

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[The camera opens up in a first-person perspective. We see two red arms, ending in white mittens with double knuckle-spikes on each hand.]

The echidna pushed aside a tangle of vines, walking through a dense jungle. The scenery looked nothing like the forests of Seaside Island, instead appearing distinctly more tropical in nature.

It seemed quite familiar to the person walking through it, at least, since they climbed over fallen trees and pushed through the undergrowth with ease. Clearly, they were quite confident in their own abilities.

Suddenly, however, a faint chanting could be heard off in the distance.

The servers are the Eight Chaos…

The echidna looked up sharply in the direction of the voice, startled. After a moment’s pause, they began to walk closer to where they’d heard the chant.

“Hello?” they called, their voice pitched high with youth.

Chaos is power, enriched by the heart…

The young person began to run through the forest, chasing the sounds to the foot of a mountain. They looked up at the peak and began to climb, digging their spikes into the solid rock. However, the next time the voices came, they sounded further away.

The controller serves to unify the chaos…

Abruptly, the echidna dropped from their perch, beginning to dig into the ground instead. As they burrowed deeper and deeper, they heard the chant one last time, guiding them into the very center of the mountain.

This is what we have been sworn to guard.

And with that, the echidna emerged into a room—a room that gleamed green from every surface, sparkling and shimmering like it was made of one massive crystal.

They reached out to touch the floor beneath their feet…

…and Knuckles fell out of his hammock in his home, gasping for breath.

[The intro sequence goes off perfectly well! The individual character introductions and team shot all stay the same.]

[This time, the villain intro shows a red glow that illuminates a massive cave painting, one that’s difficult to make out. However, it appears to depict many different creatures holding oddly shaped machinery. Some of them are being struck by a mysterious unidentifiable force, dropping their possessions in the process…]

[The intro then continues on, before ending with the title of this week’s episode.]

Another day, another attack from Dr. Eggman, located in the town square. As always, Sonic and all his friends were there to fight back, frustrating the ever-persistent (or perhaps simply just in-denial) doctor.

“Come on, Sonic! Can’t you just give me one win?” he complained, hovering warily nearby in his Eggmobile.

“I already gave you a win, remember? It was on New Year’s Eve!” Sonic shot back, spindashing several badniks as he spoke.

“That one doesn’t count!”

“Yeah it does!”

“No it doesn’t!”

“Yeah it d—!”

Before Sonic could continue his argument with his nemesis, Knuckles stumbled into his side, having overshot his left hook.

“Wh-whoa!” the hero yelped, struggling to stabilize his taller friend. “Knux, you good?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine!” Knuckles gave him a thumbs-up. “Just didn’t sleep a lot last night, but it’s no problem!”

Sonic frowned, but let it go for the time being, opting to smash more badniks instead of pressing the echidna on the matter. Soon enough, the tide of the battle was turned, and Dr. Eggman was forced to retreat, grumbling all the way back to his evil lair.

“Knuckles?” Amy called, tugging on her hammer from where it had gotten stuck in a bush. “What happened back there? You don’t normally kick my hammer instead of the robots…”

“Knux here says he didn’t sleep last night.” Sonic showed not a single sign of remorse as he revealed this information to known health enthusiast Amy Rose.

“Sonic!” the echidna cried, shooting him a distinctly betrayed look.

Amy immediately dragged her hammer out of the bush and de-summoned it as she rushed over to get a better look at Knuckles. “Oh no, you’ve even got dark circles under your eyes!” she fretted. “Do you want that sleep hygiene checklist I mentioned a while ago?”

He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “I dunno, I mean, I don’t drink coffee before bed or anything like that! I just had some weird dreams lately, that’s all.”

“They’re not nightmares, are they?” Shadow asked softly, giving Knuckles a cautious look.

“Nope! Just weird! It kinda feels like someone’s trying to tell me something…” he mused.

Sticks clambered up on top of Knuckles’s shoulders, squinting at him warily. “Do you need me to make you a tinfoil hat? I can make ‘em good so no aliens talk to you in your sleep!”

“Before we decide if it’s aliens or not, I think we should ask Knuckles what these strange dreams are about.” Tails said decisively. “It may be nothing, or it could be important, but we won’t know unless we have all the information.”

“Would you like to talk about it here, or would you prefer to go back to one of our houses first?” Amy asked kindly, taking one of Knuckles’s hands in her own and giving him a reassuring smile.

Knuckles beamed back gratefully. “The second one sounds great.”

Once they’d all settled down in Tails’s living room (“Just in case it does turn out to be something that requires further investigation!”) and Amy had helped make everyone drinks (“We may be close, but that just means I get to be a good host even in your homes!”, she’d quipped), she sat down on the sofa next to Knuckles, leaving a small amount of space in between them and looking up at him hopefully.

“So…in the dream, I’m somewhere else. I can’t see it super clearly, but it’s someplace that isn’t Seaside Island.” Knuckles began. “I’m smaller, I think, and I hear some people talking, so I go looking for them. It sounds like the noise is coming from inside a mountain, and I dig inside, but once I get there, all I find is this cave made of green crystals. Then I wake up! I just wish I knew who was talking.” He frowned, genuinely somewhat concerned by the fact that he couldn’t identify this mysterious person.

Tails leapt to his feet excitedly. “So it really could be someone who’s trying to communicate with you! Is it the same dream every time?”

“Yeah, it is!” The echidna couldn’t help but be infected by his friend’s enthusiasm, brightening up as the engineer began to scan him.

“Huh…” Tails hummed, frowning down at his screen. “I’m not seeing much out of the ordinary, but my screen is a little on the fritz.” He tapped the side of his device, concerned.

Shadow teleported over beside him, making the fox squeak as his fur puffed up briefly. “Sorry.” he muttered, already looking over the device. “Can you scan the ambient wavelengths around Knuckles? That might be a better way to tell if someone else is sending him messages.”

“I guess…my software might have some trouble with something that subtle, but if I boost the strength, it could work.” Tails mused, flying over to his friend and adjusting several settings in an effort to improve the data.

The android moved a little closer to Knuckles as well, only to freeze, his eyes wide. “Tails? Actually, I have a feeling that technology, incredible as it may be, is not what is required here.”

“Why not?” Tails shot him a distinctly skeptical look.

“Because,” Shadow began, “he is currently surrounded by an incredible amount of raw Chaos energy.”

Suddenly, everyone began shouting at once, making Shadow wince at the shocking increase in sound. Thankfully, they all noticed the effect almost immediately, backing off and watching him and Knuckles expectantly, but with a distinct aura of concern.

“It isn’t necessarily dangerous.” the android explained. “Raw Chaos energy simply refers to energy that originates directly from one of the eight Chaos Crystals, without having been absorbed or filtered through a Chaos user’s body.”

The tension in the room dropped significantly.

“But Knux doesn’t have a Chaos Crystal, does he?” Sonic asked, still looking confused. “All he has is that Fregosi Sapphire thing.”

“Yeah! I think I’d know what jewels I do and don’t have!” Knuckles added.

Shadow inclined his head slightly. “This is true. However, distance is not always an issue when it comes to Chaos. From what I have heard, these crystals existed long before the time of even the Ancients, with some legends claiming that they are fragments of whatever force first brought Chaos energy into the world. Legends aside, there was enough scientific research done on them in my time to suggest that the Chaos Crystals do have a limited form of sentience. Essentially, they have their own wishes and desires, and they are capable of limited communication, if they find someone they deem worthy of their attention.”

“Um, that’s definitely not creepy or anything,” Amy said. “Seeing as we’ve spent time around them once or twice already.”

Shadow exhaled in a way that almost sounded like laughter. “Don’t worry. The crystals have always been supportive of people who intend to help others. They want the world and those within it to remain thriving as much as you all do.”

“So how do I find out which one’s trying to talk to me?” Knuckles asked.

“If you will allow me, I can do my best to help.” The android folded his arms. “I can assist you in tuning your personal energy to the same frequency as whichever Chaos Crystal is causing this, so that we can work together to find its source.”

“Why wouldn’t I let you?” Knuckles looked over at him, bewildered. “Go ahead!”

Shadow blinked, momentarily silent with astonishment. “You do realize that you are, essentially, allowing me access to your life force, yes?”

Knuckles shrugged. “I mean, I already trust you not to beat me up every day. I do that with all my friends! I don’t think this is any different.”

A small smile made its way, unbidden, onto Shadow’s face. “Very well then. Let’s give this a try.” He moved to stand directly behind where Knuckles sat on the couch, placing his hands on the echidna’s broad shoulders. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be!”

“Very well then, close your eyes.”

As the other four looked on, golden energy began to glow and swirl around Shadow’s hands. It twisted and spun in the air, before slowly making its way down Knuckles’s arms to his hands. At the same time, its color gently faded from gold to green.

Abruptly, the energy shot towards the echidna’s heart, glowing so brightly it was almost difficult to look at—

—and then it vanished, and both of their eyes snapped open as the two suddenly gasped for breath.

“Are you both alright?!” Tails exclaimed.

“I believe so. That was…” Shadow wheezed, “…not a source of Chaos energy I have ever sensed before.”

Knuckles beamed. “I am in contact with it now, though, and I think I can find it! Thanks, Shadow!”

The android struggled to meet Knuckles’s eyes. “Well…of course. Anytime.”

“A new source?! Do you think you could direct me to it if we were flying in my plane?” Tails asked excitedly.

“I think I could!” Knuckles stood up from the sofa, a determined look in his eyes. “Let’s go find the thing that’s giving me weird dreams so I can sleep normally again!”

Shadow laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Only you all would have to hunt down a mysterious energy source because its mystical dreams were disturbing your sleep.”

“Well, it’s not going to hunt itself!” Sonic declared. “Alright, guys, let’s do it to it!”

Everyone stared at him blankly.

“Uh, I was just—I was trying a new thing.” Sonic stammered, explaining quickly. “Audiences said they wanted us to be a little more genuine, so I thought I’d give it a go, and—you know what, let’s just go find this weird energy thing!”

[Cut to Tails’s plane, carrying all six heroes as it flies over the ocean.]

“It should be coming up on our left now!” Knuckles shouted, trying to make himself heard by the entire team over the roar of the propeller. Tails quickly banked to the left, soaring downwards and coming in for a smooth landing on the beach of the island that Knuckles had indicated.

Once the echidna had hopped off the biplane, however, he froze.

It took a moment for his friends to notice that he was standing stock-still, staring into the jungle beyond the yellow sand of the beach. Amy walked up to him, giving him a concerned look. “Knuckles? Is everything alright?” she asked gently. Knuckles blinked rapidly, before looking down at her with a stunned expression.

“This…this is the island where I grew up.”

“WHAT?!” everyone collectively shrieked, staring at him incredulously.

Knuckles grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “First my gliding, then this…I guess I forgot to tell you guys a lot, huh?”

“I knew you grew up in the wild like me, but on another island? How’d you even leave?” Sticks asked.

The echidna shrugged. “I didn’t originally mean to—I just went out on a raft one day trying to catch fish, but a storm blew in suddenly while I was out on the water. When I woke up, I was on Seaside Island, with no idea how to get back. And as much as I wanted to, once I met you guys, well…that started to seem less important.”

“Aw, Knuckles, that’s so sweet!” Amy latched onto his arm, her eyes wide and sparkling.

Tails flew over to him, hovering around excitedly. “Does this mean we’re gonna get to see the village where you grew up?”

Knuckles sighed, his mood suddenly much lower. “As far as I know, there’s nobody else on the whole island. If I had a family, I don’t know who they are—I hatched alone and learned to survive that way, too.”

Shadow walked up to him, giving him a sympathetic look. “I am glad you survived. It’s incredible that you were able to do so, and the world would have been at a loss had you not.”

The echidna had a small smile on his face at that. “Thanks…” he muttered, half to himself.

“And hey, that doesn’t mean you can’t show us around the place where you grew up! I want all the secret Knuckles lore!” Sonic added, shooting his friend an encouraging smile.

Thankfully, Knuckles perked up quickly and began to lead the way forward into the trees. “Let’s go check it out!”

After some navigating through the jungle, the six emerged into a clearing surrounding a massive mountain that soared up through the clouds, around which were clustered a variety of buildings. All of them were at least two stories tall, bolted into the side of the rock and made largely of intricately carved wood. Outside each one, a knotted rope hung from a hook, with different patterns of knots for each individual house.

“I used to live in this one here.” Knuckles explained, gesturing to the largest building there was. The building was marked above its door with a classic diamond-cut jewel symbol in green pigment. It was twice as wide as most of the other houses and rose eight stories into the air.

Tails whipped out his Miles Electric and began to scan it immediately. “This is a marvel of architecture! I’ve never seen wooden structures of this height before on Seaside Island, either Ancient or modern!”

Sticks frowned. “Hey, Knuckles, do you still feel that weird energy?”

The echidna jolted back to attention, having briefly been lost in his memories of the island. “Oh, right! Yeah, I do—I think it’s inside the mountain, just like in my dream! I can’t actually dig into it, though, it’s made of solid rock.”

“Well, maybe there’s an entrance somewhere?” Amy mused, eyeing the rock in front of her thoughtfully. “There’s a gem painted on the front of that building, so surely they must have known about the existence of powerful crystals, if nothing else.”

“Hey, lil’ bro, I know you’re all hyped about this village, but you think you could spare your scanner for a sec to find us a way inside this mountain?” Sonic asked, tugging playfully on Tails’s shoe—the only part of his brother he could reach, since Tails had started flying in excitement some time ago.

“Sonic!” the fox whined, shaking himself free and landing a safe distance away. “Of course I can!”

He held the Miles Electric up, scanning the general area. “Ugh, there’s so much ambient energy here, it’s making my screen glitch out really badly!” Tails called, frowning at it—

—and then nearly dropped his screen when the glitching stopped entirely.

“Um.” he added nervously. “…thank you? To whoever…or whatever…fixed that?”

The entire team shared wary glances.

“Sooo, if I can still trust this to be even remotely accurate, it says there’s an opening on the roof of that tall building that Knuckles used to live in.” Tails said.

