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felice-jaganshi · 3 months ago

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Strawberry Scented Love

Radiodust Strawberry Pimp AU

Chapter 9 - The Horny One

(ADULTS ONLY!)

There was one more week before Alastor returned to his post, except this time, Angel disappeared with him. A note was left behind for everyone to take a paid vacation, and they'd be back with an explanation next Sunday.

~Wednesday, three days into the elopement~

A beautiful suit and wedding dress lay on the floor of a home in Hell's bayous. Alastor's vacation home, the closest he could get to Louisiana in Hell.

Alastor pressed Angel into the mattress gently, “Mon amour… I must confess something to you before we begin.” Wedding rings now adorned both of their left hands.

Angel chuckled, putting a hand on the back of Alastor's neck, “If it's that ya don't have much experience in this field, don't worry. I know. I'm not expecting something that'll rearrange my whole world or anything crazy. Just as long as it's you, loving me the way you do, I'll enjoy it. Promise.”

Alastor's smile turned warm. “Thank you, Beloved… you are truly too good for me. But that wasn't what I was going to confess. I… was going to confess that my Shadow would like to join us, if you'll allow him? If that's something you would enjoy of course. I cannot guarantee I'll last long enough to actually satisfy you, but my Shadow being more of a construct than a person, can go for as long as you need.” Said Shadow appeared beside the bed with a nervous smile and its ears drooping, head tilted to the side, looking as cute as possible.

Angel blushed and grinned, shock quickly turning into excitement, “O-oh! Oh hell yeah baby, he's part of you, right? And I signed up for the whole package. Till double death do us part.” Alastor grinned and kissed Angel gently. Alastor kissed back, bleating as he did.

“Thank you, Beloved… this means more to me than you know.”

“Oh I think I have an idea…” Angel smirked and trailed a finger down Al's spine to his flickering tail.

“You're lucky it's your first time, so I'm gonna play nice and let you be in control. But next time, I'm gonna rock your world so hard you'll forget your own name.” He gently grabbed hold of the tail, and Alastor flinched, face going red.

“I- I'm certain there's quite a few things you could teach me about this sort of thing, my love.”

“Yeah there is, but don't worry about that tonight. I already got myself ready for you earlier, so we can just focus on enjoying each other tonight without any issues or major hang ups.”

Alastor took a deep breath of relief at that, “So thoughtful my dear, thank you.”

Angel then reached for a bottle of lube he had hidden under the pillow earlier that day. “We'll still need to get you ready, mind if I do the honors?”

Alastor looked at the bottle nervously, before nodding his head. “Yes, please. I'm still not thrilled about how wet and sticky this whole process is going to be, though I know ‘wetness’ is a necessary component for it to be pleasant for both of us. I'll get over it with time, I'm sure.” He was determined to. Angel was worth it.

“Al, you know you don't gotta force yourself ta do this, right?” He put a hand on Alastor's cheek. “Smiles, if this ain't ya cuppa tea, we can talk about it. Find some other compromise that makes us both happy.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into the gentle affection, “I know, Beloved. But I want to at least try it before completely ruling it out as an impossibility. Call me stubborn if you must, but I need to know if I can make love with you the way you deserve.” He then turned his face to kiss Angel's palm, taking hold of the back of his hand as he kissed his wrist next, slowly working his way down to his shoulder, across his clavicle, and right over his heart, before nuzzling into the fluff there. “Hm, so soft… just how do you do it?”

“Believe it or not, tuna oil pills. They taste nasty, but they make my fur soft and shiny. So it's worth it.” Angel closed his eyes and pet the back of Al's head with his free hand, gently running his nails against his scalp. Al hummed before returning to kissing his way down Angel's body, stopping when he reached his panties and the noticeable bulge in them.

“You must be uncomfortable being restrained so, Darling. Mind if I remove these for you?” He asked it so sweetly, Angel was torn between being turned on, and finding it cute.

“Go for it, stud. I've got nothing to hide from my husband.” He smiled.

Alastor then moved one hand down to the back of Angel's knee, “Then what about these stockings, Love? I admit they look absolutely stunning on you, but I couldn't help noticing your reluctance to take them off.”

“J-just think it looks sexier is all.” Angel blushed and looked away. He was lying, and Alastor wasn't having it.

“Angel. Mon petit ange.” His tone was slightly stern, turning Angel's chin to look at him, “You know there isn't a single thing about you I could ever hate, correct? That I will love every part of you, without reservation or hesitation if you will let me, yes?” He held Angel's gaze, determined to make him believe his words.

“I… I just don't like the way my feet look. They're weird and deformed. Ugly.”

Alastor sighed and sat upright, “Angel, you see all my scars, yes? I find them repulsive, but you said a moment ago, when you were disrobing me, that you find them sexy. That they make me look powerful… I do not believe your feet could possibly be so ‘disfigured’ as to make me see you as anything less than the beautiful man I chose to marry.”

Angel covered his own face with his hands, “Fine… if you're that curious, go ahead. I won't stop ya.”

Alastor pressed a kiss to Angel's thigh, “thank you, darling.” He slowly pulled down one stocking, kissing the skin as he revealed it till he got to Angel's ankle. He then sat back as he removed the last of it and looked at his foot. Two little pink paw pads with black claws at the end. He reached a hand out and took one of the pads in his hand. Angel flinched, and peeked through his fingers at Alastor's face. He gently massaged the paw pad.

“Hm, they don't seem disfigured at all, dear. Who told you they were? These are simply what spider feet look like. There's nothing strange about it at all.” He sounded so calm, and decided to start giving Angel a genuine massage, even rubbing his ankle and calf with his other hand to further relax him. “So tense as well, and from all the dancing you do, that only makes sense. Goodness, I need to take better care of my little star. I'd hate for you to pull a muscle or get a cramp on stage.” He was clearly enjoying himself. But not in the fetish way Angel was used to… It was just that he genuinely found joy in caring for his beloved.

“Fuck, Al, that feels great and all, but you're getting distracted… Please, can we get back to you fucking me? Or I'm gonna die of blue balls before the night is over.”

Al grumbled, nose scrunching up, “I don't like that phrasing. It makes this sound… basic and filthy. When this is far more important than what you do for work.”

“ DID for work. I'm not fucking anyone but you now. You put the ring on my finger, now I'm your problem, exclusively.”

Alastor's expression relaxed at that, and he took off the other stocking. “I wouldn't want it any other way.”

He kissed the ankle of that leg, and slowly worked his way back up to Angel's inner thigh, stopping right at the edge of the panties he still hadn't removed, making Angel whine in both pleasure and frustration. “Please, Al…” He was begging now, and it made Alastor feel like his blood was on fire.

He pulled down the panties, revealing Angel's long and narrow cock. It was smooth, and tapered. A similar shape to his own tentacles, actually. Which was rather a relief for Alastor. Since it didn't look like what he expected a dick to look like, he was less put off by the idea of touching it. He reached out, and took the dark pink appendage in hand, stroking it slowly. It felt nice in his hand actually, soft yet firm, smooth but not wet… yet. The tip was already starting to leak, and Angel was moaning softly.

“Mph, Al, that's so nice. You're doing great sweetheart.” The praise made his heart flutter, and he felt more confident. He was doing good? He was making his beloved feel good?

He let curiosity get the better of him, and swiped a little of that wetness from the tip onto a finger, and brought it to his mouth, wanting to see what he tasted like…

Angel blushed at the sight, “Damn, that's hot, Smiles…”

Alastor scrunched his nose again, “Definitely not a flavor for me, however.”

Angel chuckled, “Yeah, it's not for everyone. That's okay.” He reached his lower arms out to rub Alastor's ears, “But I'm proud of you for trying new things. My brave deer~.” His tone was flirty.

Alastor kissed Angel's hip, “I'm only brave because you make me so.” He sat back on his knees again, and slowly lowered his own boxers away, letting Angel get a good view of what his partner was working with.

“Damn, Smiles… You got all that, just for little old me? My jaws aching just thinking about taking all that in. Next time for sure, you gotta let me suck you off.”

Alastor blushed as he tossed away his underwear, “Must you say such vulgar things?”

“Well, judging by the way your big guy just got harder, I'm gonna say you actually like that idea.” He then reached a hand out to Alastor's hip, making the shorter demon jump a little from the contact. “Shh, hey, it's okay… We're goin’ slow. I got you, I won't let you have a bad time, okay? Trust me.”

Alastor swallowed around the lump in his throat as he resumed his position over Angel, “Apologies for my skittish nature.. I trust you, and while I do enjoy your touch, I'm just not accustomed to anyone touching that area.”

“Hey, you don't gotta explain it to me, I get it. Can I touch you? I really want to, you look so pretty.” Alastor nodded, keeping his eyes focused on Angel's face, as the spider slowly moved his hand across Al's hip to the base of his cock. “That's it, there's my good boy. Just trust me, I got you.” Angel kept whispering soft praise as he slowly jerked him off.

Alastor whined, and bucked his hips into Angel's hand, “H-hah, Ange, darling!”

Angel smiled at how soft Al's expression became as he started to let go and relax into Angel's touch. He sat up enough to kiss his neck, “You're doing good, big boss~. Now, I'm gonna lube you up okay? It's gonna be wet, but I promise it'll make this feel even better.”

Angel thought back to a previous incident months ago…

~~~~~~~

One of their performers, one that had been trying desperately to get Alastor's attention and be called ‘Darling’, had insisted they both watch his newest performance and tell him where he could improve. He was trying for a “comedy skit” style performance to make their audience laugh in between the bigger numbers. To “reset the mood”.

Well, due to a miscalculation in how much lube being dumped on him would be funny and how much would be just a mess… Some of it ended up splashing onto Alastor's face in the front row. The level of immediate panic the radio demon flew into was insane! It was like a cat getting dunked in a flea bath!

The performer was sworn to silence after that. Never to say a word of the incident, and Alastor refused to bear witness to any more of his comedy skits.

The only explanation Angel got from him was that he couldn't stand things that were wet and sticky, and it got worse when the “wetness” didn't go away fast enough when he was done with it. It was also why he preferred showers over baths. He at least had a sense of control then.

~~~~~~~

Alastor pressed his forehead into Angel's chest fluff again, “I trust you.” He hid his face in the fluff, as Angel slicked up his member. Alastor gave a conflicted whine, both enjoying and hating the feeling.

“Easy, easy… you're safe, you're fine… it's just me and my hand…” Angel soothed him through his discomfort, waiting for Alastor to adjust enough for the next part. “Just let me know when you're ready for more.

He shook his head, “L-let's just get to it. The longer you touch me, the closer I'm getting to my limit, Love.” He rose from the comfort of the fluff to look into Angel's eyes. Al looked so desperate already.

“Alright, alright. Not a problem. Here we go, let's get you lined up then.” Angel moved a pillow under his own hips to raise himself up a bit, then helped Alastor get the right angle to start sliding in. “Don't worry about being gentle, babe, I can handle anything you throw at me.”

Alastor pressed inside with a groan, stopping halfway, “I- I want to be gentle with you… I want to love you, my darling. Not hurt you.” He then started rocking his hips, slowly working himself deeper into Angel. Angel closed his eyes and shivered, it had been a long time since anyone had fucked him like this. It was a whole different experience from the usual rough treatment, and good god how was he going to survive this bliss?!

Alastor huffed hot breath against Angel's neck, arms shaking as he gently made love to Angel.

Angel ran his hands along Alastor's back, “God Al, you're so good to me. Please, just a bit more, a little faster~ I'm begging here! I need you!” His pleas were answered when Alastor picked up the pace, moving his hips more firmly against Angel's.

“L-like this? Mon cherie?”

“Yeah, just like that baby, fuck.” He held Al tighter. “So good babe, don't stop.”

Unfortunately, it wasn't much longer until Alastor started to lose it, and came, filling Angel with his hot spend. Angel groaned in frustration, and Al held him tight, shaking and crying, “A-ange… I- I'm sorry I-”

Angel pet his head, “Hey, you did great sweetheart. Don't apologize. You lasted longer than I expected for your first time. God damn, you got me so close! I didn't even think about touching myself, you were doing so good. We just gotta work on your stamina.” He smiled and lifted Alastor's head to kiss him sweetly. “I love you, you did good, so don't cry.”

Alastor slipped out of him and groaned, laying beside Angel. “Shadow, it's your turn.” He covered his face with an arm as he tried to regain his composure.

Angel blinked in confusion for a moment, having completely forgotten about the shadow! Suddenly his vision was full of a misty silhouette of his husband, with a green grin. “O-oh, h-hey there. What do you have in store for me?” He gave a sultry smile to try and hide his nerves. The shadows purred, befor kissing him passionately and running his hands over Angel's body.

The shadows touch was surprisingly warm, and if Angel shut his eyes, it felt just like Alastor. He wrapped his arms around Shadow, who had more give to his form than the real Alastor, but that didn't bother him.

He felt the shadows length press against his own, rocking them together, and pulled away from the kiss to breath. “F-fuck, Al! Please, just put it in! I need it!” Angel was desperate, that kiss was so intense. He looked at the real Al next to him, who was laying on his side smiling at Angel, “You're so beautiful when you're enjoying yourself, my darling.”

“Why's his tongue so long?” Damn, he could- ha!” He lost his breath as the Shadow pressed inside him and resumed the pace Alastor had been giving him earlier. Angel lost his ability to speak, just focusing on the pleasure he was being given.

Alastor ran a hand through Angel's chest fluff, “Tell me darling, is there anything else you need?”