“Nice one, pal!” Sonic zipped over and ruffled Tails’s hair, making the fox yelp and bat at him in an attempt to get his brother to release him once again.

Quickly, the entire team scaled the house, using their various skills. Amy hammer-jumped to get herself to the second level and clambered up from there, while Sonic just sped directly up the mountain alongside it. Sticks climbed the structure with ease, Knuckles punched his spikes into the rock of the mountain, and Tails, of course, simply flew all the way up (stopping to rest once). Meanwhile, Shadow actually ascended through the inside of the house before teleporting through the roof.

[Please envision a cross-section of the house with all of this happening at once for the desired effect.]

Once they were at the top, Shadow scrutinized the mountain’s face skeptically. “That…doesn’t look an awful lot like a door, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe Knuckles has to be the one to open it?” Amy suggested.

The echidna placed the palm of his hand hesitantly against the rock…and nothing happened.

“I’m sorry, guys, I really thought it was up here!” Tails’s ears drooped unhappily at the thought that he’d led them wrong.

“No, I can feel it stronger through here—I’ll try again!” Knuckles insisted. He pushed both his palms fiercely against the side of the mountain, willing it to move as powerfully as he could.

And with that, a circular outline flared green around where he stood, before receding outwards into the mountain…leaving an empty, pitch-black tunnel beyond.

“Well, that certainly isn’t a safety hazard.” Shadow muttered.

Sonic smirked. “Just ‘cause you don’t have special light-up gear doesn’t mean you’ve gotta be nervous, Shads—we’ll keep you safe!” As he spoke, his bandages and bandana lit up, and the other three with glowing gear did the same. (Meanwhile, Sticks pulled out some of their bioluminescent paste and smeared that onto their face, arms, hands, and legs.)

Shadow stared at Sonic unblinkingly for a long, uncomfortable moment. Silently, he held up one hand, palm up, and let golden Chaos energy blaze to life around it.

“Hmph. Show-off.” the blue hedgehog muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Let’s just get in there, alright?” Amy sighed, pushing past them both and into the cave. “We’re here to help Knuckles, not inflate either of your egos any more.”

The rest of the team filed into the cave behind her, walking one by one down the path. Between the six of them, there was more than enough light to see by. It illuminated all the walls of the cavern…as well as the split in the path up ahead.

“So which way do we go from here?” Sticks asked, frowning at the two different tunnels.

Knuckles closed his eyes for a moment, doing his best to focus. “I think we go…left.”

“I trust you, pal.” Sonic patted his forearm briefly, turning to go the way he’d suggested.

“Can you really feel the source of all that energy?” Tails flew up to hover alongside Knuckles as they continued down the path. “What’s it feel like?”

“It feels sorta…comfortable? But also lonely, I think.” the echidna explained, before stopping as they reached another junction, this time with three pathways. “Uh…center this time.”

The caverns continued in a similar manner, branching and diverging in various ways, with Knuckles leading them through all of it. At one point, once they’d been walking for quite some time, Amy spoke up hesitantly.

“We’re sure this energy thing isn’t just leading us in circles, right?” she asked, smiling nervously.

“I don’t think it would do something like that.” Knuckles spoke with surprising confidence despite his low volume. “Something like this…I think the people who made these tunnels knew it needed to be kept safe. If it really is as powerful as it seems—y’know, with all the causing dreams and fixing Tails’s scanner—then it’d probably be pretty bad if someone like Eggman got his hands on it.”

There wasn’t time for more than a second or two of silence before a green light began to shine from the end of the tunnel, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. Amy shook her head wryly. “I’ll admit it. I was wrong to doubt you, Knuckles.”

The team rushed forward, eager for some freedom from the dark, cramped tunnels. Quickly, Knuckles entered the chamber beyond—only to stop short, causing everyone behind him to slam into his back and then sprawl all over the floor. As they began to get up, in various states of grumbling and collecting themselves, they all froze and stared in awe alongside him at the place they’d found.

A massive cavern soared over their heads, formed entirely out of green crystal. Huge gem stalactites speared out from the ceiling, while the floor was polished and smooth. Various ledges were present at different heights along the walls, which formed a near-perfect circle around the jewel-like floor. And within every single facet, an otherworldly green glow shone, casting all of the heroes in its own color.

“Whoa, Knux…what is this place?” Sonic breathed.

But it wasn’t Knuckles who replied.

“Chaos,” Shadow swore. “It’s the Master Crystal!”

#sonic boom #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #sticks the badger #sonic boom: ancient secrets #sol's fanfiction #the second part will be posted tomorrow!! we're so close to finishing this story entirely :O #i edited this chapter to 'red hot skull...for red mountain' if that interests anyone #it's so exciting to almost be finished--i have so many new ideas that are just dying to be written

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julymusings · 5 days ago

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Jason Todd x Single Mom!Reader

I've been plagued for many months now by the idea of jason todd x young single mom!reader. I literally made this blog this morning just to post this

this is so LONG try as i might to shorten it i've been itching to get all this out of me so enjoy this word vomit i might just make a full fic if i'm feeling extra frisky

You got pregnant in college, and now you’re fresh out of grad school moving to a new city with your 3 year old daughter

You got a job at Wayne Enterprises, leading an important new project. You and your colleagues are invited to the latest Wayne Gala, hosted at the billionaire’s own manor. All these years as a young mother and a student, you hadn’t any experience with such extravagance-- how could you say no?

the party lowkey sucks because it's all old rich people so you sneak out to a balcony where you find a young man drinking whiskey and texting on his phone.

he introduces himself as jason, and his hand is rough and calloused when you shake it, but it's warm and sends a tingle up your arm. (😏)

You chat about your work, he complains about the stuffiness of a life at Wayne Enterprises and you laugh when he warns you to get out while you can (he's joking, of course. not because he thinks it's worth staying but because if you leave he'd never be able to hear that adorable laugh again)

when you go off on a tangent about how excited you are for your project, he's not even listening anymore. the sheer passion that lights up your face has his mind going fuzzy and a full orchestra playing in the background

you're pulled back in before he can get your number :( he's so mopey all weekend he doesn't even have it in him to retaliate when damian makes fun of him for having pink pony club as his top song for this month :(

when you get home your email is flooded with warnings from other parents at your daughter's daycare about a lice scare?? okay, you think, she's definitely not going on monday, you can just bring her to work with you, right? what's the worst that could happen?

the following monday he just happens to show up at the office (He can't just stop by to say hi to his brother who he loves?) (tim calls security almost immediately)

you're not at your cubicle (in a meeting, your desk neighbor informs him) so he mills about the floor like a lost puppy just waiting for you to show up so he can "accidentally" run into you

the woman at the front desk has a chair pulled up next to hers where this little girl with pigtails is sitting, trying to console her as tears stream down her face

jason springs into action, kneeling in front of her chair to ask what's wrong

she just sniffles and holds up her stuffed animal, an elephant whose button eye has popped out, the woman watching her trying to get her to hand it over so she can sew it back on but she wont let go

he goes full grey's anatomy, fussing over the toy like it's in mortal peril and complimenting her for being so brave before gently asking if he can try to fix it

she lets him take it and he uses the woman's travel sewing kit to stitch it back on

she's ecstatic, leaping forward into his arms to give him a big hug

but now she won't let him leave because no he has to have a conversation with the elephant first and introduce himself and give it post-surgery care instructions and listen to it talk about how much she it wants a puppy and he feels like such an idiot talking to that thing but anything to make this little girl smile

she pulls a little picture book from the backpack hung on the back of her chair and asks him to read with her and he can't just say no!

so he plops down on the tile floor and starts reading out loud and even though she's standing next to him craning her neck to see the pictures he's a head taller than her

when you finish your meeting and head back to the front desk to thank gretchen for watching your kid the sight you see makes your heart absolutely melt

jason and your daughter are sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor of Wayne Enterprises as he reads to her, and he's pulling out all the stops, he's doing voices, sound effects, and she's giggling so hard she can't sit up straight

but then they both finally notice you

"mommy!" she yells, running to you and wrapping herself around your leg

you're surprised to see him, but definitely not disappointed, and if what you just walked in on indicated anything, it was that you wanted, nay, needed this man

so now you're flushed and hopeful, mind running with possibilities of why he's here; could it be? he couldn't stop thinking about you either? he came all the way to ask you out?

but jason is also surprised, astounded even, by the miniature carbon copy clinging to your leg saying something about scooby snacks

he's freaking out on the inside

through a tight-lipped greeting he excuses himself with what he hopes is a neutral demeanor (spoiler alert: it's not) and goes home to think

and you obviously know exactly what that was about, one doesn't go through pregnancy at 19 without becoming well-acquainted with the whole catalogue of surprised/judgy reactions

of course you're a mess because the early/mid 20s dating scene is hard enough as it is but with a toddler? forget it, might as well just give up now

you go home to call your best friend and get drunk over face time while she assures you that men aint shit and offers to put a curse on him (you consider it, but how are you supposed to get a lock of his hair?)

he's up all night hating himself for being such an asshole and trying to come up with a scenario in which this works, in which he can have you in his life and also a child and be the red hood because he can't stop thinking about you

so then he just says fuck it and the next morning he shows up at your office with flowers and a puppy stuffed animal and finally asks you out

#JT🫶#nightwing #batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #damian wayne #dc robin #robin #bruce wayne

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f1version · 1 year ago

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26 BIRTHDAY KISSES ★ CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x gf!reader ( she/her )

summary: 26th birthday, 26 pictures of you and Charles kissing. A kiss for each year.

notes: i’m back from my birthday trip!! i wrote this birthday special in like 30 minutes and it’s still charles’ birthday in a couple of places so… i’m not exactly late! enjoy <3

26 KISSES: A GALLERY

By your beautiful girlfriend, in collaboration with a lot of people but mainly Joris and ourselves.

1. DRUNK DANCING: A month after we got together, we were at Arthur’s 18th birthday. We got drunk, singing and dancing to the worst playlist in existence (Lorenzo’s) and, somehow, Arthur got to capture this moment I barely even remember.

Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2018

2. AUGUST 2019: Summer break, so sweet so loving. You made me promise that if you jumped off first, I would jump too. It took me fifteen minutes to follow after you. Also your kisses were incredibly salty.

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2019

3. THE MONZA INCIDENT: I had red lipstick the night you won in Monza, you told me it looked pretty, I asked you to kiss me, you did. Fast forward 8 minutes it was all smudged over your lips, you were 10 minutes late to the post-race conference, and Sylvia almost banned me that night. (I’m still kind of banned from your driver’s room)

Taken by Charles Leclerc, 2019

4. UNDER THE COVERS: 2020, what a crazy year. This one was taken the day we decided to finish moving in together. You were so excited, wanted everything to be perfect. Today I can say it is.

Taken by Me, 2020

5. WORDS: We were spending Christmas by ourselves, we face-timed our families, had dinner and watched movies. You gifted me three beautiful words I, of course, said back… and we also got a puppy!

Taken by Charles’ phone timer, 2020

6. OCEAN BREZEE: Just a small escapade to take a breath. You were so cuddly that day, Joris was so done with you (he still took the pic though)

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2021

7. CUTE OR HOT: I just wanted a cute morning selfie but, because of you, we ended up in a…promising mood. It was intense that’s all I have to say!

Taken by Me, 2021

8. KISS KISS KISS: 24th birthday, 24 kisses. This kind of became a tradition, let me know if you still want them this year!

Taken by Me, 2021

9. DRUNK AF: How did we got so drunk? Ask Pierre, he was the one hosting. Either way we got another amazing photo of us drunk-kissing!!!

Taken by Pierre Gasly, 2021

10. UNDER THE SEA: I’m just going to say that you and your ‘photo ideas 📸’ folder are attached by the hip. I personally love this one (even if it took half an hour to take)

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2021

11. NEW YORK: Thought you could scape this one? Never! Arthur and I didn’t spend a week listening to your complaining for nothing, babe. You must admit that this kiss was magical, everything was so pretty that day. And then it started snowing!

Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2021

12. EXPOSED: Remember how our amazing soft launch got ruined by our trip to Ibiza? Well, here it is, the image we couldn’t stop laughing at when it came out, we really thought we were sneaky.

Taken by unknown, 2022

13. HARD LAUNCH: A week later we were kissing on live TV. It’s one of my favorite memories, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Taken by F1 TV, 2022

14. BACK KISSES: Just a picture of the morning after I learned that you can convince anyone, even the CEO of Ferrari, to allow you to leave sponsor events early. I really don’t know if you knew those kisses were there, but I woke up to this, took a picture and then left you with them until we took a shower.

Taken by Me, 2022

15. SPONSORED BY AIRMAX: That time your team forgot to book us a flight and you had to ask Lando to ask Daniel to ask Max if we could go back to Monaco with them. I’ve never seen Max talk so much, Daniel laugh so loud or Lando taking so many pictures. He even asked to take one of us, here it is:

Taken by Lando Norris, 2022

16. SIXTEEN: I bet you thought this one would have something to do with racing. Number 16. Sorry to disappoint but it’s our beautiful puppy…Sixteen! I’m not gonna lie, I still hate you for persuading me into that name. Anyways if you kiss the dog you kiss the mom!!

Taken by Me, 2022

17. 25 KISSES: Again, tell me if you want those 26 kisses this year. Look at us last year!

Taken by Me, 2022

18. NEW YEAR, SAME LOVE: Sometimes the world feels unreal when I’m with you, this was one of those days. I felt in another reality, the world slowed down, it was just you and me. I remember thinking “I fell in love with the right person” and then you kissed me.

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2022

19. BLACK SUIT: Remember when your fans thanked me for your “new” outfits? They repeated it was the girlfriend effect, you couldn’t stop talking about how stylish you are with or without me!

Taken by Me, 2023

20. PHOTOSHOOT: You got Joris to take these shots just because you wanted a new wallpaper. I thought it was silly, until one day all of them were hanging around our home. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Charlie.

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2023

21. FIVE STAR CHEFS: Not much to say, just sorry for being so distracting and thank you for the amazing (stolen from Ferrari) dinner babe!