“Just, touch my dick and I'm so done.”

“Hm, perhaps I can do one better.” The Shadow contorted out of Angel's arm, becoming more smoke than solid in the middle, before its mouth was sucking Angel off. The real Alastor leaned over Angel to give him something to hold onto as he nearly screamed in pleasure. Al kissed Angel's neck over and over. “Come for me love, let me see you unravel at my touch.”

With a final shout, Angel came down the shadows throat, which was greedily swallowed up with a purr. He worked Angel through it and slowly worked him down from his high before pulling out. The Shadow kissed his cheek once before vanishing and leaving the two alone.

“How was that, mon amour?” Alastor asked.

“Amazing. Al, that was the best damn orgasm of my life!”

That actually made Alastor look surprised, “Truly? You're not just saying that?”

“Al, I mean it. I'm not gonna lie to you about this.”

“I see, well good. I'm glad I was able to satisfy you, as a good husband should.” He blushed a bit, looking bashful with his smile.

“This is gonna be the best honeymoon anyone has ever had.” Angel giggled, and dragged Al in for another kiss.

#hazbin hotel #strawberry pimp alastor #angel dust #alastor #radiodust

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zorkaya-moved · 8 months ago

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"My fellow ball and chain, has Diamond decided to grant me the privilege of protection? What an hon-or~ I'll be sure to cherish it well."

Aventurine chuckles, twirling a coin between his fingers deftly. The irony isn't lost on him. To be sent to protect someone who's life was never fated to linger long. Perhaps it was a reminder of his place, that he wasn't even allowed the right to choose to die. Not without the IPC's watchful gaze burned onto his skin.

Such things had long become the norm. There was not much that could surprise the Stoneheart anymore.

At the very least, he could have his thrill. Turning nickel into gold.

The sound a coin being flipped in the air rings throughout the spacious room, the gambler catching it with a lack-a-daisical grin.

"So, what will it be? Heads, or tails?"

@celestial-narwhal

Diamond wishes to find one who can use the weapon correctly, the loyalty tested and the Emanator of Origin satisfied. The curse of the Apostle hangs over the head of Diamond, allowing the beast to lurk within the Stonehearts' ranks, protecting them from... From what? Ah, but is it ruly protection when there will be an order coming from the higher gemstone, telling the Stoneheart to end the life of their own bodyguard. It does not seem like Aventurine has received that order yet, it sounds more sadistic now. When will the order be issued? There are countless possibilities, Diamond wishes to use the blood of the silverette as a way to prove sincerity behind Stonehearts' loyalty. Or is it a simple torture? Attempt to find how each person will attempt to kill her, to end her, to bring her close but not enough to [salvation].

It should be considered a joke, the way her face is too pretty to be one of a bodyguard. The golden eyes, the fluffy white eyelashes, the lips colored in the prettiest shade of red, her silver hair - long and wavy - is in a high ponytail as the black suit covers her whole body but does not hide the curves and the beauty that may be hiding beneath. It's a lie, but it's such a beautiful lie. Some of the Stonehearts called her a joke, feeling insulted at the prospect of being protected by someone who seemed more like a beauty than the beast. But it does not matter, she only studies her current [liege] (toy) that Diamond allowed her to play with.

But this one... Oh, he is different. He and Topaz were unique on their own. She wants to play with this one for a bit longer. And yet, the play includes her keeping the controlled and calm appearance. She is an actor, she must put on the perfect mask to hide away the millennia of indulgence, gamble, and survival. She was once an empress, a saint, a sinner, a witch, a [Herrscher] (Sovereign). She is not a human, the Apostle of Origin hides within the lower ranks to learn how each person may use power presented to them. So how will this man spill the blood of a sacrificial beast? Or will he not be asked to end her life? Diamond might have grown tired of those attempts.

Aventurine is a man of class, she can see it, but she also knows the eyes of a survivor when she meets them. She taught countless young men and women who survived tragedies, broken by the cruelty of the world and repressed by authorities. Then again, he is still his own person, but she knows all too well how his type acts and how this indulgence in adrenaline rushes will act up in their exchange. This job will finally be interesting, she thinks to herself, as her eyes watch the coin in his hands. What deft fingers, she hopes he won't use them to wrap around her neck. She won't let any fingers reach for her neck. A knife will do, but nothing wrapped.

Her expression is one of impassiveness, but it only makes her look more beautiful. An ice-cold maiden clad in black and white, monochrome tones bring attention to the ichor in her eyes and to the red of her lips. It's all perfectly captured, but she remains immoving with her hands hidden behind her back.

Do you truly want an answer, child of man? Don't you seek salvation? Wil diamond shackles ask you to baptize yourself in the blood of a saintly sinner like myself? I wonder.

She will play the antithesis to his character. Time will tell when she will need to show more of her fangs for the sake of fun. Amusement is flourishing in her chest but she remains emotionless, calm and collected. The picture of professionalism. If only he knew what was going inside her head.

"As my liege, you should not concern yourself with my opinion," she tells him calmly, looking up from his hands to his face. He is handsome, she will give him that. Any and all expressions he can show her will be worth it, worth this engagement. She wants to have fun before the clocks tick and before the script of Destiny's Slave will ask for her to step forward on the path of Akivili. But right now, Aventurine is the one who has this fake leash that Diamond has given him without any explanations. How cruel of Diamond, but how expected of IPC. She finds Aventurine's situation a disgusting showcase of human nature, the one she witnessed before. He is a person, so she wants to know what a [person] behind this title will do with the power once he is aware of what he holds. "But if you wish for my answer, it would be heads. At the end, you were able to turn the coin in your hand."

It was easy for her eyes and mind to calculate the correctness of the fall. Physics and analysis, this is a child's play for someone who is not a human and who has such striking golden eyes. Will he be satisfied with it? Or will he want to play more? It makes her wonder. How far can her indifference drive him to indulge her? Oh, it will be a glorious time. For others, it may be a headache, but the Apostle is a cruel and vicious woman inside.

"Mr. Aventurine, your schedule requires us to leave in an hour," her voice is melodic, far too melodic fo a bodyguard. A siren, certainly, she is one to fool the sailors. "Moving forward, you may consider me your shadow, but if there is anything you desire: do not hesitate to order me. I am no longer under Diamond's order, but yours. Use me as you wish."

What wishes and orders will he give? A man with a history like his. She is curious.

#celestial-narwhal #GOD I DONT KNOW WHATS GONNA HAPPEN #SHE IS GONNA PRETEND TO BE EXTRA SERIOUS #and the thing is? it's actually the closest to her true self #but its not the usual external hedonistic self of hers so this is just? very interesting #THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK HOLY MOLY #also if u want to continue this go ahead but pls dont mind the length #it was just done to explain some behind the scenes things rothybrty #❄ ― IN CHARACTER. ╱ you breathe by the sun，i breathe by the moon.#❅ 𝐕. HSR ⤻ apostle of origin，the frigid lily. ❞

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tastylemonbread · 1 year ago

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LIKELY INCOHERENT RAMBLINGS ON FICTIONAL GODS IVE CREATED. its a bit much.

[all this has been copy + pasted from discord with some minor revisions]

dude actually. the gods have a natural passive cloaking spell-ish thing on them at all times that blocks most humans from consciously registering them. but anyway this effect doesn't work on animals. where im going with this is that crows are totally aware of real gods

i havent really been updating this server on the design changes to some of the gods. if i can remember em all.....

chaos is now represtented by incomprehensible shambling arms that move in a mesmerizingly smooth manner, but any individual arm/hand appears to move jagged and jittery. its face is one of those creepy white painted smiley theatre masks, and its "neck" is just arms holding the mask

war used to be an armored thing, then i wanted it to be a humanoid robot that looks like a tank. then i decided that war god should actually be a skinny fucker that wears the robot like armor. then i decided no actually these ideas should kiss and be yuri and actually war god is now a big robot tank armor thing that's been worn so long that the being inside has been fused with the mechanical bits. veins and tendons creep along its insides. between the mechanical armor plating, you can see muscle. it bleeds

god of life is void black wearing a white suit, which is like the opposite of death with his white bone and void black clothes. anyway, life never wears a tie, and her blazer is never buttoned up to show she's less tied down by all the red tape of order's institution. oh and also her shirt is fun colorful

[old sketches of life. i forgot to draw her clothes right. i always forget this.]

anyway erm. life and death have rings of the other one's sigils :3

not married

idk its complicated

i think what i may go with is that life thinks theyre already in a relationship but death thinks that he just has this huge unreciprocated crush on her. this too is yuri

have i mentioned that god of fear is a doggy now. black doggy. one of them sleek fighter jet lookin ones. and his face is all scarred and shit. these scars make him look more intimidating but they're just.... scars. signs of abuse and pain. because god of fear is also god of misery and all that stuff [note: nobody actually knows that he's also misery. they're too scared of him (he has this natural aura that makes him fuckign terrifying) to talk with him. hence the crippling isolation and consequential misery]

[note for my tumblr girlies. trying to imvent a god of the sky and stars is kinda fucking hard when you are at all aware of what astronomy is. like. wow. that sure is A LOT OF PLANETS for a single god to have domain over. hrm. maybe i need to rethink this.]

[i rethought it. i have decided that sky and star god only controls how stars are perceived from earth. and also astrology or whatever. yaaayyy ^_^]

[another note about god of war. me making the body fused with the armor conveniently allows me to make a suit of armor that can't actually fit a humanoid thing. i can just say that the humanoid thing is curled up in a ball or whatever. yaaaayyyy :D]

[another note about god of fear. i looked up the dog. its called a doberman]

#txt #writing tag #oc #im supposed to have tags for all my gods but who cares #<- haha get fucked idiot now i care enough to give everything tags #oc line: divine #oc: chaos #oc: life #oc: war #oc: fear #oc: cosmos

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victorluvsalice · 9 months ago

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Another Game To Add To The List

So -- you guys all know that I like video games. I mean, I post on a pretty regular basis about the antics my Sims in my latest Sims 4 save file are getting up to. And you all know that I love to put my favorite characters in my favorite video games if I'm able to -- or even if I'm not. My current Sim family is my Valicer OT3; my Fallout 4 protagonist is Victor Van Dort (or as close as I can get with FO4's character creator and artstyle), and my Vampire: The Masquerade -- Bloodlines Malkavian Fledgling is Alice Liddell (I may not be able to actually reflect that with her appearance in the game, but I can sure as hell write about her adventures doing all the quests!) I have a vested interest in this sort of thing.

So -- when my friend @gaydragonwizards got me into Baldur's Gate 3, leading me to purchase the game for my birthday using the Steam gift cards my parents had gotten me, I immediately thought, "Okay, so -- Alice has VTMB, and Victor has FO4...but a certain newbie roller coaster OC does not have a game yet. And this one DOES allow you to do a custom character..." Which led to me deciding that Smiler was going to be my "Tav" in BG3! I haven't gotten very far in the game yet (I had to do an early restart to add in a mod patch that the creator was VERY SURE shouldn't be put in an existing playthrough because it fucks with XP and leveling a bit, and then recent hotfixes possibly breaking quest items made me too nervous to play for a bit), but I have gotten my Smiler set up, made it past the Nautiloid segment, and have started exploring the wilderness around the ravaged beach! Here's some shots of Smiler in the game:

Smiler's look from the character creation/level up screen! They're a half-elf with Body #2 and Head #5 because that was the combo that actually looked the most like my Smiler Sim -- have a comparison shot:

It's not a PERFECT match, but nothing was going to be -- it's pretty close, though! The hairstyle is of particular note because that is in fact one of the very first mods I picked up for this game: Alt Lae’zel Hair For Tav! None of the in-game hairstyles had the right sort of "bangs" that my Sim!Smiler sports, so I was REALLY happy to spot this on Nexus Mods to give my Tav!Smiler the right look, at least from the front. :) (And, hilariously, the mod was in fact uploaded ON MY BIRTHDAY, so I'm counting it as an inadvertent birthday present.)

Smiler's arrival on the Ravaged Beach, having just woken up from their little fall out of the Nautiloid! As you can probably guess by the outfit, I started them out as a Bard. That was the class that seemed to make the most sense for them, both from a "the roller coaster in Alton Towers is often associated with upbeat music and dancing, especially after the original Festival of Thrills and The Smiler Takeover, and bards DO get access to a good number of mind control spells" and from a "my personal take on Smiler is that they are super charismatic and want to make as many people happy as possible, and the Bard's high Charisma start combined with the Entertainer background suits that perfectly." XD However, they're not JUST a Bard these days -- thanks to the further power of mods, upon their first level-up, they became a Bard/Artificer! :D I picked that class because it has a whole sub-class dedicated to Alchemy, and one of my headcanons for my Smiler is that chemistry/alchemy (depending on the universe) is their thing. Plus it just looks like a super-cool class and mod. (And yes, I do have 5e Spells and Unlock Level Curve to enhance things further, with the appropriate patches (including ULC's patch to smooth out the weird XP valley while leveling up -- learning about THAT was what prompted me to restart so I could install it). Oh, and the exclamation mark is from Camp Event Notifications -- it's telling me that Smiler should Long Rest soon to get one of the special camp events.)

Smiler hanging out in the Wilderness camp! I came here for the first time after picking up Shadowheart, Astarion, and Gale, and was amazed at just how PRETTY the camp is. I mean, look at that waterfall over by the ruin that houses the Magic Mirror! :D Seriously, this game is gorgeous -- I've spent a decent amount of time just wandering around with the camera, admiring the scenery. XD Anyway, as you can see, Smiler picked up some new clothes -- the main outfit is some basic leather armor, dyed with the dye available in the Traveler's chest (I first dyed their starting jerkin, but hated the resultant color scheme -- I'm not wild about the red arms on this set, but at least the yellow pants and black chestpiece feel right!), while the cape and their new lute are from the Digital Deluxe content -- the "Cape Of The Red Prince" and the "Lute of the Merryweather Bard." (Hey, I got this for my birthday, I wasn't not going to get the Digital Deluxe content!) I had them give the lute a little try in-camp -- the upbeat Bard song DEFINITELY suits them. XD

And finally, Smiler with their current companions, ready to head to the nearby chapel on the beach -- Shadowheart (in some new, slightly better Sturdy Armor), Gale (in his robe and wizard hat), and Astarion (sporting more DD content, the "Bicorne of the Sea Beast" and the "Needle of the Outlaw Rogue" (the dagger on his hip)). They are indeed a motley group. XD Hopefully Smiler's 17 Charisma will allow them to talk their way out of most binds!

Now, you may be thinking at this point, "Well, this is going to spark another AU, isn't it?" And you would be -- partially correct. Allow me to explain by excerpting part of my and Squid's conversation while they were recommending mods to me and I was telling them about my plans to do Tav!Smiler:

Squid: ((though -- there is one thing that has popped into my head. with playing Smiler, obviously you can't have any of your Valicer stuff going on in BG3 by default. and do you really want to give yourself ANOTHER AU by playing as them again :P )) Me: ((Oh, that's not really a worry -- the Valicer in the Dark crew already fucking claimed the game as a potential AU ))

YUP. Much like how my brain insisted that the Alice in my Fallout of Darkness stuff be a variant of my Malkavian!Alice from Londerland Bloodlines, thanks to me getting into BG3 at the same time as my obsession with Valicer In The Dark ramped up, the AU in my head is now the VITD trio going through the game. And while it's only a partially-formed pile of shitposts as of yet, that idea PROBABLY deserves its own post...

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #smiler alton #video games #yeah I was checking various heads just to see if I could get one that just roughly matched Smiler's basic head shape #and was pleasantly surprised to see this one actually had a decent match for the rest of the features too #so yes half-elf Smiler for this world #half high elf to be specific #with the Mind Sliver cantrip thanks to 5e Spells #it's psychic damage which felt right for them #still figuring out EXACTLY how I want to play them but I figure spells focusing on psychic effects #and making people more friendly should be prioritized #stuff like the Friends cantrip and Charm Person and the like #and we'll see how the alchemy funtimes go once I get to it :D #gotta level up a bit more first!#and yes my INTENTION for this whole mess was 'don't take it too seriously Vic'#'we're just gonna play this one for fun and not worry about writing an AU for the local Smiler'#VITD Crew: 'Oh so it's free real estate'#*facepalm* why is my brain like this seriously...#queued

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fuckao3sformatting · 5 months ago

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Death of piece of mind

“I'm sorry to disturb sir, but there's a young lady down in the lobby asking for you.”

“Oh yeah? What she look like?”

“Um.. Red hair, weird eyes, nice tits.. hehe.”

I nodded and headed down towards the lobby, humans always took notes of the strangest things, but i still knew who he was talking about. It had been some time so I wondered what she wanted, she asked for me specifically so is it something to do with the case they had to scry on?

“You were looking for me?”

As she spun around her huge eyes met mine. “Gods above, you started me!” She put a hand to her chest.

“Sorry, I tend to do that. What's this about?”

“Is my heart allowed to start again first?” she panted.

I chuckled, I always found that expression funny because whenever people said that their heart was beating faster than usual.

“Sure come along, I have a pretty good idea what this is about so let's go somewhere more private.”

We entered my suite at the hotel, it was the most private place I could think of. Vex looked around fidgeting a little, was she nervous? Might as well get the formalities out of the way.

“Welcome to my living quarters, I'm not entirely wrong in thinking this is about the investigation right?”

I walked over to sit on the edge of my bed motioning for her to join me.She jumped a little again as she turned to face me, is this information so vital that she has to be on guard or is she thinking about something else. Despite her obvious reservations she sat down, that she sat down a respectable space away from me made me realize why she was so fidgety.

“Right, yes you're right. Sorry to show up unannounced but I didn't know who else to ask about this.”

I placed a hand on her shoulder in the hopes that it would calm her. “Don’t worry about it, tell me what you found out and I’ll see if I can help.”

She stopped fidiging, but it didn’t seem to calm her down much.

“Okay, long story short: we found the guy who tampered with the spell and who we assumed he worked for but it turned out he was under someone’s control. So we followed another lead to find the one who controlled him which appeared to be a lady at first” her eyebrows furrowed “and I still have a hard time believing this myself, but the lady turned out to be a skin stealer of some kind.”

I looked at her incredulously, a skin stealer?

“What makes you think it was a skin stealer?”

“I saw them peel their skin off like you’d peel a tomato when I used forensic magic on what we believed was a coat the lady had worn, turned out to be human skin. And get this, it had every blood type in it.” She did the ‘mind blown’ gesture and I had to keep in a chuckle.

“I see, but what does that have to do with me? Why exactly did you want my help?”

“Oh” she said, almost surprised as she padded on her short pockets “because I also caught a glimpse of what we think is his actual form, and he had this symbol, among others carved into his forehead.” and handed me the piece of paper.

“Now that’s something I haven’t seen in a long time, I’m guessing you know who Cain is then since you went to me with this?”

She nodded. “The mythical first vampire right?”

“Yeah, the first murderer, the first predator according to some. Why would this guy have his symbol.. you said carved right?” she nodded again “into his forehead.. Were there signs of him being a vampire?”

“At first, when he wore the lady’s skin he wasn’t showing up on security footage, but then he walked outside during the day so the ‘he’s a vampire’ theory kinda went down the drain.. So I was hoping you’d maybe know a little more than I do because the only two options I have left are skin walker and Cain cultist of some variety, other than that I’m stumped.”

“I’ll ask around if there'spopped up anything like that recently, though Cain isn’t exactly a liked topic around here so I’d appreciate it if I didn’t go stick my neck out for nothing.”

I guess I really was the best person for her to ask. The circle has a good few Cain Truthers. But what would be adequate compensation for having to listen to the religious fanaticism I’d have to endure before if I got anything useful out of them? I thought for a few seconds about my option's, she was looking at me expectantly, and I looked her over a little until my eyes landed on the dancing pulse point on her neck. She hadn’t really calmed down since we entered my room, so her heart was still beating a steady rhythm. Yes, that would be my price.

“I want to drink from you, a few drops of vitae to seal our agreement.”

Her cheeks immediately turned the most delightful shade of pink, cute. “Um, are you sure? I don’t mind but I’ve just never done something like this before..”

She's been so nervous around me since she got here. But, I had absolutely nothing against popping this particular cherry. It would be my first time tasting mage blood, so this was something to be savored I’m sure.

“Don’t worry”

I moved closer to her. Good thing we were already on the bed “just let me lead and make yourself comfortable.”

She nodded and closed her large, oddly colored eyes. I moved her long hair away from her neck with one hand and cradled her face with the other, tilting her head for better access. As I kissed along the line of her jaw to find the best entry point, I relished how long and slender her neck was, how smooth and soft her skin felt on my lips. As my fangs pierced Vex's skin, she whimpered slightly, and my beast was enjoying this as much as the little human i had left. It was like she was made to be bitten by me. Her warm blood filled my mouth, and I did indeed savour it like a man deprived of water, I had never tasted anything better. But something else possibly more powerful than the familiar hunger took me over. Without letting go of my prey I pinned her to my bed under me, the little surprised squeak that came from her only spurred me on further, I found both her hands with ease and pinned them above her head with one hand in a swift motion and the other that previously held her face started to explore further down her body. I situated myself between her legs with ease, and her heart started to beat faster, quickening the flow of blood accompanied by heat radiating from her lower body. Yes, she wanted this just as much as I, what perfect little prey.

“Loki, please…"

I needed no convincing. I was already exploring her smooth curves and I was determined to map them out in their entirety, I might not get another chance. Her breasts were particularly sensitive even with the barrier of her bra, I pulled her shirt up exposing her stomach and she made the most delicious adorable noises. As my hand finally reached the hem of her shorts she wrestled her hands free from my grip and tried to push me away from her.. Why?

“Stop. That's enough Loki. Please stop, not like this...”

She. She didn't want this?

I pulled out my fangs with reluctance and licked the wound to close it. The small moan she made had me wonder why she asked me to stop. When I came back to my senses a horrid realization hit me. She was deadly pale and she could barely keep her eyes open, shit. Fuck what have I done, I checked her pulse and it was very weak, I padded her lightly on the cheek and her eyes fluttered weakly. Vex I'm so sorry, please be alright.

She finally managed to open her eyes but they were.. different? The white and pupils had completely disappeared leaving the right completely green and the left completely black, she also had a glow of silver surrounding her.. What was happening? Her complexion which I had assumed was due to severe blood loss was way too white to be natural as well, she. She looked like an angel.

“I'm alright I think, I.. just… I don't.” She paused for a moment. “Why did you do that?”

I just blinked at her.

“Because we had a deal?”

I couldn't follow her train of thought before she pulled down her shirt and tried to cover herself up, ah that. The guilt I had while I thought I'd drained her was replaced by the guild of letting my senses run away from me and taking things further than need be, hadn't she stopped me I might've done both. Seeing Vex shielding herself by putting space between us again made her look so incredibly fragile, all I could do was let the shame comsoon me for almost ruining something so innocent.

“I.. Everything just - the moment I bit you I was practically running on autopilot, it doesn't excuse it I know.”

She just nodded.

“But, would you have stopped me if I had asked beforehand?”

What the fuck is wrong with me. I've just finished violating her and I now want to know if it would have been better if I'd asked first? Am I fucking stupid or what..

“Yes, I believe I would.”

I don't know why the answer hit my ego that hard but it did, then again can I really blame her? I am quite literally the greatest predator she’ll ever meet.

“It's because of the” I flicked my tongue over one of my fangs as emphasis “yeah?”

She shook her head.

“I just don't know you at all. It's nothing against you but I'd ideally want my first time to be with someone I actually know.”

First time? She said it was her first time being bitten sure, but she can't be referring to that can she?

“Ok, now you're just fucking with me. Right?”

Vex frowned, after everything I'd done this was what she got angry about?

“Is it really that hard to believe I'm a virgin?”

“I mean… Yeah a little bit.”

“Enlighten me?”

Ok Loki, you have to choose your words very carefully now. Express yourself without making it more awkward and weird than it already is.

“Look at you.”

Fuck. No. What is wrong with me?

“I mean, you just seem like a girl who'd have a lot of options.”

The glow was fading away slowly and that's when I realized it hadn't bothered me, quite the opposite actually, it was comforting.

“You're just so.. radiant. I've never seen anything like it.”

Her face softened, a slight tint of the pink form before returning to her cheeks but not quite as strong.

“Just because I have options doesn’t mean I have to take them” then she giggled, she actually giggled after this whole situation “but I guess I appreciate the compliment, as weirdly phrased as it was.”

I rolled off the bed to give her more space, she nodded at me like she appreciated the gesture.

“I’ll see what I can figure out, I’ll put my findings with your guy in the serpent's kiss. And again, sorry.”

She shrugged. “What’s done is done, but I would appreciate it if what happened didn’t leave this room..”

“My lips are sealed, you have my word.”

And she left. And I realized that I’d probably never be able to forget the way her skin felt, how my name sounded on her voice, how her blooded tasted so sweet on my tongue, how we felt so complete laying together. For the first time since being turned i realized what true hunger was and that I'd never be this satisfied again. And that is why I could never be this close to her again, both for her and my sake.

#vex and loki #vex #loki #vampire romance #world of darkness #mage the awakening #vampire the requiem #ocXnpc #original content

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lediz-watches · 2 years ago

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Hang on to your life

In this episode, Carlos proves himself The Best Hero and I love him.

Side note – the episode image from the wiki (which is where I get these from) could not have picked a more 70s dressed set image if it possibly tried. Also: BREAD.

I’m liveblogging The Winchesters as a Supernatural!virgin. Please keep my lack of knowledge in mind if you continue...

In episode thoughts:

Ha. Cat scare. And here I was thinking about how Buffy taught me to enjoy the irony of a guy going down a dark alley to die

He… appears to be smoking? Like, literally?

Oh. Spontaneous Combustion. Or not so spontaneous, it seems. But will there be a foot left behind?

Really, John? You’re asking if she’s out NOW? Timing, my dude.

Ugh. Okay, on the one hand, I enjoy an episode where my two favourites get to take the lead, but on the other hand… actually, pause, I have to talk about this because I think it’s important.

By staying behind, John is making it clear that Mary is his priority over the job. And normally, that would be a good thing, because it shows balance and emotional connection over the whole violence thing. It would be a sign he can be redeemed. But the thing is, he doesn’t normally do this, and following on from his not great timing earlier, to me this feels… uncomfortable. As I’m writing this, I realise that it feels vaguely controlling. Like the sort of behaviour that implies he’s more doing it because he wants to keep an eye on Mary and make sure she doesn’t make any decisions about her life without him having a say in it.

And I do know that’s me making assumptions, probably. I hope I’m just reaching and misreading because I dislike John as a character, but right now, as I’m watching it, that’s how it feels.