Taken by Charles’ phone timer, 2023

22. RED LIGHTS: This year’s addition to our drunk-kissing collection. I remember you drowning shots with Carlos and Pierre, asking me to dance with you, absolutely failing at that, and then kissing me. After that there’s blurry ferrari red, giggles and a hot bath.

Taken by Andrea Ferrari, 2023

23. LAZY IN BED: Wonderful lazy days by the ocean, that’s how we spent the summer break. That morning in particular you didn’t want to get up, basically gluing me to bed. We got up at 1pm.

Taken by Me, 2023

24. JUST ONE QUESTION: Can I drive the purosangue now? Please please please

Taken by Me, 2023

20. LOVER: This day I woke up thinking about those dreams we talk about all the time, you even remembered me a couple of them throughout the day. Charlie, I do want to do this for the rest of our lives, never forget it <3

Taken by Arthur Leclerc, 2023

26. TWENTY-SIX: We are just 26 but I hope our story keeps on writing itself. I love you, these have been the happiest 6 years of my life. Happy birthday bébé ❤️

Taken by Joris Trouche, 2023

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preylamb · 20 days ago

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Posting this at a very interaction unfriendly time, but I finished my design for @catmask and @frogcroaks monster mayhem contest!!! I never get around to actually completing entries for contests im interested in, so I couldn’t be happier!!

All that said, here’s The Sandwaste Harpy! I love her a lot and prooooobably should have linked this tumblr post for my submission cause I’m about to give even more design context and such, but. Oops. 😭 I was very excited and impatient. But yeah! More info below :]

So I almost immediately knew I wanted to draw a weird half-woman siren/harpy sort of design, as that is just my guilty pleasure and comfort zone. And I really needed a comfort zone cause I am so busy with school and my hand is HURTING. Back on track though, from there I wanted to make a creature that lures weary travelers to oasis to drown and eat them

These were some of my main inspirations, some got more attention than others. The sandfish was surprisingly my biggest inspiration though, despite how things turned out. I also took some inspiration from general reptilian and more specifically snake-like features. As well as taking the idea of upper and lower body coloring from sea creatures as a means to better camouflage with the light from above or darkness from below.

I was struggling with inspiration from there though, before I saw an unrelated monster design that leaned into the more monster woman design, with many heads at the front of it’s more monster parts chest. Which inspired me to design chicks and have them latch onto the plume, akin to how mother opossums look with all their babies. It made the design go from appealing to completely endearing to me in moments.

I imagine they are also similar to opossums in many ways involving caring for their young. One thing I note is how when an opossum mothers den is unsafe, she will leave her children and return at night/when it’s quiet and try to retrieve them when it’s safe. I’ve had that happen with an opossum mom who left around 12 of her babies in my garage in a soda can box and they were all so cute and I made sure they were left alone. BACK ON TOPIC THOUGH.

I did mess around with speckling in the design, but couldn’t find a way to convey that in a way I enjoyed, hopefully the sand coloring carries this on its own. She also originally had black hair but I accidentally made her blonde and realized how much i enjoyed that in her palette anyway and how it would better camouflage too.

Camouflage is not my favorite word to spell.

But yeah otherwise this piece also acted as a means to try out a new approach to line art. No pen pressure. I realized most artists who use defined line art I enjoy, do not use pen pressure and I often don’t enjoy the looks of high pen pressure inking in my own works so why. Was I using pen pressure. I don’t know. Anyway I love how this looks and it was so easy on my pained wrists so I will have to do more of this :]!!!

#art #digital art #monster design #artists on tumblr #creature design #monster mayhem

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crguang · 5 months ago

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wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #kafka smut #dom!kafka

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joelscruff · 7 months ago

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one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

#frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x triple frontier boys #PPCUGiftExchange2024 #frankie morales x reader #*

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majestyeverlasting · 2 years ago

Text

Just Another Friday Night

This piece contains 18+ content and explores the idea of Eddie as a soft dom.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's been your best friend since fifth grade. And on a night you think is going to pass just like any other, you realize you can't keep running from the way you feel.

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: I hath returned. So excited to finally have this one out for you guys! Hopefully the person who requested this many moons ago is still somewhere in my orbit.

As soon as Eddie feels the pad of your finger meet the skin of his cheek, his lips curl into a soft smile. It brings small lines to the corners of his eyes and reveals the glint of his teeth in the dim light. Concentration sparkles in your eyes like water does beneath the moon.

Both of you are seated on his messy bed. Him with his legs falling over the edge, and you angled towards him with your legs crossed. His breaths are steady, fingers lax from no longer strumming the strings of his guitar.

When you finally manage to collect the fallen eyelash from his cheek, you hold out your pointer finger for him to see. If you’d been focussed on the song he was playing rather than studying his face, you never would’ve noticed the tiny hair to begin with.

“M’kay.” His eyes flick back up to meet yours. “Now what?”

You raise your finger closer to his lips. “You’ve got a wish to make.”

If there was anyone deserving of one, it was him. It had been almost a year since he crawled out of the Upside Down by the skin of his teeth. Half alive. You remembered all the long nights you’d spent by his hospital bed as he recovered.

An air of weightlessness washes over both of you after Eddie blows it off your finger. As if somewhere far away, the course of time and happenings shifted in his favor.

“You can finish your song now. Sorry.” Smiling shyly, you tuck your hands into your lap and wiggle to get comfortable.

He smiles wider, but makes a quick work of tampering it back down.

When he begins playing, you make sure to focus this time, letting the music soak in and flow through you. The passion is palpable, along with the underlying sense of purpose that hangs off the tail end of each resonant note.

You’d been around to listen to him since the days he played off-tune chords with unsteady hands. As he sat playing now, hair curtained around his face, you knew he could easily captivate thousands if given the chance.

As the song winds to an end, he looks at you and his fingers slow as the notes dissolve between you. The only thing left for you to do is applaud. Your approval makes him feel like there’s electricity buzzing beneath his veins.

He absentmindedly strums a few quiet notes to keep his fingers busy, eyes remaining on you. “You’re the first person to hear it all the way through.”

“Really? I loved it.” Honesty drips like honey from your words.

He looks down to the fingerboard so you don’t see the faint flush of his cheeks. “Thanks. Lotta practice.”

When he stands to hang his guitar back on the wall, you watch the way his shoulder blades shift under his t-shirt. You don’t mean to look as hard as you do. There was something captivating about the way he moved. Some days, he couldn’t sit still, but there were also nights like this one where he seemed to have embodied the very essence of ease.

“So are you gonna add it to your setlist?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making sure Sweetheart is mounted securely.

“Maybe after I’ve cleaned it up a bit,” he says. “The turnouts have been sick lately.” Gratitude glints in his eyes as they meet yours.

Playing in front of a crowd at The Hideout was incomparable to selling out a venue like The Garden. But Eddie swore the gratification felt the same. With each new show, it’d been getting harder to find you in the crowd because of how many people had finally started giving him and the boys a chance. He never thought that locating you amid a sea head-bobbing bodies would be a pleasure he ever had.

“Will I be getting a raise for spreading the word?” You tilt your head and bite back a smile.

He plays along as easily as breathing, biceps flexing as he crosses his arms. “You already eat my snacks, steal my jewelry, and make me drive you around,” he lists. “I don’t know what else there is to offer you, but it sure as hell won’t be Benjamin’s.”

You have the nerve to blink up at him like a fawn. “It’s not my fault you hardly tell me no.”

You make it easy to say yes a million times over. Again and again.

There’s nothing for him to quip back with, so he sighs and studies you for the umpteenth time that night. There’s something amused about the glimmer in his eyes, but a fondness there as well. You’re wearing soft pants and a baggy sweater, looking effortlessly beautiful in a way that only you can manage.

Guilt wastes no time prickling beneath his skin when you curl in on yourself a bit, self-conscious. You’ve never grown used to the way he makes you feel so seen. Part of you fears he can see right through to feelings you’ve been fighting to keep tucked away.

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his eternally disheveled hair.

“Maybe I should get better about that then,” he decides. “Start telling you no more often.” A lighthearted smile pulls at his lips.

You look over at his alarm clock so you don’t drown within the increasing warmth of his umber eyes. You’re not ready to fall even though that’s what it feels like you’ve been doing for so long.

He bites his lip in preparation for the weight of his next words, “I’ve been meaning to tell—“

“My folks are expecting me back by ten.” It’s the first thing you can think to say despite the fact that they hardly ever give you curfews. “I forgot to mention it sooner.”

“Oh.” He glances to his nightstand to scrutinize the red numbers glowing on the clock. Disappointment swells within him and makes him fidget. “How the hell is it almost ten already? Thing’s gotta be broken.”

He pats the top of the device as if the right time was suddenly going to appear. “You can’t say for ten more minutes?” You shake your head apologetically. “How ‘bout five?” Another head shake. “Fuck—a minute thirty?”

A laugh bubbles up your throat, making a helplessly gooey feeling melt down the walls of his chest.

All too soon, with no success in convincing you, he’s walking you out to your car.

The night’s chill nips at both of you without reprieve. You hug your arms and break into a jog to escape it faster, leaving Eddie slowly striding behind you in hopes of prolonging his last few moments with you.

He watches you hop inside your family’s old station wagon and give the engine stuttering life. The headlights are soon to follow, illuminating a cluster of jittery moths.

The feeling of his stare boring into the side of your face through the window makes you give into the urge to crank it down, handle squeaking faintly along with your movements.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He huffs out a chuckle. “Where am I supposed to look? Up?” He tips his head backwards, and his demeanor immediately shifts. “Hey, the stars are out.”

You peer through the windshield to see for yourself. Sure enough, countless of them shine like dull guardians miles and miles above lonesome Hawkins. They seem to span forever in every direction. The child in you looks for any surges of brightness or streaks that would indicate a shooting star.

“The view’s better out here.” There’s a persuasive lilt to his voice.

You don’t dare get out of the car. If you do, you wouldn’t make it home at all. It was getting too easy to be in his presence, like he was the bread and you were the butter that helplessly melted on top because you knew it’s where you belonged.

“I really gotta go, E.” You swallow the sadness that wants to color your words as you buckle your seatbelt and settle back into the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He kicks at a cigarette butt on the ground, and nods. You were always within arms reach, yet lightyears away.

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. “Copy that.”

A silence settles between you. The only sounds that prevail are the hum of your car engine, crickets, and muffled peels of laughter carrying from a few trailers down.

Every time, it was you who pulled away at the eleventh hour before the dawn of something new.

“Good night, Eddie.”

•••

The cash register snaps closed with a resonant clamber. A beat later, you’re reaching out to take your change from the middle-aged lady thoughtfully chewing a piece of pink bubblegum behind the counter. The two of you are the only souls in the store. Humming freezers and a quiet instrumental soundtrack fill the air.

She speaks up as you turn to leave, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

“Just tired.” You sheepishly raise the bag carrying the Melatonin you’d purchased.

Even God knew you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep on your own tonight. You’d lie awake thinking of all the reasons why you should’ve stayed.

You take the time to read her name tag then: Irene.

Her frown is sympathetic. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Warmth rushes to your cheeks. She then leans onto the counter and you feel compelled to take a step closer. “What’s his deal?” She studies your face for any hints before asking a different question,

“What’s your deal?”

You shrug lamely, and Irene tilts her head. You don’t owe her an answer, but you can’t help but feel as though you need to hear it for yourself.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” She blows a bubble and it pops neatly without sticking to her lips. “But it’s up to you to decide if you wanna be scared forever.”

•••

Eddie’s staring up at the ceiling when a faint series of knocks sound at the front door. Instead of moving, he blows out another cloud of smoke and watches as it dissipates into a thin haze in the air. The breeze entering through the cracked window helps filter it out. It isn’t until the knocks get louder that he’s convinced his mind isn’t playing tricks on him.

What he’s not expecting is for you to be standing at the door.

“Hi,” you say softly.

He doesn’t dare question his luck. “H-Hey.” Eddie lowers the joint from between his lips and turns away from you to quickly exhale. “Tonight, uh, doesn’t count.”

He was supposed to be taking a break from smoking, and you’d promised to help keep him on track. But now, as he stood doing just that for the first time in two months, it wasn’t the joint that captured your attention. It was the reason why, the conflicted look in his eyes that the pungent haze failed to mask.

His next words get cut off with a cough, and he doesn’t bother trying to say them again.

You're met by warmth when he motions you inside. Guilt tries to convince you that you don’t deserve another chance, fear says you’re going to blow it.

“Eddie?” He raises his eyebrows. “I’m really sorry.”

The way he nods suggests he knew your curfew was fabricated from the start. “Don’t sweat it,” he lifts his shoulder. “I’m gonna go put this out.” He holds up the joint.

You trail him back to his bedroom, where your eyes roam idly over the posters covering the walls. Different things to say rise to the tip of your tongue, but none of them spill over.

Eddie turns towards you when he’s done.

“You didn’t have to lie.” Your shoulders sink as you meet his gaze, but he easily turns to humor, “You could’ve just told me you were tired of being cramped up in a trailer. I probably would’ve agreed.”

You can feel the ghost of a smile on your face, but you still mean your next words, “I feel like the worst person in the world.”

His nose wrinkles. “Maybe the fourth or fifth, but definitely not the worst.”

In spite of everything, both of you find it within yourselves to laugh. It feels good, mending.

You regain your composure before Eddie, and upon noticing he tries even harder to quell his amusement. It takes a few extra seconds because he’s high, but he finally manages to get himself under control.

He thinks before his next words, “I wasn’t expecting you to come back. You never do.” A lump forms in your throat as you toy with the hem of your sweater. “And all I can think about every time you leave is how I let you walk away without telling you how fucking much I enjoy you being around.”

You swallow. “I know you do.”

He shakes his head. “I like hanging out with the guys too—I’ll hang out with anybody if they’re cool.” You watch him with doe eyes as he speaks. “But you, you’re a whole different story. You drive me crazy in the best fucking way ever.” Those words hang thick in the air. “When I blew that eyelash of your finger, I wished—”

“Wait,” you hold out a careful hand, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Don’t tell me.” Part of you wants him to, but not at the expense of the wish not coming true.

That keeps him quiet for a few seconds. He’s still charged from his confession, electricity having taken the place of blood within his veins.

“You came back,” Eddie states instead. “Why?”

His eyes don’t leave you, and you take in his entirety for the first time since you’ve been back. Long hair, short sleeve Metallica shirt, faded pajama pants. He doesn’t have his chest puffed out or his chin turned up in that charming way he often does when he’s working a crowd or a group of friends.

He’s leveled. No guard up, no mask on, just Eddie.

The one who’s been by your side since fifth grade. Who could make your sides ache on the days when laughing was the last thing you thought you could do. Who got on your nerves almost every time you were together, but still managed to be one of your favorite people in the world.

“You know how you always say there’s no shame in running?” you ask, shifting your weight. You’d sat in on enough of his D&D campaigns to have heard that phrase uttered.

He nods.

“Well, we both know it’s also worth something when you have the guts to stay. So this is me choosing not to run anymore.” From your feelings or from him.

The room shrinks and grows one hundred degrees hotter when Eddie moves to stand closer to you. He reaches out to grasp your hand, calluses brushing your skin. The chunky metal rings adorning his fingers glint.

Your next breath stalls as he presses your palm flat against the left side of his chest. The quickened rhythm of his heart drums against it fiercely. A mix of vulnerability and courage are married in his eyes.

“Same,” you whisper, and his lips twitch upwards. “Here I was thinking this was gonna be just another Friday night.”

You let your hand fall from his chest.

A grin breaks across his face like dawn, more tender than it’s ever been. “I’m glad it’s not.”

Time slows as he cups your face, eyes flitting over every detail as if to memorize it all over again. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He whispers it like there’s nothing to question, like he's been waiting forever.

You don’t mean to smile as wide as you do. His heart skips a beat, maybe two. He’s done holding back from what he’s been wanting to do for so long.

Not another second passes before he presses his lips to yours.

They move with careful earnesty. Despite the fact that it feels like your entire body bursts into stardust, you kiss him back with an innate sense of knowing. You can feel the puffs of air from his nose fanning over your skin, the way his thumbs brush over your cheeks. It’s intoxicating in a way that makes you weak in the knees. Even with the newness of it all, there’s an air of ease and familiarity that you lose yourself within. You don’t worry if you’re doing it right.

By the time he pushes you backwards to sit on the edge of his bed, he’s taken off your sweater and tossed it onto the floor, leaving your pale pink bra newly on display.

From your seated position, you watch him pull his own shirt over his head, further disheveling his hair. His milky skin hosts a myriad of dark tattoos and fading scars. Anticipation swirls in your core as he encourages you to lay on your back, propping himself overtop of you. He pecks the tip of your nose before slotting his lips over yours once again.

A surprised sound escapes you when his lips begin to plant a trail of kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck, head tilting to give him more access. The moment your conscience catches up to reality, you push at his chest and he immediately pulls away.

“Too much?” He studies your face. You can’t bring yourself to say no because you don’t want it to end.

“I think I just need a second. Sorry.” Embarrassment clings to your words, but you muster a shaky laugh. “I’m not used to this kinda thing.”

Eddie had experienced his share of sporadic flings, but his feelings never ran as deep as they do for you.

“You’re okay,” he soothes. “I may like pushing your buttons, but ‘m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, alright?”

In all your years of knowing him, he’d never given you reason to believe he’d ever discount your feelings. Or that he was even capable of doing so.

You raise a hand to cup his cheek. “Let’s keep going.”

“You sure?” He turns his head to kiss your palm. “Absolutely positive?” He dips down and playfully nips at your collarbone. “Cross your heart?”

You bite your lip to keep from giggling, but fail when he begins to move lower. He drinks in your laughter like it’s an elixir.

He continues a disorderly line of kisses down your stomach, and your mind is beyond hazy by the time he reaches the waistband of your jeans. You don’t utter any words of protest when he kneels to pop the button open. The subsequent sound of your zipper being pulled down might as well be thunder with how quiet the room has grown aside from it.

Your panties are the same pink as your bra, trimmed with thin lace that makes Eddie dizzy. Without waiting for him to ask, you lift your hips for him to pull down your pants. Once they’re on the floor, he runs his hands over both of your thighs, trying his best to memorize the feeling. You briefly close your eyes when his fingers ghost over the soft fabric of your underwear. Nerves bundle low in your stomach to the point where you feel like a live wire laying exposed before him.

“You’re gonna be the end of me,” he says like a scripture.

“Me?” you peer down at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, you. Who else?” He lifts the thin waistband of your panties and lets it snap back down to your skin. “I’m gonna take ‘em off.” He only makes the announcement to give you a chance to refute it.

Rather than doing so, you brace your feet so you can lift your hips for him once more.

You’ve known him for the better half of your life. If anyone, your trust can reside in him.

A string of awed expletives slip past his lips when there’s nothing left between him and your heat. To stop himself from staring, he turns his face into your thigh to suck a bruise into the plush skin. You don’t realize that’s what he’s doing until you feel the tiny pinch that stings so good.

Your silence is perceived as permission to switch to the other leg to do the same. You can hear your heart in your ears, and regard it as a reminder that you’re alive and breathing during a moment you never thought would come.

You’re marked now, his.

He runs a gentle finger from your clit to your wet folds, and your own sensitivity surprises you when your thighs snap closed and trap his hand.

“Sorry,” you breathe, slowly blooming them open again. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, where fondness seems to radiate like imperceivable rays of light.

After pressing a kiss to the space just beneath your navel, he stands and climbs onto the bed with you. You sit up and look to him for further direction.

An easy smile spreads across his face as he settles with his back against the wall where a headboard should be.

“C’mere,” he stretches his legs out in front of himself.

You crawl to him and sit so that your back is pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. It isn’t until you shift that you feel his erection pressing into your rear.

You peek back at him with hot cheeks. “Sorry.”

Eddie drops a kiss to your shoulder. “You’ve apologized five hundred times tonight.” You shrink in on yourself because you know it’s true. “You’re not allowed to anymore, capeesh?”

You nod.

“Now prop your legs up, buttercup.” You can hear the smile in his voice that hopes you caught his rhyme.

You press your feet into his sheets and spread your knees into a V.

His pointer finger finds your clit without warning, applying just enough pressure to hitch your breath. You’ve touched yourself before, but had never taken the time to truly gain an understanding of the deeper pleasure there was to be felt.

Here Eddie was, showing you what you didn’t know about yourself.

He switches to rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger glides through the slickness of your folds, making you clench with want. You reach between your legs with the hope of helping, or perhaps egging things along, but Eddie tuts.

“Hands off or I’ll stop.” His tone is gentle and commanding all at once.

Even though you follow his instructions, he still withdraws his touch. A protest ends up dying in your throat when you feel his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra and pushing the straps down your goosebump-laden arms. It soon joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. You’ve never been so bare in front of another person.

“Jesus, look at you,” he murmurs. His large hands raise to cup your breasts, fingers experimentally pinching both of your pebbled nipples. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful sight.

You watch with hooded eyes and parted lips. Caught off guard when he grabs your hands and redirects them to your chest to take over for him. You tentatively pinch your nipples in the same way he’d done, sending minute shockwaves through your body.

“There you go,” he coos into your ear. A gasp falls past your lips when his hand dips back between your legs to ease the tip of his middle finger into your entrance. As he pushes it in further, your toes curl tighter.

But his touch disappears yet again, making an exasperated breath leave you as your head falls backwards onto his shoulder.

“Eddie,” it’s a whine. “Are you teasing me?”

“No. I forgot to take my rings off.” They clink as he drops them onto the nightstand. “But I think I will now since you just had to say something.” The charged promise of those words sends a chill down your spine.

You’re begging three minutes later. A melodic mix of weakened pleads, his name, and incoherent bargains that only make him smile.

He’s trapped you on the edge of a freefall. Your thighs ache from tensing, and the strong pulse of arousal between your legs consumes the entirety of your mind. His two middlemost fingers pump in and out of your entrance with no sense of urgency, curling into that spot within you that makes you want to shatter. Whenever he senses that you’re about to topple over the edge, he pauses to let a few seconds crawl by.

It’s scary how good he is at reading you. At holding the reins.

“I can’t anymore,” you breathlessly insist, pressing back into him. “Eddie, please.”

“Sure you can.” He suckles the spot beneath your ear. In your head, you scream at him in frustration but in reality you squeeze your eyes shut.

He doesn’t know who he’s teasing anymore. Listening to you whimper and feeling you squirm has him twitching and straining in his boxers.

Somewhere along the line, he remembers mercy.

As soon as the cord within you snaps, your back arches and your walls flutter helplessly around his fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you in strong heated waves, each one fizzling out in their own time, making you tremble.

When your breaths grow even again, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you as you watch, awed and silent. You place a hand on his thigh to ensure he stays close.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, basking in the warmth of each other’s body, the new air between you. It’s as if you’re waiting to be roused from a dream.

“I wanna keep making you feel good,” he eventually murmurs into your ear, smirking when you shiver. “Will you let me do that?”

The feeling of his erection pressing into your backside suddenly registers in your mind again, and you reach behind you to curiously palm the outline through his pajama pants. He feels it in his bones.

“You can do whatever you want,” you tell him.

Eddie grabs your waist and gently pushes you forward so you know to let him get up. You settle in the middle of the bed and pull your legs up to your chest in a halfhearted reclaim of modesty.

He stalks over to his dresser and scans the cluttered surface with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. You trace his back tattoos with your eyes. After pushing a few stray trinkets aside, he makes a sound of frustration.

“What's wrong?” you ask.

He continues looking. “Coulda sworn there was a condom lying around up here.”

After a beat, you crawl to the edge of his bed so you can peek into the drawer of his nightstand. There’s notebooks filled with song lyrics, old magazines, a Walkman, batteries, guitar picks. No square foils in sight.

“Can’t we still…” your words fade when he meets your gaze, but he gives you an encouraging nod. “You know. If we’re extra careful, right?” Your voice is just above a murmur by the time you stop speaking.

The innocence seeping from your gaze makes a helpless fool out of him.

The next thing you know, he’s pulling his pants and boxers down in one go, cock springing up towards his belly as you watch with owlish eyes. A dark tuft of hair curls at the base, and the head is a pretty shade of rose that’s beading pearlescent pre-cum. A prominent vein snakes along the underside.

You’re more than ready. It’s the lightning in a bottle type sureness that you can’t believe you’ve come to know so well. The second he starts moving towards the bed again, you reposition onto your back.

Though you don’t utter a single word, every unspoken thought from your mind seems to shape his smile. It’s not entirely proud, there’s a hint of softness to it. Something giddy residing just beneath the surface that takes the edge off the intensity of his gaze.

A comforting heat radiates from his body as he positions himself overtop of you.

He reaches between your legs to collect the tell tale sign of your arousal on his fingers, and your eyelashes flutter. “Nice and ready for me, huh?”

The tone of his voice makes you want to hide. You feel small and on top of the world at the same time. Eagerness is written all over your face. And in the way your chest rises with quicker breaths. How your fingers are curled into the sheets.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You’re glad he does because you’re certain all words would fail if you tried to speak.

All you can do is blink up at him, propping your legs on either side of him as he lines himself up at your entrance.

It’s overwhelming at first, incomparable to his fingers. But he takes it slow, watching your face the whole while. Before you know it, you’ve stretched to take the entirety of his length, and his eyes are glued to where you’re joined.

He bottoms out with a satisfied grunt, hair falling into his face. The fullness makes up for the dull ache. Especially as he begins to slowly pull out in preparation for another pump. A gasp escapes you the second time he eases back in, and your face scrunches with the new depth that comes with hooking your legs around the back of his thighs.

“If you wanna stop at any point just tell me, okay?” He tries his best to keep his voice steady.

“Okay,” you whisper shakily.

He finds a rhythm before long, cheeks flushed right along with his chest. He looks beautiful like this. Even his pleasured sighs and huffs rush straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Lemme hear you,” his voice comes out gruff. “Stop holding back.”

You swallow a moan. “‘M not.”

Unconvinced, Eddie rolls one of your nipples between his fingers, and your breath stutters on its way out. You don’t remember being this sensitive earlier, and a few more pinches have your mouth gaping open just as he expected.

His thrusts grow pointedly harder, forcing the fire building in your core to burn brighter.

“Oh, god—Eddie,” you finally choke out, gripping onto his biceps.

He swears he grows impossibly harder, orgasm creeping even closer from its place in the distance. You’re so soft, so warm, so wet, squeezing him in a maddening way. Your blunt fingernails move to dig into the back of his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake.

“Say my name again.”

“Eddie,” you sigh, helplessly clenching around him. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” You sound dreamy. It rushes straight between his legs, and he can feel that familiar coil beginning to wear thin.

Hearing you say his name like that was going to do him in.

A sudden burst of confidence finds you. “You’re so deep—gonna make me come.”

His hips falter and something shifts in his eyes. He starts drawing circles over your clit.

“I wanna feel you fall apart around me,” he says, and you nod because you want that for him. “But not until I say, alright?”

Your stomach drops.

When you don’t answer, he slows to a torturous pace that makes your head spin. “Gotta answer me so I know we’re on the same page.”

“We always have been,” you half slur, drunk on him.

As Eddie looks down at you, he sees a large fraction of his world woven into the delicate furrow of your eyebrows, the way your eyelashes meet the very tops of your cheeks, the part of your cherry-tainted lips.

He lowers himself so that his chest is grazing yours as he continues thrusting, pubic bone dragging over your clit. The feeling of his warm breaths fanning into your ear makes you shudder, and when you arch up, you’re only met by more of his warmth, more of him. There is no escape, nowhere to run. Only accept.

“Wish I could, shit, wish I could bottle this feeling in a fucking jar and keep it forever,” he grits into your ear. “Never felt anything this good… five stars from me.” He’s fighting to hold himself together.

You miss half of those words because you’re on the verge of an ascension.