And it is NOT MADE BETTER by Carlos’s response of “I’ll allow it”, as much as that was played as a joke, because… dude, Carlos, you’re still a man, and in this context, that statement feels like you are ‘allowing’ a boy to stay with your female friend. This is how people read too much into fiction and make unhealthy connections and hyper!feminist critique and get angry and ughhhh stop doing this…!

Okay moving on, sorry, I’m done.

I appreciate this bartender. I feel his hospitality pain.

…Yeah, Carlos is so Rivers Gemini forever now. It suits him, and that bed jacket he’s wearing today.

Mary. MARY. Note the flag. I know I said I’m done, but NOTE THE FLAG.

So, Rivers, what’s the need to get out?

Oh look, another character I’m supposed to recognise and don’t! The music insists. I’m sure I’ll figure that out later.

Aw, Carlos misses the life that could have been. That’s sad but exactly the sort of the thing I was hoping for from Mary! Why is Carlos’s understated backstory everything I wanted from Mary?

Oh. Maybe hat-guy isn’t supposed to be recognised so much as future important.

Wait, so Ada knows Mary’s dad. I didn’t think he was a Man of Letters? Are Men of Letters and Hunters the same thing? That hasn’t been clarified!

Okay, no. Mary’s dad doesn’t like the Men of Letters. But he does know Ada. And Ada was definitely one of Henry’s partners, and Henry was a Man of Letters. I AM SO CONFUSED.

Feather guy was gonna burn Jericho… but went for the bartender? For why?

That’s a cool tattoo. I like it. Probably not worth the burning humans, but still cool.

Okay, he’s not a look or aesthetic style of Loki that I’d like, but I do enjoy a trickster god.

Yes, Sam, you’re right. This sudden character development from the crew is ridiculous in less than a few months. I love them, but I agree, this is very strange that we’re supposed to believe this happened the way it did.

He’s also right that Mary’s a stubborn jackass. And I do like that this all happened because Sam realised he’d screwed up as a parent. And was his misguided attempt to get her out of the game. Oh, yes, I like this so much. Now I just want her to realise that she wanted the choice, but also wanted the game.

SUBTITLES THAT TRANSLATE SPANISH! IMPROVEMENTS!

Oh, Loki, you bastard trickster. This is cruelty to a hero.

And sure enough, Carlos is the hero I want.

G-gli- glitter?

Oh, but Loki, you will. These are the rules of gods. You test humanity and if humanity succeeds, you must accept it.

Awwww Carlos and Mary (and Lata being a brat in the background) and I love it so much!

Look, Samuel, I appreciate the sentiment, but I would be way happier with you if you said ‘hey, so, Ada found this thing and I’m planning to go help her out. You can come, but we also need to find those places again, and your team is great, so maybe we could split up’

Come oooon, Carlos, live the dream again for a minute

Because yeah, this you, I buy 100%. Is good food for the fangirl.

Also, I kind of want this cover on my spotify now.

M-Millie, what are you doing in this montage right now?

Oh, Mary… oh Mary.

And that’s another flag, that he’s not focussed on her when she’s saying THAT, of all things. I mean, I know the fans are freaking out right now, but come on. That was a big statement for this woman, pay her some goddamn mind.

Let’s just cut out John so I can enjoy this, because it was actually a great episode and I really loved a lot of it!

I love Carlos. I love his story, I love that he gave up his dreams to DO GOOD, that he was willing to sacrifice and sacrifice to the end, and that that, in fact, was his saving grace, and he was still given a moment to be the man he wanted to be, WHILE loving his life and his family and arghh he’s such a wonderful character I love him so much!

And Samuel! The whole story being a result of Samuel screwing up his attempt to set things right! The fact that he acknowledged that his father screwed him up, so he screwed up Mary and Maggie, and when he lost Maggie he knew he needed to save Mary, but he didn’t COMMUNICATE so it all went to hell, and ladies and gentlemen this is what happens when you don’t COMMUNICATE and –

And he’s so proud of the leader his little girl has become! Because all she ever really needed was a chance to be a hero and look at her becoming so much better than Samuel or his father or any of them ever were and –

AND LATA IS SUCH A LITTLE BRAT I LOVE HER SO MUCH.

Gah! Chapter Nine, right, right, moving on. (or back to chapter one if you care.)

#the winchesters #have I mentioned I love Carlos yet?#Because I love Carlos #And Lata is a brat so I love her too #choosing good to the end #we're ignoring john and mary's whole deal for our mental health #Samuel is a very good flawed paternal figure #basically I almost loved this whole episode

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weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years ago

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Unfortunately Yours

Summary: When you and Bucky successfully infiltrate a HYDRA auction, you’re told to stay another day due to max capacity on the jet. But how are you going to survive a night alone with this insufferable Super Soldier? Especially considering the miniscule size of the room and the obvious dilemma presented; who gets the bed?

Warning: S M U T , the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, language, spit kink, daddy kink, ptsd symptoms, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, hate-s e x, rough, more like enemies-to-lovers kind of thing, gagging, m!receiving, f!receiving, lots of receiving lol, 18+, M

Word Count: 10.6K (Whhhyyyyy)

Your body burned with exhaustion and the sheer weight of your extremities felt enough to drag you to the floor and mirror a coma with the length of your hibernation. You no longer had the minimal strength required to pick up your feet properly which resulted in the sound of shuffling to fill the small, and by small you meant miniscule, room you’d been assigned to.

Well, you and Bucky had been assigned to.

You’d both played your parts well enough over the course of the last few hours. You’d sauntered into the ran-shacked looking bar with Bucky’s arm tossed lazily over your shoulder, his distaste for the assignment evident on his face, but he’d cleared it away the second his foot crossed the threshold. He pulled you in tighter to his body and raised his chin into the air, emitting the energy of a man not to be trifled with. You’d portrayed your role as a damsel just as, if not more, convincing as Barnes’ opposite. Your shoulders hunched over and your steps were small and quivering, the wig on your head a tool used to curtain the hair in your face.

You were the lamb to this White Wolf.

Word had traveled through the dark and twisted grapevine that a certain showing of sorts took place tonight and a high-ranking target was rumored to be amongst its audience. You and Barnes were on the first flight to Germany within minutes.

Bucky had pulled you through the crowd moving along to the thundering music in the background and halted at the edge of the bar. His grip on your shoulder tightened once he’d caught the man’s attention and you winced, his fingers digging a little too deep for your liking.

The bartender scanned you over and took in your frame, making you feel smaller than you had already displayed yourself to be. It took him a while to conclude but when he took in Bucky’s domineering gaze, a look as if to say Deny me, I dare you, he nodded once and wrote something down on a napkin, sliding it over to Bucky.

Scum. All of them.

You nearly blew your cover trying to throw Bucky a look but you refrained from the hellfire clawing its way out of you. You had to be perfectly in control, emotions and beliefs aside. You were a damsel and you had to make certain they believed that. You knew they were watching; they always were.

“Relax,” Bucky hissed, pulling you under his arm and bringing his lips to your ear.

“When you pretend you’re the one being put up for auction, then you can tell me to relax,” you muttered, never looking up from the ground.

“I have been.” When you paused your movement, he pulled away to scan the room, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you. I promise.” He led you backstage and turned the corner to a dimly lit hallway, barren of any decoration in sharp contrast to every other section of the building, “Besides, once they realize how insufferable you are, they’ll be begging me to take you back,”

He opened an iron door and pushed you into the room, sending you tumbling down onto the carpet. He tsked, stepping over you and not looking back after shutting the door behind himself. You counted thirteen pairs of feet and judging by the way some of them were turned towards you, they had to be watching. You observed your hands for a second, counting slowly until you figured you’d stalled long enough and sent your trembling gaze to the exit. Bucky let out a low chuckle and clasped his hand around your upper arm, launching you back onto your feet and twisting your body to face him.

Oh, darling, German fluently escaped his tongue and you nearly rolled your eyes at the condescending tone settled in his words, You know better than that, don’t you?

His hold tightened and you winced, holding back the whimper in your throat. If you saw any hint of a bruise forming on your arm, you would give him hell later . . . and possibly even if you didn’t.

You bit your tongue and let him lead you towards a leather chair before he pulled you swiftly down onto his lap where his hand remained on your thigh, brushing the inside softly. Had you not been so annoyed, you’d have been humiliated at all the stares devouring the scene unfolding before them.

Good girl, he drawled and pressed your back flat up against his chest where he could put you on display.

You knew you should’ve been annoyed, or at least settled so into your role as his temporary whore-for-sale that the sensation coming alive between your thighs shouldn’t have made an appearance. But sometimes, the way Bucky brought his voice down real low and cooed an insult or jest your way just had an affect that your body would not deny. It kept you awake a lot.

Instead, you swallowed hard and let yourself be splayed against him. You ignored the scent of sandalwood in his cologne.

Your body trembled from the cold breeze floating around in the room and you shifted in Bucky’s lap to block everyone’s sight from the way your chest reacted to the change in temperature.

Don’t be shy, he murmured and removed your arms from your breasts, letting the thin, practically see-through fabric show you to the world.

“Buc-” You started, your panic creeping through the cracks at the cheshire sneers sent your way, but at the first sign of your discomfort, he retracted his hands and twisted you around gently, throwing your legs over the side of the chair and spreading them but forcing your upper half to face him. Effectively, cutting your chest off from their line of sight.

You trembled out a sigh and he grabbed your face tightly, drawing your eyes to his. He examined you, his hardened gaze shouting words he couldn’t currently say. But you understood. He could be a jerk, but he wasn’t a bad man.

Your body instinctively leaned into him for warmth as another breeze engulfed you, resulting in a shiver that made its way up your spine. “Are they still looking?” you inquired and he gripped your neck with a ferocity that made you squirm in his lap. Fuck.

He pulled your ear to his lips and licked the helix. You whimpered. “No,” he whispered, running his thumb along your jawline, “But if you don’t quit fucking squirming you’re gonna have a problem, Doll,”

You opened your mouth in question when you felt a sudden twitch on your backside and you swallowed. Hard. He never broke eye contact with you, instead choosing to raise a brow in mocking. Your chest heaved up and down and how you could feel his breath grazing on your cheek almost had you rubbing your legs together for some form of desperate friction. No, you had to keep yourself composed, keep the act going. But he’d seen it. All of it.

You nod your head and slowed your breathing down until he released his grip around your throat and turned his attention towards the dim stage. You leaned back into him and followed suit, making sure to keep your attention downcast and appear disheveled.

“There,” Bucky whispered after a few minutes and you lifted your head only to find the man you had come all this way for walking straight towards you.

Like a moth to a flame.

“How much?” The older man inquired, his grotesque gaze settled on your spread legs.

Bucky looked up at the balding man as if this was the first time he’d noticed his presence, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

The man lifted his brow, or what would’ve been, and smiled wickedly, “I’ll give you double your price if you give her to me now,” he offered, his eyes slithering up to the apex of your thighs and this time you didn’t have to fake the shiver running up your spine.

A small smirk formed on Bucky’s face and he waved his hand dismissively at him, “Get in line,”

The old man sneered but Bucky was right, most everyone had their attention fixated on what was happening currently and it was apparent there was, indeed, a line.

Bucky rested his gloved hand on your upper thigh and gripped tight, whether to refrain from hitting the guy or just to touch you, he wasn’t sure but he couldn’t keep you away when the man said, “I’ll give you four times the asking price but I want her now,”

Bucky’s grip on your thigh tightened and you squeaked at the pain, jumping slightly in his lap. “How about I give her to you for free for ten minutes and you tell me if you can handle her,”

You jerked your head towards Bucky and furrowed your brows. Free? Dick. You nearly scoffed.

The man gripped onto your calf and you shifted to kick his hand away when Bucky’s own shot out and and ripped his off of you, “Don’t touch my stuff,” he spit and the man let out a yell but that only spurred Bucky on and he tightened his fist, “Until terms are agreed upon, she remains mine to do with as I please. Understood?”

The man nodded hastily and Bucky threw you off his lap when he stood up. “Anyone else?” Bucky shouted to the room, daring others to test his limits when it came to you. After a few moments of silence Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t fucking think so,”

Bucky’s grip on the man remained and he stared down at the hunched figure, “Now, you,” he addressed and the room remained silent. This was allowed here.

Normally, merchandise couldn’t be touched until it was purchased. No buying before the auction, no discussing what you’re offering, no negotiating but most importantly don’t try to steal from anyone. These are criminals and that being said, they handle things amongst themselves. They know the rules and the risks they take breaking them.

So, when Bucky drags the poor bastard away, you follow right behind him. Not a protest to be heard. Bucky throws open the door we entered through and finds the nearest room before chucking the HYDRA agent inside and locking the door behind you.

The room was brightly lit, with all four walls a dull cream color and dark brown couches strewn casually about. There’s no real order to this place. All cement corners and LED bulbs. Pure business.

“Let ‘em know,” Bucky orders and you turn around to argue only to find the man pulling a gun out of his jacket pocket.

You jerk suddenly and kick Bucky square in the stomach, launching him towards one of the couches just as a shot rings out. You blanch at the sound, the noise filling your head and drowning everything else out. You hear yelling but you can’t make out the words, only the panic intermingled within them. Your hand reaches out around you and you grip the small button lined into your thin clothing, pressing it four times how you’d been instructed.

Everything moved slowly and people began filing into the room. How did they get here so fast? No. It wasn’t possible, they were a quarter mile down the road, there was no way they were your backup.