“Eddie,” you breathe, somewhat startled. “Eddie, please. Can I come? I’m so close.”

“How close?”

Your voice goes airy and high because he’s hitting just the right spot. “‘M right there.”

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” Whining, you claw into his skin with the intent of making it sting, but it only makes his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “I’ll shut this whole show down if you wanna play that game—”

“So good!” you whimper, giving in. “You’re making me feel so good. Just… please.” You clench around him in hopes of earning an okay.

It almost makes him fold, come right on the spot, but he still forces out a, “Not yet, angel. I gotta practice telling you no, remember?”

His constant denial was only adding fuel to the fire of pleasure burning within you and he knew it.

By his next thrust, he could tell the beginnings of an unraveling had begun sweeping you under. Even though he sees it coming from a mile away, he nearly passes out himself when you let go.

Eyes closed, your walls flutter around him in a strong, rapid succession that carries on for a while. You’re being lifted somewhere higher than you’ve ever known. The world fades around the edges, and the distant sound of Eddie’s voice washes over you as your jaw slacks open.

There you go, that’s it. Couldn’t hold back any longer, huh?

Only when aftershocks begin to spark through you do you realize how deep your breaths have grown, and the new laxity of your limbs that makes you feel like you’ve become one with his bed, trembling weakly. A wonderful ache resides between your legs.

A gentle weight soon meets your lower stomach, and your eyes flutter open just enough to see. Eddie has pulled himself from within the warmth of you, and rested his slickened tip against your warm skin. You watch dazedly as he strokes himself a few good times before jolting and releasing onto your belly.

All you get is a glimpse of his blissed expression before he leans down to tuck his face into your neck. You lift a hand to his head and gently scratch at his scalp as you feel him begin to place soft kisses to your throat. You can still feel his cock against your belly, and you work your other hand between your bodies to wrap your delicate fingers around him.

His whole body shudders, and when you lightly circle your thumb around the tip your name breathlessly falls past his lips.

He grunts and makes you stop when you start to do the same lazy motion again, and you chuckle weakly.

“Oh, is that funny?” he asks, wrestling a smile. When you bite your lip and nod sweetly, he pushes himself up so he’s propped higher above you. “You wanna know what else is funny? I don’t think I ever gave you the green light to come.”

You blink up at him innocently. “I couldn’t help it.”

He begins tracing the underside of one of your breasts and you suck in a breath, gripping onto his wrist. He pulls from your hold, and that same hand trails down your body, over your ribs and down your sides. His fingers leave a tingly buzz in their wake. You try not to squirm too much because his spend is still on your stomach.

“I’m trying to decide if I should do something about it or be nice,” he says, ghosting a finger over your oversensitive clit.

When you whimper, his fingertips move to revisit one of the marks he left on the inside of your thighs, and the ticklish sensation makes your muscles tense as you huff out a tired laugh. He playfully quirks his brows at that reaction, but you can see the warmth in his eyes.

You smile when he leans down to give your lips a sweet peck. “I’ll be nice,'' he promises. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

•••

When midnight comes, sleep has found neither of you. You’re both fighting it, trying to stay awake so you can continue sharing hushed stories, soft caresses, and smiles that warm you right along with the sheets covering your bodies.

Your eyes are the first to begin fluttering, and Eddie stops talking when he notices.

“No, keep going,” you murmur. “I’m listening.”

“We can talk more in the morning,” he says. You shake your head no, and he chuckles. “Yes. Go to sleep.”

Before you have the chance to say anything else, he reaches out to turn the bedside lamp off. You press yourself closer to his body after he settles back beside you.

Neither of you say anything for a while, so you begin to assume he’s dozed off. When he speaks up again, his words are soft and honest, “This is what I wished for. A moment just like this.”

You mean to tell him that you think you’re in love.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.

For more fics, see my pinned post!

To join my taglist, turn on notifications for @taleseverlasting

#eddie munson #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #4 stranger things fic

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snail-noodle · 8 months ago

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Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Before he got corrupted, he was once called Light Milk Cookie (I'll change it once they reveal his true past name in canon)

I may have went a bit far with these.... enjoy 🤗

◇◇◇◇◇◇

💙 Before his corruption, he was known as Light Milk Cookie. You first met him when he stopped to rest at your village. You were absolutely mesmerized at his appearance, barely catching onto his question. "I've traveled quite a distance. Is there perhaps an inn around here that I could rest at?"

You stuttered as you offered him a room to stay in your home, informing him that your village had no inn, just a few shops. Hearing your offer, he gave you the most beautiful smile you have ever seen from a cookie, thanking you for your generosity.

💙 Light Milk Cookie had meant to stay in your village just for a day or two. In the end, he ended up staying for 3 whole weeks! Word had gotten out to the other villagers that one of the Five Great Cookies had arrived to their humble little town. Some believed he had stayed to show and tell the villagers of his knowledge that he had received throughout the years. In truth, he had stayed for you.

💙 During his stay, he spent most of his time with you. You would both talk about your favorite hobbies, your dreams, and the places you wish to see. Light Milk Cookie would listen to you with great interest, mentally keeping notes of what you like, what you didn't like, things you yearned for, and so much more.

💙 Your village is founded in the middle of a forest with a river nearby. You were a bit more adventurous than those in your village, so you would show him the many hidden spots that had the best sceneries in the forest. There was eventually a moment where the two of you had confessed your feelings for each other. The gentle sound of running water of the nearby river and the soft chirps from the birds among the trees only made the moment even more intimate and romantic.

The two of you practically spent the whole day in that quiet little spot. Hidden away from prying eyes, the two of lay close to each other, your hand entangled with his as you listened to his many stories of his past adventures with his friends.

💙 Before he left to continue his journey, he left you an enchanted scroll. He laughed softly at your confused face, "This scroll will allow us to communicate, even when we're far apart from each other." Reaching inside his backpack, he took out another scroll and a quill pen. He took a moment to write something, and once he finished and closed the scroll, the soft chime of a bell rang from the scroll you had been holding.

Opening the scroll, you blushed as you read what he had written for you. "This is.. this is amazing!" You gazed at the scroll with wonder and excitement. Light Milk Cookie's heart fluttered at your praise. The enchanted scroll had been a new idea that he came up with recently. To hear this from you filled his heart with so much joy!

💙 With an embrace and a loving kiss, you bid him a farewell. You stood at your front door, your gaze never leaving his form as he grew smaller the further he walked away. Only when he was completely out of sight did you finally return back to your home. He had left you the magic scroll, but he had also left you with a few items of his own. You reached for the scarf that he had gifted you, you giggled as you wrapped it around your neck, the sweet smell of blueberries enveloping your senses.

💙 As time went on, the two of you would exchange letters to each other at every moment. The sound of a bell ringing in your house almost every minute. Weeks would go by as he would tell you about every cookie and creature he would encounter in his path. Some good, some bad, and some downright strange. As the holder of Knowledge itself, you knew he was stronger than any other cookie in this world. Still, you can't help but worry whenever he mentioned having to fight a beast or some vile bandits.

💙 Just as he wrote you about his encounters, he wrote you many poems dedicated to you and your hometown. Some had you giggling, and some had you completely red in the face. His words were like honey; He yearned to have you by his side, to join him in his own kingdom. He made promises to take you to see the vast world that is Earthbread.

💙 Eventually, he had reached his destination and promised to send you a letter later that night. You waited a whole day, but then that day turned to weeks, and those weeks turned to months. Your mind and soul ached with worry for your lover. You would send him a letter once a day, hoping for any response. Your heart is aching for his comforting words.

Nothing.

💙 One morning, as you were preparing breakfast to start your day, you froze as the sound of a bell chimed across the house. Rushing to your room with tears in your eyes, you quickly grabbed the scroll from your desk, your hands shaking as you read what he wrote you.

I'm coming, my dearest.

A shriek of terror was heard outside the moment you finished reading the words. Your heart pounded with fear as you ran outside to see the commotion. You gasped at the sight before you. What once was a beautiful morning sky has now turned to complete darkness. Eyes... many blue blinking eyes, big and small, littered the dark abyss. All of them seemed to be looking straight at you.

💙 Laughter. The sound of laughter rang out throughout the sky. "At last, at last! I've returned to you, my love!" You gasped as a cookie suddenly appeared right in front of you, causing you to stumble back and fall. Before you could even hit the ground, the strange cookie caught you just in time.

"Be careful, my precious pearl! Wouldn't want you to crumble so soon!" His eyes twinkled at you mischievously, giving you the most biggest grin you've ever seen from a cookie. You looked at the strange cookie, no, the strange jester, with confusion. His voice, the hair, and those brilliant blue eyes. They reminded you so much of him. Surely it couldn't be...?

"Light Milk Cookie?"

#BOY OH BOY #i love romance guys #i love evil little jesters #:]#shadow milk cookie #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #shadow milk cookie x reader #crk #crob #crk x reader #my writing

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wcnderlnds · 1 month ago

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spooky scary movies | peter maximoff

✧ fluff/angstober day one | scary movies ✧

・❥・warnings: peter is a lil suggestive bc he’s peter and mentions of chucky ig. ・❥・ authors note: a day later than i wanted but we here. also trying out a new format 💕

“Sweet! What snacks we got?” Peter jumped over the back of the couch, sitting down next to you. It took him no time at all to start rummaging through the snacks you’d placed on the small coffee table.

Somehow, you had managed to convince Peter to have a scary movie marathon with you. Spooky season was finally here and there was no better way to kick things off than with a marathon of all the best spooky movies. It was even more of a necessity when Peter had told you he hadn’t seen most of the ones you’d listed off to him. How could he not have seen the classics like Friday The 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street?

Peter wasn’t exactly the type of guy that sat and watched movies. He had tried — he had really tried so many times but sitting still for such a long period of time wasn’t in his repertoire. Focusing on just one thing for more than ten minutes was hard, he constantly had to be on the go, had to be doing something. Sitting down and watching something for almost two hours seemed like torture to him. It was so slow. Too slow but for you, he’d get his shit together and give it a go even if it pained him. Besides, it was worth it to see the wide smile on your face. Your excitement made him feel all gross and tingly inside — he hated the feeling and loved it all at the same time.

“Peter,” you scolded him, batting his hands away. “Don’t finger all the food before the movies even started.”

“I’d like to finger someth-” You cut him off with your hand over his mouth before he could even finish his sentence.

“Behave,” you blushed, moving your hand away when he licked your palm. “Gross.”

He snickered, quickly snatching a Twinkie off the table. He leaned back against the couch, ripping it open and almost stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. All you could do was roll your eyes. Typical Peter but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

The silver haired speedster had had your heart for the last six months. It had been a slow blossoming romance. It had started with lingering looks, hugs that lasted longer than they should’ve until one day he had ran right up to you and, in a flurry of words, had asked you on a date. From there things had only grown and here you were now.

Peter’s arms were stretched out on the back of the couch, one of his legs crossed over the over. He looked like the epitome of comfortable as he finished chewing his Twinkie. “We’re watching the one with the weird doll first, right?”

“Chucky and yes, we are.” She hit play on the movie. Peter had insisted they watch this one first because the idea of a killer doll seemed hilarious to him.

An hour into the movie and you were cuddled into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. His leg was bobbing up and down, his fingers drumming on the arm of the couch. It was getting harder and harder for him to stay still but the fact he was trying for you warmed your heart. You looked at him, his eyes were focused on the movie until you placed your hand on his bouncing knee.

“Hey,” he smiled down at you.

“You hate this, don’t you?”

“What? No! I…. it’s just hard for me to stay still but I’m enjoying it, promise. Being here with you, watching this freaky little doll is a blast. Promise, babe.”

You searched his eyes for any sign that he was just telling you what you wanted to hear. When you found none, you cupped his cheek. “You’re too good to me, Peter Maximoff.”

“Pfft, shutup.”

“Make me.”

Peter grinned. In one swift movement, his lips were on yours in a soft, gentle kiss. His hands gripped your hips to pull you into his lap, your arms wrapping around his neck as you settled into him. His tongue traced along your bottom lip and it took no time at all for you to part your lips, his tongue meeting yours. The movie was completely forgotten now. As the kiss grew more passionate, Peter slid his hands under your shirt, holding your waist. A content sigh passed his lips briefly before they captured yours again.

It was very, very reluctantly that he pulled away. His forehead rested gently on yours, his eyes closed until he spoke and ruined the moment in only the way he could. “So, this Chucky doll… he’s totally real, right?”

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #flufftober #this is garbage bye

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golbrocklovely · 13 days ago

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crave // sam and colby

A/N: sorry for posting this so late. had to finish up a few things on it, and i'm super tired so it kinda took me a while. this fic was a lot of fun to write, and if you squint it's sort of a sequel to "our girlfriend" (but not actually). lmk what you think and happy haunting :)

prompt: snc are vamps, but they need to keep their secret under wraps. they ask you, their long time best friend, to come out with them on tour to be their blood donor. what could go wrong? || AU!vampire!sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, but no actual sex, just a lot of dirty talk/description, snc are vampires, mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking (from both parties), their blood makes you horny, cursing, petnames mentioned: baby girl, sweetheart, darling, good girl, ours, deception, possibly some dubcon so just be weary of that if that's not your thing, but don't worry… it's all a dream…. or is it???

word count: 5428

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was odd having vampires for friends while being a human. Odd, but interesting.

Sam and Colby had been my friends since they moved out to LA, and it felt like we knew each other longer than that. We grew close almost instantly, telling each other some of our deepest secrets within the first few days of knowing one another. Then one day, they told me they were vampires. Of course I didn’t take them seriously; I mean who would? Vampires aren’t real.

I soon learned very quickly that they were when I caught one of the boys drinking from a girl at a party.

Eventually I came around to the idea. I mean, vampires are pretty cool, so knowing my best friends were ones was kind of awesome. Especially since that lead to so many other questions of what else is out there.

Sam and Colby weren’t much help in that department. They only knew that they were changed right before moving to LA. They didn’t know by who or why, but they learned to accept it and embrace it quickly. Everything new that they learned about themselves and their kind, they told me.