Hands began flying in the air and you were picked up and dropped multiple times, each time landing harder than the last. You tried to blink back the spinning but the blows landing on your face and torso made it all the worse.

Instinctively, you threw your hands up to protect your face and fought to find some footing to help. Bucky was good but he wasn’t a God, he would need help. When the first blow met your forearms you reached out to grasp the hand and used your other to drive your fist right into the person’s nose. The bone crunched under your blow.

You took a hit, then another when you managed to analyze the enemy’s fight pattern and waited until he left himself open before driving your knee into his rib cage. He bent over in pain and you grabbed him by the hair, hearing another crack when you shoved your elbow upwards against his nose.

You heard a shout and whipped your head over to see Bucky on his back, a looming figure with a gun aimed straight towards him. You galvanized towards them and threw yourself in the air, using your weight to kick him off of Bucky when another shot rang out.

Bucky shot up and crushed the gun with his metal arm. You scoured the room for the familiar HYDRA agent but found him nowhere. You shot out of the room, knocking into an opposing wall as you turned the corner and ducked when the sound of a bullet whizzed past you.

This is not going good. You had lost your target and rummaged through room after room until you’d become lost. Fuck. Where the hell did he run off to? You winced after breaking out into a sprint but pressed on, not allowing yourself to slow down. There was no way you were going to fail this mission, especially after coming so close to success.

Sweat trailed down your face and your muscles screamed at you to halt, their exhaustion beginning to wear you down. Your breathing grew rapid and your vision blurred and just as you went to lean on a wall to rest, your shoulder exploded out in pain and you collapsed with a cry.

“Dirty whore,” the HYDRA man seethed, a cane raised over his head. He brought it down and you spun to the side, feeling the air breeze past your ear.

Your hand latched onto the cane and you shoved it into his gut, pushing him away. SHIELD wanted this guy alive, so alive they would receive him. That didn’t mean he had to come in one piece though.

You tore the walker out of his hand just as he tumbled onto his ass. You stood up, grunting along the way and hovered over his body, fear sprawled along his features.

“You can either stay still or get beat with your own cane, it’s your choice,” you offered, aching to bring the walker down onto his face. “Please test me. Please.” You begged.

His gaze shifted between you and the weapon and he brought his trembling hands up in defeat. He must’ve been an agent of some Intelligence branch because his fighting abilities were evidently subpar at best.

You sighed, sad to see the opportunity go but brought the cane down none the less. “That’s unfortunate,”

You turned your attention to the sound of running coming around the corner and moved to drag and hide your captive in a nearby closet only to roll your eyes when Bucky came ‘round. You tossed the cane back and forth between your hands and smiled proudly towards the agent on the floor.

“Look who I caught,” you toyed and were met with a grunt.

“Only because you let him get away,” he retorted, pulling the balding man up to his feet.

Everything began to slow and the hellfire you’d kept under mounds of ice had finally melted through its freezing cage. “What?”

He turned his back towards you and trudged the hesitant man behind him towards the exit.

“I said,” you hollered, not caring how the halls carried your echo, “What?”

“I heard what you said,” he called back to you, not bothering to turn around.

And there you were left, frozen and dumbfounded for five solid minutes before you could pull yourself together enough to stomp your way back towards the rendezvous point. You remained hazy for the most part while debriefing. You tried to recount everything but the way your anger engulfed you in its flame obscured your memory so you kept it short.

It was quickly brought up that SHIELD captured more HYDRA agents than expected and were gonna be at max capacity so you and Bucky had to stay at a base a few miles down the road. You grumbled in compliance but Bucky didn’t respond, not even a godforsaken grunt.

What SHIELD had failed to mention though, was that this bunker was clearly meant for one. It barely counted as a room. There was a small bathroom in the corner just big enough for a shower and toilet. No sink. And a small counter with just enough space for a stove, microwave and radio. If you were to lay down vertically or horizontally you’d nearly be touching wall each way. Not to mention the singular bed.

And that’s how you got to where you were now. Miniscule room. Exhausted body. Drained mind. Patience long gone.

You huffed and dropped your bag in front of the entrance before walking to the bathroom and turning to slam the door closed. You turned the faucet on and ripped the wig off, discarding your clothes in a pile before stepping into the shower. The warm water was nice and welcoming but your body already felt aflame so you twisted the knob and held your breath when the cold stream trickled down your body. It was difficult to breathe at first, but your body soon adjusted to the temperature and you began wiping the muck off your skin with the bar of soap supplied. But that’s all the was supplied. Clearly, this place was meant to be a quick pit stop.

You sat on the hard floor as the water streamed onto your body. You could nearly fall asleep to its rhythm; It was only when your head hit the wall that you realized you were so you begrudgingly stood up and shut off the water. You grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and pat yourself dry, noticing just then that you left your clothes outside.

You let out a long sigh and twisted open the doorknob to find Bucky toying with the radio on the counter; not even purposefully, just looking for something to do while he waited.

You opened your mouth to ask him to hand you your bag but after what he said to you earlier you’d sooner eat hot coals than ask him to do anything for you. You stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped neatly around your chest and you bent over to open your bag. The shuffling on the radio stopped.

“You could’ve at least left me some warm water,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes.

You searched in your bag for the fresh clothes residing there only to turn around when you found them and have the bathroom door shut in your face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You shouted, pounding your fist against the door.

You could hear the water running and you groaned, pounding harder. The door opened for a split second and you were hit in the face with the clothes you’d left inside only for it to instantly be slammed shut again.

You punched the door with all the frustration built up over the past few hours and felt the wood crack with your force. Why did this man have to be incredibly baffling? You were not nearly paid enough to deal with such an unbearable partner. He would have you bald from stress before you knew it.

You spent the next few minutes grumbling to yourself after you changed and scribbled your frustration onto a small notebook you took with you everywhere. It was only when you heard the water shut off did you remember something. You still had the only towel. A villainous smirk tugged at your lips and you placed the folded towel on the edge of the bed, away from the door.

Then you heard the creak. “I will walk out naked if you don’t give me the towel,” Bucky threatened.

You shrugged despite him not being able to see you from your position on the bed, “I’ll just laugh at your dick,”

“You weren’t laughing earlier,” he shot back.

Oh. So he did remember. Good. You thought he’d gotten amnesia within the past few hours, maybe he was just too ashamed to mention it.

“Too disgusted to insult. Plus, I was playing a character,”

“Fine,” he responded and quickly came into view, haughtily sauntering over to your side and you shouted.

“Dear God!” You held the towel up to block your sight of his barren body. It was disgusting. He was all wet, hair dripping onto his muscled torso, water gleaming off his taut skin, 5 o’clock shadow drenched and straight out of a wet dream. Jesus.

“Prude,” he commented, snatching the towel from your grasp and wrapping it around himself.

“Respectable,” you corrected, crossing your arms and shoving him away. “You get the floor,”

He lifted his duffle off the ground and rummaged through it. “Then I get the blanket,”

“You get fuck all,” you stated, flipping off the lamp beside you and snuggling into the warm cot.

When the shuffling stopped and the bathroom light was shut off, you shut your eyes and let the wear of the day grab at you, lulling you into the beginning of slumber. That is, until the blanket was hauled from around you, damn near throwing you onto the floor. You shouted out and caught yourself last minute.

“Barnes!” You yelled, steadying yourself and reaching over the edge to grab the blanket back. Your hand fisted at the faux fur and you pulled with all your might to no avail.

He swatted you away as though you were a pesky fly and reached over to turn the light of the lamp on. You glowered at him and stood, wrapping the blanket around your arm and pulling upwards. Your arm strained to its capacity but the man on the floor didn’t budge. Only turned his back to you and shut his eyes. You reached over yourself and flipped the switch of the lamp, once again immersing yourself in the comforting darkness.

Bucky stiffened and opened his eyes then turned and froze you in your spot with his stare. He reached around and lit the lamp, slowly retracting his arm and daring you to turn it off again. So you did.

He yanked the blanket from your grasp and threw you back onto the bed, bringing light into the room. “Light stays on,” he growled.

“No! You’ve had your goddamn way since you stepped foot into this room. Light goes off and I get the blanket!” You shouted, not concerned about anyone else hearing considering the room was soundproof.

“No. You get the bed so I get the blanket. Tell me how that doesn’t make sense,” he countered.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that it did, in fact, make sense. The floor here was wooden and clearly uncomfortable, plus he hadn’t even argued about the bed situation.

You retreated, “Fine, light still goes off,”

“No,”

“Yes,”

Silence fell between the two of you but you weren’t budging. Barnes had faced plenty of monsters, he could handle the dark.

“I need the noise to fall asleep,” he admitted and it was then you could hear the slight hum the bulb emitted.

You didn’t speak for a while but reared back and pulled out your phone, “What do you want to listen to?” You scrolled through a few sounds you had stored on your phone, “We’ve got: nature sounds, frequencies, guided meditations, etc. You name it, but I’m not sleeping with this forsaken light on,”

Bucky studied you, his expression changing a mile a minute but the one of indifference conquered, “Rain,”

You nodded once and selected the audio, placing the phone face up on the nightstand and turning the light off for the last time. Hopefully. You hunkered down into the thin mattress and reached down, grasping at the thick blanket. When you pulled, there was some give. He’d let you get just enough needed to cover your body if you laid at the very edge and your hand hovered in the air when you laid your arm over the side.

Minutes flew by with your eyes shut and the exhaustion slithered over your body but your mind ran wild with the events from earlier. You tried not to get angry or sad or . . . bothered. Your breathing deepened when you began to succumb to your body’s fatigue and you drifted inch by inch into the welcoming void lulling your name.

You didn’t hear when he shifted, only managed to register the faint tracing of his fingertips on your hand before finally giving out.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you opened your eyes for the first time that night. This regularly happened. You’d wake up multiple times during the night to shift positions or throw off the sheets, no matter how insignificant the desire, your body always found a way to wake you for it.

You opened your eyes slowly to a hazy vision and blinked at the sitting figure on the floor, “Bucky?” You croaked, bringing a hand up to wipe at your face, “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one, go back to sleep,”

“What are you doing?” You persisted, ignoring his demand and sitting up slowly, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Couldn’t,”

A heartbeat. Then another. And another. He didn’t care to elaborate.

“Do you want the bed?” You offered, stretching yourself out and already placing yourself down on the floor, “It’s too hot up there, anyway,”

His attention turned to you for the first time but you’d already began closing your eyes, not really having the energy to argue with him. You could hear shuffling from his spot and the ground disappeared below you, strong hands grasping your body and lifting you up to place you gently back onto the cot.

“I prefer the floor,” he insisted, wrapping the blanket around you, “Besides, you’re a horrendous liar,”

You didn’t hold back the singular chuckle, your haze still enveloping you. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

He sat at the foot of the bed, his hand hovering over your leg in hesitation, “It’s complicated.” He dropped his hand to his side.

“Isn’t the rain helping?” you mumbled, your sight now adjusting to the dark.

“Yes,”

“Then what?”

“I just . . . don’t want to wake you,”

“Well, I’m already awake if that makes you feel better,” you jeered, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It doesn’t,”

“Nothing does,” you retorted, the inevitable annoyance you always felt when conversing with him already made its way up into your tone.

He scoffed and stood from the bed, placing himself in the same spot on the floor with his head leaned up against the wall and his arm resting on his perched knee.

“Oh, so now you can’t handle a little attitude,” your tone came out incredulous, “You didn’t have any issues earlier when you blamed me for that guy’s escape. Which, he didn’t even get to do, might I add,”

“I was projecting,” he replied, gaze still focused on the door opposite to him.

You blinked, “Are you so tired that you’re actually admitting to being a dick?”

“I know I can be a dick, but you threw yourself straight into the line of fire twice today. So I don’t really give a shit if I was mean to you,”

“I only did that because you almost got shot twice today. Don’t take your anger out on me for your incompetence. Just say ‘thank you’ and move on already,”

“Incompetence?” His head jerked in your direction. “What was incompetent was that you couldn’t keep yourself composed,”

You sat up. “What in the hell are you talking about? My behavior is what got our target to basically give himself up to us! It was me that trapped him, not you!” His composure tensed and you crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re just mad your dick got hard so if anything you’re the one who couldn’t keep their compos-” His hand was wrapped around your throat and you were pinned to the mattress before you could finish your sentence.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed at you, his face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You spoke hoarsely around his tightening grip, “Does the Big Bad Wolf not like that he was turned on? Who’s the prude now?”

“Turned on?” He spat, his free hand resting by your head to cage you in, “You think what you did earlier turned me on?”

You grasped at the hand around your throat and pried slightly to speak, “Fight me or fuck me, Barnes. But stop lying to yourself, it’s getting old,”

The room seemed to freeze over and Bucky paused. His hesitation was enough to elicit the fire from earlier and your legs squirmed a little underneath him. God, you hoped he chose the latter.

Then his lips crashed against yours.

You squeaked at the sudden onslaught but threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him in tighter against you. He dropped when you intertwined your legs, his full weight pressing against you deliciously. You ground up against him, your core aching from the previous hours and the small friction elicited a moan from the both of you.

“So impatient,” he scolded, bringing the hand from around your throat down to your hips and pressing you into the bed. “What a whore,”

His breath danced along your cheek and you mewled at his words. Gods, he was going to be the death of you. Or the beginning.

You breathed in deeply, his sandalwood scent intoxicating you in a manner that alcohol never could. When you drank, you were just drunk. But when you took a sip from the tall glass that was Bucky, it brought you to life. Your body sang melodies wherever you were plastered against each other and your skin burned with need.

Touch me, your body screamed, touch me.

“Fuck off,” you groaned and Bucky jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to scavenge.

The goosebumps that danced across your skin when he ran his warm tongue up from the curve of your neck to the bottom of your ear brought an arrogant smirk onto Bucky’s face. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged when he reached a particularly sensitive spot that had your legs shaking when he kissed it sloppily.

Your mouth hung open in silent pleasure and your breaths were short and rapid, your body betraying all forms of control you previously had over yourself. The hand that wasn’t residing in his hair trailed down his muscled arm and you gripped at the brawn this man possessed. His skin reminisced lightly of silk despite the rough texture of his hands.

The same hands that now made its way into your hair and tugged at the strands at the base of your neck, jolting your chin higher into the air. Your grip tightened around his biceps and the strength they emitted sent a pool rushing to your core. You continued hunting until you found the hem of his black, cotton shirt and you made your way up his taut abdomen. You let out a sigh and he jumped lightly at the sensation of your cool fingertips across his scorching skin. It was a nice contrast for him.

You gripped at the shirt and hastily ripped the cotton upward. Bucky broke away from his descent down to your chest to let you remove the fabric and you’d suddenly wished you’d turned the lights on first. He mimicked your action and tossed your shirt in a deserted corner of the room to potentially be abandoned. You gasped when the cold air of the room grazed upon the perked mounds of your breasts.

His lips returned to their spot on the dip of your neck and his tongue slithered down in between your breasts. Your breath hitched when his wet muscle made its way up to the apex of your chest. His right hand mirrored his tongue and swirled around your nipple, his teeth pulling eagerly every so often and you hissed at the delectable pain. Your eyes devoured the scene unfolding on your chest and you reached over to flick the light on, desperate for a clearer image.

Bucky halted and his metal arm reached over to switch the light back off but you swatted his hand away and he backed up lightly, his irritation evident on his face.

“I want to watch,” you grumbled and shifted up to bring your lips back up to his. He let you. He pushed back lightly with his own lips and leaned in sync with your movements. He parted his mouth slightly and you followed suit, letting him lead his way into yours with the same muscle he’d just had flicking across your breasts.

The light went off.

You pushed him away and shot towards the switch but metal met your wrist firmly enough to keep you in place. “Bucky.” You wrestled against his hold and turned your full attention back to the figure hovering above, “I want to see you,”

Despite the darkness, you noticed his mouth twitch but his grip on your wrist remained solid. You sprawled back onto the bed and wrapped your free hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down onto you, pressing his surprisingly soft lips onto yours. You broke apart, his lips a hair’s breadth away from your own. “I want to see you,”

He didn’t move, only scanned your face over a few times and you brought him back down into a kiss. This one wasn’t like before. This one was warm, soft, patient. A ballet compared to its previous mosh pit. He danced along with you, an admission hidden somewhere in his tenderness.

You hadn’t realized you’d been freed of his hold until you were wrapping that arm over his shoulder and the sound of a light humming began.

“Fucker,” you jeered and the previous gentleness dissipated.

“Shut up,” he ordered, pinning you back onto the bed and resumed his ministration on your breasts.

The moan slipped past your lips at the sight and your chest heaved upwards, desperate for more stimulation. You licked your lips at how his mouth encased your nipple, his tongue flicking against the perked skin and you dropped your head back, shutting your eyes. You centered all of your attention anywhere that his bare skin touched your body and rubbed your aching clit against his v-line.

Your chest was pressed against the mattress before you could register what happened and the hard smack that met your ass evoked a yelp. Bucky pressed fully against your backside and he ground his dick down into your ass. He groaned at the sensation and you raised your ass onto him. You yelped again when Bucky ripped your leggings down and smacked the exposed skin on your ass.

“Try something like that again and I’ll gag you around my cock ‘til you’re crying,” he growled, “Understood?”

You nodded, wide-eyed and a mewling mess from the threatening promise of this God.

“Good girl,” he cooed, rubbing at the raw skin. “Now stay still for Daddy,”

Bucky’s hand lingered on your reddening ass and the mattress dipped when he shifted to your side. He traced gentle circles onto your backside and pressed his lips on your shoulder blade, the butterfly kisses making their way down towards your spine and then lower. Your breathing grew uneven from the sheer amount of restraint you displayed. Your grip on the edge of the bed tightened when his tongue dragged from the point where your thigh and ass met all the way up to the bottom of your spine.

“Fuck,” You shuddered, white-knuckling the blanket beneath you.

Your skin blazed when you were met with another harsh slap. You mewled at the sensation, loving the fire that spread across your flesh and relaxed when his metal hand cooled the area.

Then his teeth bit into the cooling flesh and you jerked away despite yourself. Bucky tsked lowly and you chuckled at the hint of fear sprouting in your chest; you did not want to see whatever sinister expression resided on his face.

A strong hand gripped the roots of your hair and hauled you up. You followed his direction and knelt onto the ground between Bucky’s sprawled out legs, settling in your new position.

“Oh, Doll,” he chastised, “you were so close,”

“That shouldn’t count,” you retorted while Bucky pulled the blanket off the bed and lifted you up with his metal arm, shoving the barrier between your knees and the hard ground.

“But it does.” His hands dove into his underwear and sprung his cock out onto your lips. “Now get to work,”

Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you had to physically hold back from gulping. You were ashamed to admit your mouth watered in anticipation. You lifted your hands from his sculpted thighs and wrapped them around his length, enveloping just the tip past your parted lips. Bucky sighed and twitched in your mouth.

You welcomed him in fully, or as much as you could anyway, and got straight to work, not bothering to act abashed at your desire. Your tongue swirled around his tip and you leaned into him until he hit the back of your mouth but you continued on, gagging around him when he’d gotten inside your throat. Bucky groaned when your throat tightened around him and he threw his head back, using his flesh hand to guide you up and down his shaft, showing you what he liked and didn’t.

“Fuck, Doll,” he groaned, “Just how I imagined your mouth would feel,”

You pulled off him to comment when he shoved you all the way down to the hilt and you threw your hands up onto his thighs to hold yourself back. He used his metal arm to hold himself up and thrusted up into your salivating mouth desperately. He continuously hit the back of your throat and thick saliva coated his cock. Just as he promised, tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and he didn’t stop until your cheeks were drenched in the liquid.

You let your jaw hang open, your tongue no longer swiveling around meticulous spots that you knew would make his legs buckle. No, you let him have the reigns. Let him fuck your mouth ‘til your throat grew bruised and jaw ached with fatigue. You committed his cries of pleasure to memory, the sounds euphoric to your ears.

He lifted his head and stared down at you with half-closed eyes. He was in heaven and you knew it. He watched you, how the tears trailed down, how your hands gripped at his thighs, how you stuck out your tongue just as you’d made it to the base of his cock to lick his balls in the most intoxicating way. Fuck. You were the intoxicating one. You brought out this side of him. This carnal desire that became him until he’d had to step out of the room just to compose himself. And he didn’t like being out of control. That’s why he always kept you at an arm’s distance.

But now, watching as you sat between him with your mouth agape like the good girl that you were for him, he knew he’d never deny himself this pleasure again. Especially since you were so fucking good at it.

He groaned, pulling you off his cock and grabbed tightly at your cheeks, nearly pinching your mouth together. “Tongue out.” He growled, waiting for your compliance.

Your jaw ached with exhaustion but you managed to stick out the wet muscle as he pulled you closer into him and watched when he parted his lips above you, letting the saliva trail down from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow,” he ordered.

But it was already done, and you left your mouth hanging open for more.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky grumbled, putting his face right up against yours and feeding you once again; this time with a sloppy kiss that coated both your mouths in saliva.

He brought you up from the floor and tossed you onto the bed before settling between your legs. The excitement in your eyes grew and he indulged in every minute of it. Bucky’s hand trailed down from your lower abdomen right above your pubic bone and pressed his palm into your neglected clit. The cry you let out was the unholiest thing he’d ever heard.

He slid his finger under the waistband of your underwear and flitted his gaze back up to your eyes, “Can I?”

You nodded eagerly, dumbfounded that he would even ask and fought the temptation to grab your phone from the nightstand and record everything that was about to unfold.

At the first nod, Bucky slid your underwear down your legs and made a show of bringing the material up to his face. Your own went red hot and you hid behind your hands, poking through every millisecond to shamefully watch. He threw the panties into his open duffel and you squirmed in anticipation.

“Remember the rules?” Bucky asked, brow lifted and already descending to your inner thigh.

You nodded again.

“I need to hear it, Doll,” he mumbled, kissing the inner part of your thigh, each placement closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Yes,” you whimpered out, “I remember the rules,”

Bucky wanted to dive right in, he really did, but the way you sprawled yourself out so vulnerable for him, it incited a new pace that he wanted to follow. So, he did. He looked at you for a few moments, watched how the anticipation danced in your eyes, how your legs shook in wait and how you were already so goddamn wet for him.

“This all for me?” he teased, mesmerized at your desire for him.

You dropped a hand down to your side, near where his hands were wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place - and against his face. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for your answer.

You nodded sheepishly and when he lifted an eyebrow in mock confusion you said, “You. Just you,”

Like music to his ears. Just him. You weren’t for anyone else. He thought he felt his heart palpitate.

He lowered himself down to your core and kissed your lip, drawing a desperate plea from you. You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t deal with the teasing. You were wet enough, needy enough, ready enough to take him, all of him. You’d been ready damn near the moment you first laid eyes on his arrogant smirk.

“Buck - please,” you cried, drawling out the final word.

The first kiss placed upon your soaked cunt erupted a sigh of relief and you laid back on the pillow, your eyes closed and mind gone with the sensation of those sloppy kisses blessing your needs. He flattened his tongue on your lips and licked upwards, stopping when your hips twitched into his mouth.

“Sorry!” You apologized, fighting the desire to grind into his wet muscle. He’d just gotten started and you certainly didn’t want it to end so soon.

He lifted his gaze up to you and you bit into your fist at the view, using the extremity to hold back your moans. He flicked his attention down again and repeated his motion, lapping at your fluids ‘til his beard was soaked in it. He shook his head into your cunt and his nose rubbed along your clit. The mewling that left your mouth urged him on and when you felt his muscle prodding at your entrance you threw your head back.

“Please, Bucky.” You begged, bringing a hand up to tease your nipple.

He prodded some more, his tongue gliding up from your clit and back down to your entrance, poking through enough to frustrate you. He wanted you to break for him. To lose all composure and control and just let him. He wanted you to submit to him but it wasn’t just that, it was more that he wanted to destroy you for any future experience you may have without him. He wanted you to come back to him, to need him, to beg for him and leave you with the understanding that nothing - no one - could compare to him. He wanted you. To himself.

So, when he could no longer refrain and had to use his metal arm to hold your hips down from squirming beneath him, he slipped two thick, rough fingers into your begging cunt. And the sound you emitted caused that carnal instinct to claw at the barriers caging it in.

Your hand shot down, tangling itself into his hair and pushing him harder against you. He allowed it. Your thighs held him in place, crushing him with your soft skin and he groaned at the warmth you gave off. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and grabbed at his metal one resting on your pubic bone, pulling it up to your chest and wrapping his fingers on the sensitive bud for him to tease. He slowly retracted from your chest and brought it back down onto your hips and you huffed in annoyance. You looked down at Bucky but his eyes were shut, completely engrossed in the feast before him. You bucked when his fingers glazed across that sensitive spot inside your velvety walls.

“There!” You cried, your fist tightening in his hair when the all-too-familiar wave of ecstasy began to pool together, waiting for its release.

Bucky complied, dragging the pads of his fingers up against that spot over and over again. Your legs caged him in tighter as his tongue swirled over the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves and you cried out at the way your body tensed.

“Fuck,” you cried, your hands desperately grasping onto Bucky’s metal wrist and tugging at the roots of his hair. Bucky’s groan of pleasure was what tipped you over the edge.

You gasped when the pool building released, your body shaking with euphoria and the flood crashed down onto you. And apparently, onto Bucky as well. He pulled his mouth away but continued rubbing at your clit when warm liquid squirted onto his face and his expression of surprise mirrored your own.

When Bucky looked up at you, your face burned with embarrassment and you threw your head back, using your hand to cover your countenance. Not to mention the sight of him with your juices all over his mouth was one of the hottest things you’d ever witnessed.

Bucky chuckled at your sheepish apology and removed your hand from your face, bringing his soaked mouth up to yours and having you taste yourself. You devoured each other, your arms wrapped tightly around the other, pulling so fiercely at the innate desire to become one in shared pleasure. He could feel his pride swell at your hidden confession. You’d never squirted before and he was lucky enough to be the one to give you that experience for the first time.

You clawed at him, divulging in the warmth his body radiated and intoxicating yourself in everything that was Bucky. You couldn’t get enough of it, of him. It was nearly too much.

His hand trailed up to your gaping mouth and he inserted his fingers, “Clean them,” he ordered.

Your hand gripped his wrist and pulled his fingers deeper into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, loving the way he ate up everything he was seeing. You noticed the way he swallowed.

He retracted his hand and wrapped it gently behind your head so you were resting on him. He brought his full weight down onto your body and a warmth emanated in your chest when he brought his lips up against your forehead, each kiss closer and closer to your lips until they met their destination. When you parted your mouth against his, it wasn’t merely an action of carnal desire, it was like you were exchanging life forces. Merging and meeting in a manner that had your body exploding and crying out for more of the faint familiarity. Like seeing an old friend for the first time in years.