They were scared, however, that one day their secret would come out. A very small number of people knew about their... abilities. Vampires weren’t known to the broader world yet, and they definitely didn’t want to be the first to come out.

It was getting harder to hide their secret as they grew more and more successful. More eyes were on them. And then they told me about how they planned to go on a tour, meeting as many fans as possible across the US. I was excited for them, but was a little nervous. They deserved all the love that they were getting from their fans, but hiding their true identity wasn't going to be easy on tour.

But then, they asked me something I would have never expected.

“Would you go on tour with us as our... blood donor?” Colby asked, unable to keep eye contact with me.

I raised an eyebrow at him and Sam, “...What?”

“Okay, so... usually when we go out of the country or whatever, we’re able to secure a donor, or even blood bags from local hospitals. But because we are going to every state, sometimes twice, it’s hard to do that without people growing suspicious. And while we could go feed on people, we might get caught. So we were wondering if maybe you would want to go on tour with us and... we would drink from you instead.” Sam explained, fidgeting slightly in his chair.

Colby chimed in, “Of course you can say no. But if you do it, we would 100% compensate you, however you want. We know you’re busy with your career as well, but we promise to pay you well. And of course get you your own hotel rooms and food.”

“Everything would be paid for. And you would really be doing us a solid.” Sam added.

“What would my position be for those that ask?” I questioned, crossing my arms.

“You’d be our second assistant, since we already have one. Plus, we would just let anyone know that you’re our friend joining us to meet fans.” Sam answered.

“Hmm..." I asked, lowering my voice, "Does it hurt? Being... fed on?”

“The initial bite can feel like being pricked with a needle. But afterwards, it shouldn’t be bad.” Sam remarked.

Colby commented, "Plus we would give you our blo-"

Sam smacked him in the arm, glaring, "Dude, how about we ease into that conversation?"

"You would give me your blood? To what?" I queried.

They both paused, "...Drink."

I narrowed my eyes, "Humans can drink vampire blood?"

"Yes. And apparently they like it. A lot." Colby laughed.

Sam smirked, "He dated a girl once that got really into his blood. So much so she stalked him for it."

"Jesus," I mumbled. "Wait, was that-?"

"Ashley, yeah." Colby nodded.

I gasped, "Oh my god, I thought she was just crazy."

"Well, she was. Off of vampire blood." Sam chuckled.

"Our blood can give a euphoric feeling to the person that drinks it. So sometimes people react to it like it’s a drug." Colby mentioned.

Sam continued, "But it heals you, which is why we give it in the first place. If we drink from you, you drink ours."

"So... will you do it? Be our blood donor?" Colby asked, a nervous smile on his lips.

I took a minute, weighing the pros and cons in my mind. I exhaled, nodding, "Sure."

Both of them grinned excitedly. "Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea how much this helps us."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

The tour began a couple days later, all of us meeting at the airport and flying to our first stop, New York City. The meet and greet, sponsored by Zumiez, was being held in a large theater. It was gorgeous and very spacious. The nice thing was that I got my own little dressing room, filled with snacks and anything else I had requested. I was surprised at how weirdly relaxing my day had been, having just sat around and worked on a few things for my actual job.

Sam and Colby hadn't fed on me yet, and I was getting worried. How often do they need to drink? Are they both going to do it at once? Is it actually going to hurt? What-?

A soft knock at my door brought me out of my thoughts. I walked over to the door, opening it slowly. Sam stood, leaning against the door frame. "Can I come in?"

I nodded, opening the door more for him. "What's up?"

"Would you be okay with me drinking from you now? I know it's kind of last minute, but I promise next time I'll give you more of a heads up. Or maybe we could make a schedule or something." He laughed awkwardly.

"Can I ask some questions before we do it?" I requested, sitting down on the couch.

He agreed, leaning against the vanity across from me. "Of course. Whatever you want to know."

"How often do you guys need to drink?" I questioned.

"Once a day is usually our go to. More sometimes if we're really hungry or if we skipped a day." He admitted plainly.

"Do you both have to drink from me simultaneously?" I continued.

Sam shook his head, "No. If anything, it's better that we do it separately, especially since this is the first time you're having someone feed off of you."

"So Colby is gonna feed off of me later?" I asked, relaxing back against my seat.

"Maybe. He might skip today and feed tomorrow. That's what he was thinking of doing. He's a bit stronger than me when it comes to..." Sam cleared his throat, "urges."

"Oh... Have you guys ever... you know?" I mimed slicing my throat, killing someone.

He gaped at me, "My God no. We know how to stop before it ever gets to that point. The last thing we want to do is kill someone. So you don't need to worry. Plus, too much human blood makes us high."

"Really?" I snorted.

"Yeah. We only learned that from a random vampire we met in Vegas, so it might be a lie. We haven't exactly tested that theory." He commented.

"Okay..." I exhaled, "I think I'm ready."

He walked towards me, smiling politely. "Alright. Come here."

I slowly stood up, stepping towards him. He placed his hands on my waist, holding me in place.

He locked eyes with me, "If it hurts, you tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

"Yes sir." I saluted teasingly.

His face dropped, "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you. Neither of us do."

"I know. I appreciate the concern." I sighed, "Just drink."

He nodded, cupping one side of my face gently. He turned my head so my neck was more exposed. He lowered his head into my throat, breathing me in for a moment. My heart skipped a beat, confused and overwhelmed. I hadn't realized how intimate this was going to be.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth, sinking his fangs in. I winced, grabbing his forearms to steady myself. He took a gulp of my blood, a very quiet moan falling from his lips. I could feel my blood leave my body, my life draining gradually. My legs began to go limp, unable to hold up my body weight. Sam caught me, pressing me closer into his warm embrace. He grunted, pulling his mouth away, licking up the excess blood that spilt from the bite.

"Are you okay, Y/N? Talk to me." He held my face, making me focus on him.

I slurred my words a bit, "I feel... okayyyy."

"Here, let's sit you down and give you some of my blood." Sam walked me to the couch, placing me down. He sat behind me, leaning me against him. He bit into his wrist, blood gushing from it. "Drink, Y/N."

He pressed his wrist to my mouth, forcing my lips to open. I tasted his blood, grimacing at the taste. But suddenly, it tasted amazing. Like everything sweet I had ever had rolled into one. I wrapped my lips over his bite, drinking from him quickly. I had never been this thirsty for something before in my life. It was like being on the brink of dehydration and finding a whole bottle of water. I placed my hands on the back of his arm, needing him more in my mouth.

"There you go, baby girl. Drink up." Sam cooed, rubbing my hair softly.

I moaned against him, my body buzzing. My one hand dropped down onto his thigh, gripping it. Erotic thoughts crowded my thoughts, another groan leaving my mouth.

He pulled his arm away, sitting me up instantly. "That's enough, Y/N. Don't want to get you high."

I felt a whine fall from my lips, embarrassment heating up my cheeks as I realized what I did. "Oh, um, shit. My bad, Sam. Sorry."

"No, you're okay," he assured me, standing up. "I've heard it's hard for humans to stop once they've started, so we kinda have to yank you away from us."

I could suddenly feel my damp underwear press against me, my face burning up more. "I-I get it. Thanks for doing that. It felt like I couldn't stop. A-Are you okay?"

"Yeah, already healed." He showed his wrist, the bite gone. "Make sure to drink plenty of water and eat something. You'll probably actually feel hungry soon."

I pursed my lips. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

Sam took a few steps towards the door, stopping abruptly. He spun back, his eyes wide. "Oh my God, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you something!"

I blinked, "What?

"Having our blood in your system... it might make you dream about us." He stated.

I chuckled, "Wait really? That's weird."

"Yeah. But um... the dreams might be a bit on the... sexual side?" He grimaced.

My face dropped, "What."

"That's what some people, girls, have said to us in the past," he mentioned. "I don't know if it's true, but it can happen. So I just want you to be aware."

I mumbled, "Would have been nice to know about this beforehand..."

Sam replied, his expression softened. "I apologize, really. It just slipped my mind. I haven't drank from someone directly in a while so I totally forgot."

"Hey, it's alright. It's just a dream." I added, "It might not even happen."

He grinned, "Exactly."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

It happened.

It very much happened.

The dream itself was odd, all over the place, and I barely remembered any of it. All I knew was that I woke up hot, sweating, and aching to be fucked. By specifically Sam. That, tied with literally soaking my underwear as he drank from me.... I was not excited to keep this job up.

Even if the pay was phenomenal.

But maybe things would get easier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after we got into a routine.

The next day they told me that they would make sure to have one of them only feeding on me once a day, that was I wasn't 'overworked'. Sam would go on even days, Colby on odds. And today was odd.

It was midday, the boys already a couple hours into their meet and greet. I waited backstage in a small hallway, scrolling through Instagram. Colby hadn't drank from me, and I wondered if he even planned to.

I heard footsteps coming towards me, heavy on the heel. I looked up and spotted Colby. He gave me a light smile, growing closer to me.

"Hey, are you okay? Shouldn't you be out on stage meeting fans?" I questioned, squinting at him.

"We are. We're taking a ten minute break." He responded, pressing his back against the wall by me.

"Oh, that's good. You guys have been at it for..." I checked my watch, "Four hours, wow."

Colby interrupted, "I know this is last minute to ask you, but can I... get a drink?"

"Right here? Now?" I pointed to the hallway.

"Yeah. No one is coming down this hallway. Security is making sure of that." He stated firmly.

I lowered my voice, "Do they know?"

"Of course." He bit his lip, "I'm sorry to do this right now, but I'm worried if I wait until after, I might... snap, on someone."

My eyes widened, "Oh... We wouldn't want that."

"No, we would not." He laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah. Go ahead." I stood up, taking a deep breath as I looked at him.

"Here, put your hands on my shoulders. I don't want you to fall over." He directed.

"Okay." I giggled, doing what he said. He lightly placed his hands on my hips, pushing closer to me. I did my best not to shudder, his closeness making my heart erratic. I turned my neck towards the wall, feeling his breath fan across my skin. I inhaled, and felt his teeth sink in quickly. I gasped, the pain lasting for a moment. I cupped his shoulders hard as he drank from me, slowly draining my blood into himself. He hummed, his hands slipping up my back and pulling me in deeper. I sighed, pleasure taking over my senses.

It felt good to have Colby this close, to feel him drink from me. That thought alone made my heart skip.

Colby pulled away, looking at me hesitantly, "Are you okay? I heard your heart stop for a second."

"Wha? Yeah, I'm fine." I could feel my hands tremble, "I think I forgot to breathe."

"Well, take some of my blood." He bit his wrist, pushing it towards me.

"I don't know, I think I'm okay." I argued half-heartedly.

"Drink, Y/N. Don't be stubborn." Colby smirked playfully at me.

I glared back sassily, leaning towards his bite. I placed my mouth on it as he pressed it further into my mouth. His hand rested softly on my side as my body turned into him, my back pressing against his front. As I spun, his hand drifted lower, touching the top of my thigh.

I sucked his blood down, the sweetness driving me crazy immediately. It was different from Sam's, but just as addictive. He chuckled deeply at my eagerness, allowing me to wrap my hands around his arm to keep him close.

"It's okay darling. Drink up. I'm not going anywhere." He whispered low.

My blood raced at his words, a whimper falling from my lips. I could feel it again, the ache between my legs. But this time I didn't care. All I could think about was his blood, or his cock. And both were making me wet.

He pulled back suddenly, a 'pop' noise echoing off the fluorescent lighted walls from my mouth. "Y/N, while I would allow you to drink from me for forever, I gotta get back."

"I-I-I," I took a deep breath, getting my bearings again, "Yeah. That's, um, probably for the best."

"Are you okay? Do you need me to stay with you?" He questioned, looking me over.

"No. Go ahead. I'll be alright." I confirmed.

He pressed his forehead against mine sweetly, "Hey, I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner about the whole dream thing. How was it last night? Did you dream of Sam?"

I stepped back, blushing. "N-No. No, I didn't. I honestly can't remember my dream."

He beamed, "Well that's good. Maybe it will be the same tonight."

I nodded. "Hopefully."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

We were over a week into this arrangement and I felt like I was losing my mind.

Every day one of them was feeding on me, and every night I had a dirty dream about them. It didn't matter if I only had a sip of their blood or a lot. If their blood was in my system, I was dreaming about them fucking me senseless. And that's all I wanted. I couldn't even look at them without feeling like I wanted to rip their clothes off and beg them to fuck me.

It was embarrassing, tormenting, and made me feel insane. And also incredibly hot.

Luckily tonight was our first night off of the tour. We decided to all go out to eat and drink once it got late. Sam and Colby told me that they planned to find someone else to feed on, or possibly hit up a local blood bank, so I could rest easy tonight knowing they weren't going to feed on me.

God knows I needed the break...

Even though Sam and Colby's blood had been out of my system for a day, I still felt this overwhelming urge to fuck them. I couldn't deny that feeling this way left me confused beyond belief. Sure, they were good looking guys, and at times I had thought about kissing them or what it would be like to date them, but I never gave it more than a passing thought. But now all I could think about was them inside of me, taking me and doing what they wan-

No. No. No. Not tonight. Tonight I would relax, unwind, and drink.

And I did just that. I drank, and drank, and drank. The world felt a little off balance, a bit too spinny for my liking. I leaned against the wall of the bar, staring at the dance floor lights.

Sam sauntered over to me, "Heyyy, Y/N. You okay?"

"I'm Gucci, my dude," I snickered. I pointed at his drink, "Wait, vampires can get drunk?"

"Oh yeah. Especially since we didn't drink tonight." He admitted, then laughed. “Did you think we were acting all those times you saw us at parties plastered?”

"What really? I thought you guys planned to get some from..." I waved my hand around, "somewhere."

"We were, but it was a bust. Or our connection fell through." He shrugged it off, "But don't worry, we'll figure it out."

"I mean... you could always drink from me." I responded, ignoring the dull ache in my stomach.

He shook his head, "No, no. This is your night off. You deserve it. Don't worry about us."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you sure?"

"Of course, Y/N." He confirmed.

Colby stumbled over to us, saying something in Sam's ear. "Hey, we're gonna head back to the hotel. You ready to leave?"