Bucky looked down between your bodies at where you were about to connect before staring back up at you, taking you in as if he would never have this opportunity again. His thumb brushed your cheek and came to a rest on your bottom lip. “Ready?”

You chuckled, “Fuck me,”

He shoved inside in one clean motion and a breath of pleasure slid past both of your lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand tightening slightly around your neck and he pulled out slowly then shot back inside and you moaned.

You were still so sensitive from your previous climax that every brush against your clit sent you into a whirlwind of pleasure, the sensations shooting through every nerve in your body.

“Bucky,” you whined when his pace quickened and the sheer force of his thrusts drove you deeper into euphoria.

He filled you just right, his girth and length impressive and you wondered why you hadn’t tried to screw him earlier. He slid past your tight walls, each thrust causing the room to echo with the sounds of skin slapping and moans of ecstasy.

He kept his actions controlled, not wanting to build up to something so intense just for it to fall short and end fast. No. Despite how good you felt wrapped around his aching and swollen cock, despite how warm and welcoming you were, how you spread yourself out for him to consume, he had to leash himself. This was going to be just as good for you as it was for him.

He kissed you one last time before gripping the back of your knees and bringing your thighs up to your chest, a shout of praise falling off your lips. He was drunk on the sight of his cock going in and out of your cunt and he threw his head back with a groan.

“What a fucking pretty pussy,” he breathed out and you whimpered, biting your lip at the welcome profanities.

At this angle, he was fucking against your g-spot and using his pubic bone to rub against your clit and watching the thin layer of sweat sheen off his skin was all too much to keep yourself put together. His eyebrows scrunched together and you caught him taking in your form, watching how your pleasure displayed itself on your face for him to bear witness to. Only him.

He growled at the intrusion of thoughts that came to him. He pictured someone else in his position, someone else witnessing you so vulnerable and open to them, someone else fucking you and making you beg for them. It disgusted him. He brought his torso down and latched his teeth to your neck, biting down hard enough to have you tearing up.

“Mine,” he growled into your ear and lulled his head forward when you tightened around him.

A sinister smirk came to his face and he licked the shell of your ear, your breathy moans feeding him, “You like that?” He asked, pistoling further into your cunt and you shouted at the increase of pace, “You like when I tell you who you belong to?”

Your mouth hung agape and the one arm wrapped around his shoulder pulled him closer to you, your desperation for his warmth taking control. “Fuck . . . off,” you hissed between breaths.

He pulled out and yanked you up by your hair, twisting you around and pressing your torso into the wall but keeping your ass propped up for him to admire. You hissed at the pain when a sharp smack met your ass and your hands gripped at the wall for any way to ground yourself and prevent from becoming putty in his hands.

Another hard smack met your ass and you lurched forward to get away from the sting. Bucky kept your head pinned to the cement, his hand holding your cheek from scraping the wall but applying a pressure that had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

You moaned at the intrusion in your pussy and he plummeted in and out, a mix of your grunts and groans bouncing around the room. His pace constantly changed. One second it was fast, the next it was slow but filling, going so far as to hit your cervix a few times and leave you a crying mess under his hold. Your shoulder scraped along the wall and you fought to push away only to have your chest slammed harder against the cement.

You brought a hand out, reaching behind yourself and grasping for Bucky’s hip, pushing him deeper into you when he slowed. Your nails dug into his flesh and the sound of his hiss shot straight to your core.

“What a goddamn whore,” he spat, bringing his teeth down onto your neck and you gripped at his hair.

You laughed at his statement, “You’re the one that can’t get enough of this pussy. Why so desperate to claim it? Afraid I'll fuck someone else?” Bucky pulled you back and slammed you against the wall with vigor, causing you to flinch

He stopped his thrusts altogether, “My patience only goes so far, Doll,” he threatened, tugging at your hair and you bit back a cry, “Choose your words wisely,”

You nodded hastily, the rough texture of the wall digging into your cheek and splitting skin. You wriggled up against him to continue moving but he retracted completely and flipped you over so he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him.

“Move,” he ordered, his hands digging bruises into your waist.

You leaned over, pressing your chest against his to lift your hips up and down on him but he pushed you back up and held your arms behind your back to keep you in place. You whimpered but the cry quieted when you rubbed your clit against him and your pussy clenched at the friction. You moaned out a breathy fuck and swiveled your hips around his, noting how much deeper he filled you in this position.

“Buck-” you huffed, eyes glued to the glistening abs beneath you. “I’m gonna cum,”

“Already?” He jeered, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

You’d lost all energy to sneer at him, your focus solely on how the sensation grew and began pooling in your cunt. “Cock . . . so good,” you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself from melting into him.

“What was that, Doll?” He stilled your movements and you groaned in annoyance.

You wriggled in his hold and you could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was fighting to keep control as well. You leaned over him, your lips hovering over his, “Mine,”

His grip flew to the back of your neck and he crashed your lips onto his, giving you full reign again. You bounced your hips on his dick, slamming down vigorously and rubbing your clit in effect. It didn’t take long for your climax to build again.

“’M gonna . . .” you whispered and Bucky placed you back up, gripping your hips and swiveling you around how you were earlier.

“Cum, Doll,” he allowed, “Cum all over this cock,”

You cried out, your toes curling as the dam in your core snapped and your climax washed over you. You hadn’t realized your fingers were intertwined with Bucky's until you came back down from your high, your chest heaving for breath.

He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against your neck. “You’re beautiful,”

Your body tensed at his words and you pulled away to give him a look of confusion. But he didn’t take his statement back, only slipped his hands around your back and gently placed you onto the bed, hovering over you.

He moved with caution, like his gentleness might scare you off if he touched you too tenderly or stared too long in admiration. But he couldn’t help it, he did admire you.

He spread your legs open and nestled between them, pushing into you slowly until your hips met and you both breathed out. His movements weren’t nearly as brutal as they were earlier, these thrusts were slow and deep and full of intention. He brought his torso down onto yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

He ran his hand, the only one he allowed himself to touch you affectionately with, through your hair and stared down at you, waiting. His gaze shifted between your lips to your eyes and he ran his thumb delicately along your mouth.

You looked at him then, really looked at him with fresh eyes and your heart leapt into your throat at the realization. “Kiss me,” you whispered and he lowered himself onto your lips, setting off an explosion in your chest.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, not able to bring himself to look at you, “I’ve been yours,”

You opened your mouth to respond but he silenced you with a deep thrust and a moan erupted instead. He quickened his pace, watching where you connected and pushed deeper and harder, your cries of pleasure driving him. He had to fuck you, he couldn’t love you, he couldn’t make love to you, just fuck. That’s it. He couldn’t allow himself to replay your look of shock at his confession, though the scene would surely be on loop for the next few days until he could get over it. Just fuck. Nothing more. Not with that look of disbelief on your face.

He held himself up with his forearms but you pressed him against you and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Harder,” you whispered and he complied.

He groaned when your tits bounced and brought his mouth to a nipple, the faint taste of sweat lingering on your skin. You brought his metal hand up to your chest and made him grip the flesh there but he pulled it back and placed it beside your head instead.

“Bucky,” you whimpered and grabbed his hand again, bringing his open palm up to your lips and placing delicate kisses on the metal. “You can feel with it, right?”

He nodded, hesitance sprawled on his face.

“Then touch me,” you urged, bringing the hand down between your bodies and pressing the cold metal against your clit, “Feel me,”

His brows furrowed slightly but the look of your certainty forced him to dismiss his own perceptions of his body; or rather, that arm. And when he began rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves the expression on your face made him hate it a little less. Only a little.

You stared up at him, his pace growing erratic and sloppy and you knew he was close. “You wanna cum?”

He nodded, his hot breath coming out haggard and strained. You placed your hand on his cheek and brought him up to your kiss.

“Then cum,”

He shook his head, “You first,” he swirled his finger around your swollen clit and you gasped at the force of his thrust.

Your body tensed and you centered all your focus on his ministrations, “A little more pressure,” you directed and he quickly found a pressure that had you wobbling in the knees. “Close,” you murmured, gripping Bucky’s side and bringing your lips up to his neck to pepper the skin there.

He groaned and judging by the way his dick twitched inside you, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Bucky,” you whispered, pulling his attention towards you and his gaze brought you closer to the edge, “I’m yours,”

He blinked and his pace faltered for half a beat. He examined your facial expression, like he didn’t believe the words you’d spoken. Not like he couldn’t believe them, but like you’d said them just to appease him.

You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to center yourself in the haze of this fucking. “Yours,” you repeated, all the emotion residing in your chest poured into the singular word.

And then he was back to drilling you into the mattress, a new vigor fueling his thrusts. You cried out and Bucky pressed his sweaty torso flat against your own and it felt like the essence, the being, in your chest intermingled with his own and all the climaxes you’d previously experienced couldn’t hold a match to the flame, the intensity, the rawness of the one that washed over the both of you in that moment.

Bucky moaned out, his hips bucking into yours and you rode out both of your highs. The sensation consuming and overwhelming and welcome on both ends as it flooded through your bodies, meeting at your point of contact.

His arms flexed above you with the ferocity of his climax and the display had you writhing beneath him, already desperate for more.

“Buck,” you whispered when his breathing evened out after he collapsed onto you.

He didn’t respond, afraid it had all been a dream, a trick, despite still being inside you. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to shatter the perfection of this moment. What if you’d only said that to get him to finish faster? What if you’d only fed him what he wanted to hear? What if-

“Buck,” you repeated, pulling him from his daze and he lifted his head only slightly. You gripped his chin lightly and forced him to look you in the eye. “You’re . . . mine?”

He wanted to shake his head, to tell you that he got caught up in the moment but instead he said, “Yours,” because he knew anything else would be a lie and he was tired of lying.

You studied him and nodded, “Yours,” you stated, already rolling your eyes from the smirk forming on his face, “Unfortunately,”

He brought your face to his and planted a tender kiss on your lips. He started shifting his position and grabbed the underwear he’d been wearing earlier before pulling out and using the cloth to clean the mess pooling out of you. But not before taking a mental picture, of course.

After a few minutes of laying together, his hand playing with a few strands of hair, you felt the warm welcome of sleep beginning to drag you into its embrace. You opened your eyes groggily and looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I know about your night terrors,” you whispered and his actions halted momentarily before returning to brush through your hair, “I hear you sometimes. And I understand why you don’t want to go to sleep but,” you sat up slowly and placed the thick blanket down on the floor, dragging the pillow down with you and patting the open space beside you, “you should rest. I’ll be here to calm you or stay up with you. Whichever one you need,”

He didn’t move at first, his ears drowning out any thought he could have while processing what you’d said. He’d stayed silent so long you’d thought you’d crossed a line.

“I can always sleep on the bed if you’d prefer, though,”

Bucky shook himself from his thoughts and edged closer to the floor, slowly descending into the available space and wrapping the blanket around the both of you as much as he could. “No,” he said, “I want you here,”

You hummed in response and snuggled into his waiting arms, lightly wrapping your own around him, making sure to kiss the part of himself he hated the most before fatigue swept you up into its clutches. Bucky followed soon after.

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lunar-years · 2 years ago

Text

It's a Long Night When You Do it On Your Own

Pairing(s): Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler; in my mind this is background Will/Mike also, but it's so background I've left it very open ended for you to interpret as you'd like!

Rating: T (Mainly for Lonnie reasons- domestic violence, child abuse, homophobia. Lonnie does not physically appear in the story but he haunts the narrative.)

Summary: After Jonathan gets a concerning phone call, he and Nancy take an unexpected trip back to Hawkins to help pick up the pieces.

Written for @jancyweek2022 Day 5: stay with me until i fall asleep/family

A/N: Title is from Maisie Peters' "Take Care of Yourself" which is a beautiful song that so perfectly suits Jonathan and Nancy & this prompt. I highly recommend listening to the acoustic version on youtube!

This was inspired by a post I saw a while ago questioning how much Nancy actually knows about Lonnie in canon. In my opinion...not much. I imagine she learns the full extent very slowly, over a long period of time, and this is sort of an exploration of what that might look like.

It's a bit of a longer one so I recommend reading on Ao3 but you can also read below!

The phone starts ringing again at 8:05, and Nancy audibly groans, her lips still pressed against Jonathan’s even as he starts to pull away from her. “No, don’t answer it babe—” she tries to protest, one hand stretching out after him as he untangles their legs and begins to stand. It’s no use. Jonathan’s never not going to answer that damn phone.

He shrugs at her apologetically but doesn’t allow himself to be pulled back towards the couch, too busy walking away from her to the phone in their kitchen. “Sorry, sorry. It might be my family,” he says as he goes. His usual explanation.

Nancy groans again, purposefully exaggerated, calling after his retreating back, “Tell your brother and sister they really can survive one night without calling you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grins, “I’ll be sure to remind them.”

“Also tell them that your girlfriend has a very special evening night planned and if you’re not back over here kissing her senseless with your hand up her shirt again in five minutes flat she’s keeping you here all Christmas so you can make up for it!”

Jonathan pauses in the doorway to laugh, shaking his head back at her fondly. “Okay, well I’m definitely not telling them all of that.” But when the phone shrieks out another ring, she’s pleased to see he turns back to it with a new expression of mild regret.