"Actually... yeah. I think I've drank enough tonight." I giggled, walking through the crowd to the exit with Sam and Colby.

"Well, if you need to sober up a bit, our blood could help." Colby stated.

I huffed, "It's my night off."

"...From being drank from," Colby chuckled. "But if you want our blood, you can have some. Take your pick."

I glanced at the both of them, sighing. "How about we wait until we're back at the hotel, yeah? Then I'll figure that out."

The ride home was tense, or at least it was for me. I felt like both boys were looking at me, waiting for me to make my choice. My skin grew hot under their stare, the ache coming back again.

C'mon. This was supposed to be my one night off.

Entering the hotel, the boys locked arms with me gently, helping me to the elevator.

I smiled lazily, "You don't need to help me. I'm not that drunk."

"Really? You sure about that?" Sam smirked.

"Trust me." I mumbled, "I sobered up in the car."

“Well that's good. But you should still have some of our blood.” Colby persisted.

The elevator 'dinged' softly, the doors opening slowly. I walked down the hallway towards my room, the boys following right behind me. I pulled out my key card, swiping it and yanking open my door.

I whined, trying to pull my shoes off to no avail. "Remind me to never get drunk in heels again. It sucks." I flopped down on the bed, groaning into the cover.

"So, do you want us to leave? We can always do this in the morning." Sam asked.

I picked my head up, "No, it's okay. I'll be honest, I still haven't made a decision about who to drink from."

"Well take a second if you want to." Colby spoke.

"There's no need." I sat up, turning to them. "I don't want to do it out of order so... drink from me first."

He frowned. "What? No, it's your day off."

"It's fine, Colby. I know it is, but you guys didn't eat... drink, today." I assured him.

Colby looked over at Sam accusingly, and he shrugged. "I accidentally let it slip."

"You usually are a blabbermouth when you're drunk." I teased.

Colby shook his head, "We'll be fine."

"I mean... maybe we should drink, if she's okay with it." Sam argued lightly.

"I am okay with it. Plus, you'll just give me your blood anyway. So then we'll be even." I remarked.

Colby's expression softened, Sam's face matching his. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this if you don't want to."

"I totally don't mind, guys. Really." I insisted.

Colby paused for a minute, then nodded. "Okay, but we're only taking a little from you."

"That's fine by me." I stood up, swaying back and forth as my lightheadedness faded. The boys placed hands on my back, keeping me from falling.

Sam snorted, "Yeah, we're definitely only taking a little."

They gave each other a glance, Sam sliding towards me first. I gazed at him, snaking my eyes across his face, then tilted my head back.

His voice came out in a husky whisper, "Aren't you eager..."

I rolled my eyes, "Just do it before I change my-"

My breath hitched, Sam's fangs sinking deep into my skin. I grabbed his arms, bracing myself as he drank from me. He grunted lowly, his body firmly against mine.

I peered out of the corner of my eye, watching Colby watch us. He studied my face, taking in my expression. My eyes fluttered as Sam pulled away, stopping much sooner than he usually would.

"Fuck... I needed that." He wiped his mouth, making sure to lick the excess blood off his hand. My core throbbed at his actions. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. "Your turn, Colby."

He locked eyes with me, "You good?"

I stammered, "S-Sure. Go ahead."

"Let me know if it's too much, okay?" He uttered.

I nodded, moving my head to the other side and allowing him access. He lowered his mouth onto my neck, biting softly. I exhaled, my hands holding onto his arms. He took a few sips from me, then pulled back. "Wait, let me get a better angle."

I squinted at him, confused. He circled around, stopping behind me. His hands slithered to my hips, tugging me closer.

"Much better." He grunted, then sank his teeth into me hastily. I gasped, surprised by the force.

I looked up at Sam, his eyes gazing at us with a devilish glint. He cocked his head to the side, slinking over to us inch by inch. "I think you should take some of my blood now, Y/N. Before you get too light headed."

He bit into his wrist, placing it in front of me. "Drink up."

I leaned forward some, taking his blood into my mouth. I sighed, euphoria hitting me instantly. I had never had one of them drink from me while the other gave me blood. My mind was race, my heart pounding loudly against my chest. My body in flames from pleasure and pain. And I couldn't tell which one I liked more.

Sam's fangs dazzled in the light as he spoke, "Oh, Colby. We forgot to tell her something again."

Colby released his mouth from my neck, swallowing, "And what could that be Sam?"

Sam's eyes landed on mine, almost empty of feeling, "When you exchange blood like this with us... it makes you ours."

I furrowed my brow at him, keeping my mouth on his wound. My voice came out muffled, "Ours?"

"Yeah. Ours. See, we might have deceived you a little bit." Sam shrugged.

"Our bad." Colby snickered.

"He and I have been into you for a while, Y/N. But we knew you only ever saw us as a friend. Plus, we didn't want to have to fight over you so we thought the best course of action would be to just... make you both of ours." Sam grinned evilly, "And God, you made it so easy. Just following along without question."

Colby pressed his lips against my ear, keeping his voice deep and low. "With our blood running through your system, you will always be ours. You will be just as obsessed with us as we are with you."

My mind and body barely took their words in, the only thing I wanted was more of Sam's blood. My cunt pulsed as his blood invaded my system, my mind only thinking of him and all of the things I wanted him to do to me.

Sam yanked his wrist away, a desperate mewl escaping my mouth.

My mind was foggy, my head catching up to what I just heard. "W-W-What? Are you guys-?"

Colby spun me, pushing me back into Sam. He wrapped his arm around me tight, biting into my neck. Colby did the same to his wrist, placing my mouth on it. I grunted against him, glaring at him for a moment before all of my anger melted into pure bliss.

Colby's blood mixed with Sam's... and suddenly I wanted nothing more than for both of them to take me. God I could almost feel them inside of me, touching me in all the right spots.

"There you go, baby. Such a good girl for us." Colby smirked.

Sam pulled his mouth away, just to place it against the hollow of my ear, "Our good girl."

I could feel some of my mind come back to me for a split second. I hissed against Colby's wrist, "Fuck you."

He scoffed, "Sweetheart, you can say that all you want, but I know deep down you don't mean it. Well, you don't mean it in that way."

"Don't lie to us, baby girl." Sam sang angrily, latching his mouth back onto my bite.

"You know how we know that? I've heard you every night of this tour moan our names in your sleep. I've heard the way you whimper and cry and beg for us to fuck you when you touch yourself," Colby growled, his eyes intense as they bore into mine. "Don't deny it, Y/N.

Sam yanked back his mouth as Colby pulled his wrist away. I panted, keeping my distance from them and pressing myself against the desk. They stared me down, taking me in like prey.

My legs were shaking, my body tingling everywhere. I felt like I was on fire from the inside out. I had never been so wet in my entire life. I wanted to scream at them, to hate them, to tell them to leave. But everything in my head and body were begging them to stay; to touch me.

Sam stepped towards me, closing the gap between us, "You're ours, Y/N. Doesn't that sound amazing? To be shared by us?"

I couldn't help but nod my head. I wanted to deny it, but it wasn't true.

"No one else can have you like this. Only us." Sam whispered into my ear, turning my head gently to look at him. He leaned in and kissed me deeply, taking my breath away with the feverish kiss. My hand dug into his shirt, holding on it as his tongue tasted mine.

I was ripped away from his kiss as Colby pushed himself against me. He cupped my face, rolling my head towards him. "Only us," he stated. He pressed his lips to mine, his mouth and tongue tender against my own. I whined as I felt Sam begin to kiss my neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin. I could hear him murmur 'ours' over and over again.

Colby removed his mouth from mine, following Sam's lead in kissing and nipping at my neck and body. I was overwhelmed, my chest rising and falling rapidly. I squeezed my eyes shut, still feeling Sam and Colby snake up and down my body with their hands and mouths. A breathy groan escaped my lips, my mind unable to slow down. If they touched the right spot, I would completely come undone.

I needed them. I wanted them. I would do anything for them.

The sound of silence fell over the room. Then, a low ringing took over my hearing. Soon it grew louder and louder and louder. I popped my eyes open, gasping.

I was in my hotel room, and it was bright outside. The ringing was my alarm on my phone going off - 9:30 A.M.

I sat up, my head weighing a thousand pounds. I was in my clothes from the night before, but tucked comfortably into bed.

How the fuck did I get here? Where the hell were Sam and Colby?

It suddenly dawned on me - Oh my God, that was a dream?

There's no way. That felt too real. That can't be right.

I changed quickly, knowing that Sam and Colby would be waiting for me in the lobby so we could travel to the next venue. I never unpacked, so I threw my dirty clothes in my suitcase, and trudged out the door with everything I had brought.

I stumbled down to the lobby, finding Sam and Colby waiting off to the side for me with their luggage. Their assistant was talking to them, along with someone from Zumiez's team, about the upcoming meet and greet.

Colby beamed when he saw me, "Hey, we were wondering if you were gonna make it."

"What happened last night?" I glared.

Sam turned at the sound of my voice, "Do you not remember...?"

"Just tell me what happened. Please." I answered, short.

Colby inhaled, "Well, we planned to... continue drinking in your room. But once we got there, you flopped on your bed and passed out."

"We figured you were too tired after all the traveling and drinking that we just decided to call it a night." Sam added.

Colby commented, "I took your shoes off before tucking you in. I know you hate falling asleep with heels on."

"Oh." I vaguely remembered falling onto my bed. And my shoes were off when I woke up… "I could have sworn something else happened."

Colby gasped lowly, "Did you have a dream about us?"

I immediately blushed, "Um, you could say that."

"What was it about? Tell me." He pleaded.

"I don't think you want to know, to be honest. I squirmed under their gaze, doing my best to ignore the parts of the dream my body couldn't forget. "It was kind of all over the place. And you guys were a bit... mean, to say the least."

"Oh, shit. Well, sorry that my dream self was an asshole to you." Colby apologized.

Sam agreed, "Ditto."

I half smiled, exhaling. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Y/N. You're our..." Sam smiled, "best friend. We would never be mean to you."

"Unless you want us to be, of course." Colby taunted, a mischievous look in his eye.

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fairlyang · 10 months ago

Text

Rookie I 🕷️

in which you find someone unexpected at your new job

w/c: 4.3K

pairing: miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. glory hole, sex work (positive), anonymity, oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, cum, post nut clarity, he doesn't know it's you... or does he?

part two ~ part three

Being a part of the spider society had its perks, you could connect with so many people just like you, make new friends, save people, be overall helpful.

Now to the downsides, if you were there full time it was very hard to get your normal life in order. For you it was hard being straight outta college and trying to find the place where you belonged while still trying to protect your own city.

And you also quickly realized how hard it was to find a normal job then once you did get one, how hard it was to be at multiple places at once. It was an overwhelming feeling wanting to protect your own city and helping the multiverse. And also trying to live a normal life and work a 9-5.

It felt impossible, and it was. So you decided on living in Earth-928, closer to the Spider Society where you were needed most and you could go back to your earth with the click of a button.

You kind of gave up on normality, less of a social life, no more work until you realized you desperately needed money to pay your bills and rent. And the money you had saved up wasn't going to last for too long.

And being a spider person doesn't exactly pay like you'd automatically assume.

So you went out looking for anything that could earn you a lot but by not doing too much. One day you stumbled across what looked to be a run down bar. Maybe strip club.

You went inside and soon enough found out what it was with just a simple look.

A brothel, a place where sex workers offer their services. This wasn't ideal at all, and you didn't want to show your face afraid any of the spiders you knew would somehow find you here. But it was good money, incredible money.

And who could possibly be so horny and desperate for attention?

...

That would recognize you...

…

Maybe not too many..

…

Hopefully.

So you asked around and found out they had a couple of glory holes inside. A girl a couple years older than you showed you around and showed you where they had everything set up as well as explained how everything worked.

Now this you could work with. There were holes all over the walls but not just for men to stick their dicks into but for girls to be fucked. Or ate out.

It was a very interesting setup, there were three doors and the girl opened up the middle one to show a girl on her knees sucking one dick and using her hands to jerk another off. She let go of the one she was jerking off to gave you a small wave then slipped the one out of her mouth to give you a smile while drool dripped down her chin down to her tits.

It was absolutely insane and way beyond your comfort zone but it was perfect. Almost too perfect...

After signing some contracts and having a talk about safety, condoms, and testing, you were good to go and ended up getting scheduled to work the very next night.

Demon hours, of course.

So after a long day of patrolling your city for a few hours then getting called in by Miguel to go on a few missions with him and Jess, then finally finishing those missions and successfully capturing the anomalies, it was time for you to go to your new job.

You were a nervous wreck as you swung to your apartment but also couldn't deny the excitement arising as you were getting closer.

You entered through the fire escape and quickly open your bedroom window, slip in. You grab the bag you had prepared and sling it across your body.

You slip out of your window and swing out, heading straight to the brothel. It luckily wasn't too far from your apartment, given you were swinging there but even then it'd take a few minutes by car but this was more convenient.

You land on top of the building, it being vacant so you had the bright idea of hiding behind some poles and taking off your suit.

You first take off your mask and unzip your bag, quickly stuffing it in. Then you take off your watch and carefully put it in a side pocket then start removing your suit as fast as you could.

You were now in undergarments out in the open but it was twelve, almost one in the morning, and the only people awake would be the people in the building beneath you.

You grab the baby pink shirt you had packed and put it on. Then reaching down for the black skirt and slip it on before fixing up both pieces of clothing.

You zip up your bag then sling it around your shoulder, you walk to the edge of the roof and look down at the alley making sure it was completely empty.

Once you took notice of every angle being vacant you drop down and shoot a web at a wall as you neared the floor. You let your feet drop to the floor and find a corner thats filled with a bunch of trash bags and hide your bag underneath them. First shooting a few webs at the bag to ensure no one will be able to get it then throwing the trash bags all over it.

Maybe not the brightest idea but it was a fucked up place in the city, as if anyone is gonna try to get into it. They’ll get grossed out by the webs and their curiosity will disappear.

You walked out of the alley and headed straight to the front door. You see a small group of men walk out together, laughing and a few fixing their pants when they see you walk past them and go straight inside.

You could practically feel the stares and it brought more excitement in then anxiety. Good sign.

You walked over to where you were meant to sign in when an older lady that was sitting in a booth looks you up and down before nodding, "name?"

You furrow your brows in confusion thinking you could just be anonymous since you weren't planning to do one on one services yet, where they would probably need your name.

"Any name sweetheart, doesn't have to be ya own." She says and you nod.

Any name.

You think hard for a few seconds when you look at a painting of some roses behind her as well as a small statue of some angel wings and it clicks.

Perfect.

"Rose Angel." You say and nod.

She laughs and shakes her head, "that's a good one, sure will get their attention."

You smile as she hands you the sign in sheet and you quickly sign before she motions for you to go in. "Good luck Rosie." She says handing you a masquerade mask then gives you sly wink which makes you crack up a smile as you put the mask on.

Maybe it won't be too bad.

You walk the long hallway that was dimly light and had chipped paint on the walls when you were now able to hear loud moans.

From a man at first then cries from a woman.

You couldn't even deny the fact that it was all now starting to really turn you on. Especially when you turned a specific corner and you walked in on the incredible sight of the first set of glory holes.

There was a girl with her ass stuck out while the upper half was in the hole with one man fucking her from behind while two others were watching, stroking themselves. And with a picture of the girl's face right above her body.

You looked straight ahead and watched as a girls legs were hanging out with a man sitting between them, eating her out. It looked like she was laying down on some kind of platform which made sense so she wouldn't hurt herself.

There was another girl in that same position but she was being fingered with three men watching and impatiently waiting their turn.

To your right was the hottest scene you've laid your eyes on, three women with their legs tied up above them as they laid on their backs and all of them had men fucking them.

One man in specific fucking one petite girl hard and fast it almost made you feel a little jealous. But also was really turning you on. It was such a hot sight and her moans were so loud and pretty.

Suddenly one of the other guys goes faster on another girl with brown skin, she was crying out as her legs began trembling instantly. Holy shit.

You squeezed your thighs together as you watched and kept switching back and forth between what to watch before realizing you were suppose to be working.

You shook your head and walked off and headed to where you were meant to be at. You went past another section with more glory holes until you finally made it to the one you were assigned to.

You walked in seeing men standing by the holes, a few thrusting their hips against the wall which made you think that their dick had to be pretty long to even do that.

You open the employees only door to the side of the entrance of that room and walk in, closing it as quietly as you could. You walk the slim little hallway and turn to the right and walking past the other girl's doors.

You count down to five, your designated door being the last of the right wall, as soon as you enter the room. You open the door and walk inside, closing the door behind you.

It was a decent size, enough for you to stretch your legs, walk around a bit. And then right in the middle of the small space was the glory hole. Below it was a rug to protect your knees from hurting so much.

You sigh and take a few steps forward before going down on your knees and sit down on the surprisingly soft rug. You sit a bit far back from the hole, since no one has stuck their dick into it yet and to start mentally preparing yourself.

But there wasn't time for that anymore as a man slid his dick into the hole before you could take a breather. Oh well.

You sit up and move up to the hole, it being almost perfectly to where your mouth is. You take the already hard cock into your hands and spit on it then start to slowly stroke it.

It wasn't too big just thick and at least looked clean. That's the least you could ask for and you prayed they were all like this.

You start stroking him faster and you were clearly able to hear his grunts through the wall. You didn't want to admit you were turned on by it but that small wet patch on your panties is loud and clear about it.

Suddenly he's groaning and his cock starts twitching, already? You shrugged and opened your mouth, slowly taking him down your throat.

An easy task to do considering he was a decent size which wasn't a complaint because you definitely could get someone with a huge dick, then you’d be in trouble.

Your thoughts are cut short when you feel his load go down your throat. You pull away and open your mouth letting the last of his cum fall on to your tongue.

He groans one final time before pulling away and walking away.

And just like that one down.

How hard could this be?

And that very question was quickly answered when another cock slides in but it was very noticeably much longer than the one you just had. You gulped and took it into your hands, leaning in to lick the tip at first then spitting on it, making sure it drips down until you start stroking it.

The man moans and it makes your cheeks turn to a bright red. This whole thing just felt so hot. Giving someone a blowjob and not knowing who they are? And very clearly able to hear how good you make them feel?

Maybe this job wouldn't be so hard.

You waste no more time and immediately put him in your mouth and start taking as much of him as you could. You were able to take about half down your throat while you stroked his base earning yourself moans and grunts from this man.

They actually sounded pretty good and you didn't mind a vocal man. Well you actually preferred it but you didn't think it'd necessarily come into play here. But you were learning fast and may have slowly realized how much you actually like giving pleasure and not just receiving it.

He thrusted his hips into the wall which must've hurt from the bang above your head, but you just continued on until you felt the saltiness of his cum. You almost gagged but fought through it and just swallowed it like a champ.

He pulled away, his cock leaving your mouth with a plop before a new guy quickly slid his dick in. This one being almost the same as the first so you do the exact same process.

You quickly learn that men who have smaller dicks might cum faster, longer they are they last longer, but thicker lasts the longest and needs more from you.

A good hour has passed, plenty of cum was swallowed and you were beyond soaked. It was easily the hottest thing ever and it was starting to feel like torture that you couldn't let these men fuck you.

At least not yet, they needed those test results first but you knew you were clean, it's been a while...

But you were thinking of your favorite one you sucked on as you were sucking on another, a big black cock. It was abnormally long while also being thick and it took you a few seconds before realizing you had to work on it because you were just gawking at it as well as thinking of how it would've absolutely destroyed you but probably feel incredible as well.

Just thinking about it was making you wet again when the one that was in your mouth had already came. You pulled back, slapping the tip on your tongue as the rest of the cum came out. The man moaned and thrusted his hips forward before hitting himself hard, making you quickly cover your mouth from laughing.

"Be careful!" You say then bite your lip to not accidentally laugh.

He pulled away embarrassed and mumbled something you don't hear when you hear multiple voices walk into the room and you hear feet shuffling by your hole.

You wipe your mouth and suck off any remnants of cum before the voices come closer. Maybe to the middle of the room? "Who do you have for me today Lola?" A man asks and you furrow your brows in confusion.

Lola? As in the girl who showed you around yesterday?

You shrugged and sat down comfortably before you hear some giggles approaching you. Oh god.

Was this some kind of big shot or something? He got his own personal girl to advise him who should suck him off?

"Well here we have our new rookie! It's her first night with us and she hasn't had any complaints!" Lola's bubbly voice is heard right outside your hole and you could almost feel your heart drop.

Great, recommend the new girl to some rich man whose probably had all kinds of different girls suck him off. Surely this will go well...

"If anything she's been the rave of the night! As you saw she had a bit of a line going." She says and you almost gasp but quickly clamp your hand over your mouth. A line?

"Oh really?" The man asks and you can't make it out but he sounds kind of familiar?

"Mhm! Seems our rookie sure knows what she's doing." She says and giggles.

Your cheeks turn a bright red and you felt a shiver go down your spine. Was this praise? It felt like praise.

"Then I think I've gotta see for myself.." he says and you were slightly able to see him undoing his belt.

You quickly sat up for some reason feeling even more excited. Maybe he'll give a big tip.

"Have fun! And I'll see you when you're done." She says softly, her heels clicking away.

He pulls his pants down and slides his dick in which almost made your eyes fall out of their sockets. There were times you weren't attracted to dicks, but this wasn't one of those times. Quite the opposite actually.

This dick, with its pink tip (already leaking precum) and long, thick tanned shaft, was perfect. Beyond perfect, it was mesmerizing.

Already so hard and it twitched which had you notice one long vein that went down the whole thing.

You licked your lips and grabbed it gently before licking off the precum and kissing the tip. This one's gotta be extra special.

You spit on the tip and watch as it slowly drips down until it reached the bottom. You started stroking it with two hands, and go at a fast pace not wanting to tease this man anymore than he needs to be teased.

You open your mouth and slide him in, eyes wide realizing he's bigger than expected but you still tried your hardest to take all of him in.

He thrusted his hips which made you gag as he hit the back of your throat in seconds but you don't pull away.

You then breathed in through your nose and took even more of him in, earning yourself moans from the mystery man which unsurprisingly made you more wet.

You moved your head back and forth and stroked the base because you couldn't just gag on it all night but you could take about half of him into your mouth and still be able to breathe properly.

He let out strings of moans and grunts each time you were successfully able to take most of him down your throat which felt so rewarding. His moans were like your motivation to do good, to take all of him and to have him moan out even more for you.

You let your right hand go and continue stroking what's left of him while taking him in your throat meanwhile you slip your right hand down your thighs and rub yourself through your panties.

You couldn't help yourself and frankly how could you even be blamed? With a cock this perfect and moans just as perfect what were you suppose to do? Sit there and only use your mouth like you had been for the past hour? Fuck no.

This one was different.

You rubbed your clit slowly but then decide against it and go at the same pace as you were sucking on his cock. You moaned against him which made him groan and twitch in your mouth but it didn't seem like he was close.

You moved your panties to the side and spread your legs wider while you slip your finger in to feel how wet you were.

Wet was an understatement.

Drenched was more correct.

You took him out of your mouth and softly lick his tip while you felt your wetness coat your fingers without even trying. You straighten up and bring him back into your mouth, sliding down all the way until you can feel the wall on the tip of your nose.

He then started to slowly thrust, he pulled away until only his tip was in your mouth then he thrusted back in to the back of your throat making you gag.

You slid two fingers in to your desperate hole and moan against him again. This time instead of groaning he spoke, "fuck- that's such a dirty fucking girl."

You clenched against your fingers and you couldn't help the warmth that grew on your cheeks as soon as he finished his sentence. You let him thrust into your mouth until you slowly realized maybe he wanted to fuck your mouth, maybe wanted consent?

You pulled away and let his tip slap your tongue a bit before you cleared your throat, asking in a raspy voice, "do you wanna fuck my mouth?"

He chuckled and you can only presume he might've nodded when he laughs, "yes angel, I'd love to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours."

You bit your lip and felt yourself clench against your fingers yet again. You felt butterflies in your tummy but you just assumed maybe it was your incoming orgasm. You had been practically teased an hour long and it was only reasonable your poor cunt would cum so easily.

He then pulls his cock away which made you frown until he whistled then said, "bring your face closer to me angel."

You did as you were told and luckily your whole face wouldn't be exposed, only your lips and chin.

He brought a hand down to the hole and gently caressed your cheek, which made you subconsciously melt into his touch.

He then moved his fingers to rub gently against your bottom lip, almost toying with it. "Open." He says softly and you do, which he then sticks his thumb into your mouth.

You do as you'd assume he'd want you to do and suck. But he then pulls his hand away and hums. He then stands up right and his cock is back into view making you pump your fingers deeper, if only he were fucking you.

His cock is then inside your mouth slowly thrusting, testing out the waters before he starts going faster. You brought your hand down to your side as you fucked yourself faster but still wanting more so you added a third finger now feeling more pleasure.

He hits the back of your throat with every thrust and letting out the most delicious of moans which made your want for him grow even more.

You felt your orgasm grow in your lower belly as he continued fucking your face at a fast pace while you were practically dripping on the poor rug.

"Oh fuck baby-" he moans and you close your eyes, fucking yourself harder that he could definitely hear the noises of your poor needy cunt.

"So fucking good angel- such a perfect mouth." He moans out and you felt him twitching a lot which had you feeling giddy.

You moaned against him and squeezed your thighs together as your orgasm hit you like a pile of bricks, you stopped fucking yourself and felt your entire body tremble when you felt him shoot his load down your throat. You happily let him making sure to swallow every drop when he slowly pulls away and you lean your forehead against the wall. Wow-

You hear the clack of heels and you can only assume that Lola was back.

"So how was she?" She asks and you suddenly are awake, focused, and ready to hear his opinion.

You control your breathing but still feel your heart beat as you awaited his answer while you hear the sound of him zipping up his pants. "Absolutely fucking perfect. The best I've had in a long while."

You bite your lip from wanting to scream and just cheer inside your head. Fuck yes- you fucking did that shit and are going to get paid soooo well-

"But I think she needs to be in one of the first rooms..." he says and your heart starts racing again.

The first rooms...

He wants to fuck you.

He wants you to be in one of the first rooms, to fuck you, specifically you.

"I'm sure you can convince her to switch rooms Miguel." She says cheerily and your heart drops at the last word.

Miguel?

Miguel-

Miguel.

Suddenly it clicks in your mind and you back up from the hole and sit at the last part of the rug in pure shock and horror.

There was no fucking way-

This whole time-

You were-

He was-

You just sucked off your boss-

AND he wanted to fuck you???

There was no way he knew- he couldn't have- he shouldn't know-

How could this be the man you were working alongside just a few hours ago? The man you've grown to annoy and somehow convince you weren't that bad? The man who was as stern as could be and get mad at any tiny little inconvenience?

Dread hit you.

How could you face him tomorrow?? How the hell were you going to work with him from here on out???

And why did he of all people have to have such a big dick? Who knew saying someone had big dick energy somehow would manifest into itself.

Of all the times you joked around with Jess saying "I'd drop down to my knees if he asked." Or even "that man is hung, girthy and would fill someone up to perfection"

and now you've seen it.

had it in your mouth.

he fucking came down your throat-

Do you have to expose yourself now? It didn't feel right that you just provided him a service but you knew who he was...

How you didn't figure it out before, who knows. Maybe all that cock got into your head and you magically forgot who that voice belonged to...

And so long your spidey sense. Surely that should’ve helped in some way.

You fucked yourself to your boss's moans- this was humiliating as can be but literally no one else knew, there was no way he knew.. unless he does?

You'd have to find out tomorrow at work and see if he says anything because you sure as hell weren't.

He was one annoying piece of shit but at least he gave you a good orgasm out that entire fiasco.

part two

#Miguel O’Hara #miguel ohara x reader #Miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #rookie

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