Once he disappears, Nancy slumps back against the sofa to wait, trying very hard not to feel at least a little bitter. This is their first evening alone together all week, and they’ve still barely had a minute to themselves. First it was Max, calling her to ask for advice about starting birth control—which had obviously turned into a long conversation. Then it was her mom, calling to make sure they were still driving home for Thanksgiving next weekend as planned, yes of course Mom, nothing’s changed. After that, Cathy and Elliott, Jonathan’s friends from a photography workshop he took last semester, inviting them over for another game night. No I think we’re just going to stay in tonight, but thank you for the invite!

They’d only just had enough time in between the incessant calls to take the short trip down the street for their favorite Chinese take-out, come back to the apartment to eat it, and finally, finally get around to the fun part of the evening—and now this. God knows who’s calling, but Jonathan’s prediction probably isn’t too far off. It’s been a whole two days since the Byers’ last phone call, so they’re long overdue.

The apartment they share together is extremely small, the rent exorbitantly high, and the walls paper thin. Nancy listens half-heartedly as Jonathan answers the phone. “Hello? Oh, hey bud. Look, I’m a little busy right now—” Will. Nancy applauds Jonathan’s effort, but she also recognizes a lost cause when she hears one. Her five-minute warning is all but meaningless; Jonathan will talk to his brother all night if Will needs him to. She half considers picking up the remote and fighting with their horrible, secondhand television to try and flip to a decent channel, but then Jonathan’s voice grows suddenly sharper. “Whoa—what?! Slow down.”

He sounds panicked.

Nancy sits up straighter on the sofa, pulling her bra strap back up onto her shoulder, running her hand down her skull n a poor attempt to tame her mangled hair, now that Jonathan’s been running his fingers all through it. Thoughts of the television, and her regrets at this call interrupting an evening of sex, are already forgotten. She listens carefully to her boyfriend’s half of the conversation, his words coming out firm, alert. The way they sound when he’s talking Will through a panic attack, or a bad nightmare that turned into a panic attack. But usually those calls come in the middle of the night, not at eight o’clock. Shit.

“Okay…Okay…Where’s Mom?...All right, well can you call her?...Listen to me, just breathe, bud. Breathe. It’ll be all right, yeah? You’ve just got to calm down a bit with me, okay?”

This must be really bad, if Jonathan’s willingly trying to involve Joyce. Nancy shuts her eyes, resting her forehead against her palm. Shit. “Good. That’s good…Look, can you hang up with me and call Mrs. Wheeler and ask her to come over?...Well, you don’t have to tell her any of the details, Will. Just the general overview…Just until Mom gets home, yeah?” Nancy’s head shoots up. Jesus, it must be fucking catastrophic if he’s involving her mother.

Her mind immediately jumps to the worst possible things known to happen in Hawkins, and she has to wonder if someone has died. Has another gate, somehow, impossibly, opened up again? It’s been years. She’d finally thought it was over, once and for all. A still familiar fear grips her chest. Maybe she should be collecting up her guns right now, dusting them off. The thought is so overwhelming it almost makes her feel physically ill, cutting off the air to her lungs so she can’t breathe, like she’s about to have a panic attack of her own. But no, she can’t do that. Jonathan, despite his sometimes insistence otherwise, can only keep one person from falling to pieces at a time.

The rest of the conversation in the kitchen floats over her, short but firm. “Yes, I know, but I’m hours away, bud…You’ve got to call Karen, okay?” Jonathan’s next words are muffled, but they sound a lot like might need a hospital, and Nancy’s fingers nervously start playing with the hem of her sweater just to have something to worry between them. Then he says, “Okay, good. I love you too.”

She hears the click of the receiver and stands up. Then, a beat of silence before Jonathan’s back in the room, his features drawn tight and that strange, distant look in his eyes that Nancy hasn’t seen in a long time. It’s never long enough to forget it, though. The first time she saw that look on Jonathan’s face, they were sixteen, and he was choosing between child-sized coffins at a funeral home. Something is horribly, terribly wrong. “What is it?”

Jonathan just blinks at her, like he’s forgotten she’s even here, in the apartment she lives in. The apartment they share. Nancy’s stomach drops as he says, “I have to go home.”

“What is it?” she repeats, mind still swimming with a number of horrible possibilities, wondering if she’s still got a pack of bullets or if she used them all up last time. “Is it the Upside Down? Is there another gate?”

He just stands there with that faraway look in his eyes, like he didn’t hear her question at all. Nancy walks towards him and reaches out to take his hand, but Jonathan flinches away from her. It’s the first time that’s happened in years, too. She recoils even as he starts immediately apologizing. “Sorry—sorry,” he croaks, “Nothing like that. It’s…um.”

Nancy reaches out again, more slowly, and laces their fingers together. This time, Jonathan lets her. She waits. Then he says, “It’s my dad.”

Well, that explains the flinching, anyway. Nancy tightens her hold on him. If whatever’s going on involves that asshole, it’s practically the same as having to fight another Demogorgon, if not worse. She hasn’t out ruled collecting the guns.

“He found out about Will,” Jonathan says in a rush. Nancy doesn’t need to ask what exactly Lonnie found out about his youngest son. The answer is abundantly clear from the look on Jonathan’s face. Fuck.

“Oh my god, is Will hurt?”

Jonathan shakes his head. “He’s shaken up pretty bad, but—not him. It’s Hopper.”

That’s hardly any better. Personally, she was hoping for no injuries. Or, in a best case, one very catastrophic, even lethal injury, naming Lonnie its sole victim. “What?”

The slicing tone of her voice must cut through to him, because Jonathan seems to come to life then, blinking the strangeness out of his eyes and setting into motion all in a great rush. Nancy has to do a trot to keep up with him as he strides toward their bedroom, already pulling open his drawers and throwing clothes on his bed to pack. “He’s passed out in the driveway.”

“He—? Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

Nancy shakes herself, trying not to think about what Lonnie could have done to take down Jim Hopper. She never exactly envisioned Lonnie to be all that great of a fighter, since his usual opponents of choice always seemed to be his two young sons. But Hopper? That man survived a Russian gulag. So what the fuck happened?

She doesn’t allow herself much time to think about the possibilities, already crossing over to her closet and pulling down a few skirts. She tosses them on the bed beside Jonathan’s clothes.

“What are you doing?”

Nancy pauses in choosing between her jean jacket with the sherpa lining and the jean jacket with little embroidered stars on the elbows to look pointedly at her boyfriend. When have they ever let one another go monster hunting alone? “What do you think I’m doing? I’m coming with you, stupid.”

Jonathan blinks at her again, like she’s a deer in the headlights who came out of nowhere out onto the road. Nancy rolls her eyes and returns to her closet. She decides on the jacket with sherpa. Extra warmth and that.

“You don’t have to do that,” his voice says gruffly to her back. “You’ve got two exams next week, and…”

“Your family’s in trouble, we’re going.”

“I appreciate it, Nance, but—”

It’s only when Nancy spins around to glare at him again that he finally shuts up.

***

They’re 18 miles down the highway before they really talk again. Jonathan’s been practically mute since they packed their suitcase and shoved it ungracefully into the trunk of his car. He is definitely driving over the speed limit, but it’s not too fast to be properly dangerous, so Nancy doesn’t mention it.

His knuckles are bone-white against the steering wheel.

Nancy can’t remember ever being in a car with Jonathan with no music playing, but now they drive for forty-six minutes in complete silence before Nancy simply can’t take it anymore. She leans forward to rifle through the small cassette collection they keep stored in the console. “Can we put a tape on?”

He nods, eyes locked on the road ahead like he’s trying to convince it, through sheer willpower, to speed past them faster. “Sure, whatever you want,” he says dismissively.

Nancy drops the tape in her hand, a Joy Division, and spins to face him. To hell with it.

“I want you to stop blaming yourself for whatever happened happening,” she says determinedly, hoping this will finally be the time her words stick. She’s tried many times before.

Jonathan just blinks. “I’m not—”

“You are.” Softer, she continues, “But this wasn’t your fault.” Most of what you blame yourself for isn’t your fault. “It’s all right that you weren’t there.”

Jonathan takes one hand off the wheel to swipe at his eyes. “Will didn’t sound well on the phone,” is all he says.

Nancy sighs. She puts on the Joy Division.

***

Even after years of dating Jonathan, she knows very little about Lonnie Byers, beyond him generally being a complete and total piece of shit. Most of what she does know are things Jonathan hasn’t even told her, the bits of town gossip once passed around her family’s dinner table like salt. Her mom sighing out what a shame it was that Lonnie Byers would up and leave behind two young children: Isn’t it just awful? Her dad replying, Well what do you expect Karen? The man’s a drunk. Hasn’t made a moral decision in his life. Course, if I was married to Joyce Byers, maybe I’d be a drunk too. Mom shooting daggers at him. Joyce had a black eye at Melvald’s last week, you know. She tried to cover it with makeup, but I could tell. Nancy can’t remember what her father said to that. Probably, Michael, finish your peas.

She watches Jonathan watching the road and wishes she could drum up all the right words to say to him. Somehow, when she’s the one freaking out, about her family, or her future, or the memories that come back to haunt her in middle of the night, he always knows what to say.

The most Jonathan’s ever talked about Lonnie was that very first week, when he confessed to her that he’d been the one to teach him to shoot, and had made him kill that rabbit. That same day, he’d told her Lonnie had once loved Joyce, or he thought so, anyway. Nancy wonders how anyone could go from love to black eyes, to a son who follows up any mention of your name with, he’s an asshole; who refuses, by and large, to refer to you at all.

Once, about a year ago, after she and Jonathan stumbled home from a party neither one of them had really wanted to attend that ended in both of them having way more fun and getting far drunker than intended, Jonathan brought him up. They were eating leftover pizza from the fridge and drinking waters, which they had at least had the wherewithal to determine they needed to switch to before dropping off to bed. It wasn’t the first time Nancy had been that drunk, but it was for Jonathan.

He was at a giggly, silly, perfectly content level of drunkenness, which was Nancy’s favorite stage. After coming up from a bout of seemingly endless giggles, though, things had gotten more contemplative. Jonathan turned to her, the ghost of the laugh of seconds before still written across his face, and admitted, this isn’t how I thought it’d feel, being drunk.

No? What did you think it’d feel like?

I was afraid I’d finally understand him.

Him?

Dad. You know, he would yell all the time, shove us around, maybe, but he wouldn’t start throwing the real punches unless he was sickeningly drunk. I thought maybe I’d have it, too. He’d gestured nonsensically at the air. The anger. There was a short pause in which Jonathan finished the last slice of pizza, shook himself a little. Then he said, Do you want to listen to the Clash?

Even drunk, Nancy had wanted to scream at him that he couldn’t just say something like that and then move on like it was nothing. All she managed to choke out was, Did he do it a lot? Throw the real punches, I mean?

Jonathan waved her off, already shuffling through his records, somehow, impossibly, not tired at all. Don’t worry, Nancy. The important thing, Nance, is that he never got Will.

Four hours into the drive, Nancy makes him pull into a rest stop so they can switch places. At the very least, she’s not going to let him drive to the point of exhaustion.

***

They make it to Hawkins in record time, and are in front of the Byers-Hopper residence by 9:45 the next morning. Jonathan lets them in the side door. No sooner have they entered the living room before El’s in front of them.

“Jonathan!” she cries, flinging her arms around her brother. He drops his bag immediately to pull her into a tight hug. El draws away long enough to repeat the gesture with Nancy.

Nancy loves coming home to the Byers-Hopper clan. The reception she gets here is more enthusiastic than if she were Queen of England. It’s the exact opposite of what she gets coming home to her own parents’ house, where she’s lucky if Mike comes upstairs from the basement long enough to mutter ‘hello’ at her, and her father reluctantly rises from his recliner only to make a judgmental comment about her clothes, or the size of her weekend bags, or the way she’s done her hair. Here, she never feels like she has to pass muster.

When El’s arms leave her, they’re replaced almost immediately by Joyce’s. She’s swatting both her and Jonathan’s shoulders and saying, “You guys should not have driven home for this! Hop is fine, we’re all fine. You have exams!”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Jonathan reassures her, waving a hand dismissively at her fretting gestures, “we wanted to come.” He’s already looking over her shoulder at the couch, where Nancy can see the slouched form of Jim Hopper. She can’t deny that she’s relieved to find him in one piece, looking mostly unscathed but for a jagged cut splitting his right eyebrow, deep enough to warrant a row of neatly spaced, purple-threaded stitches. El’s returned to her spot beside her father, hand woven immediately back into his. Will, Nancy notes, isn’t in the room at all.

“What the hell happened?” Jonathan asks, stepping towards Hop. Nancy notices that both of his hands are shaking, now that they no longer have the steering wheel to cling to. She reaches forward to cup one of his palms between both of her own.

Normally, Hopper would probably make some sarcastic remark here. Nancy can practically hear it. But he must see the same franticness Nancy does in Jonathan’s eyes, because he’s quick to reassure. “Just a scratch, kid, just a scratch. Nothing to drive across state lines for, Jesus. I’m not worth all that.”

Jonathan crosses his arms, bending over to more closely examine Jim’s cut. “That’s a dozen stitches at least,” he observes dryly. “Near your eye.”

Hopper shrugs, “Better near than on. Could’ve been worse. Your old man’s got a decent throw.”

“Will said you passed out.”

“My own fault. I broke the golden rule of policing: never turn away from an armed assailant. Thought I’d finally convinced that fucker to go away; beer bottle caught me when my back was turned. Went down from the shock more than anything. And Will exaggerated. I was only passed out for a minute.” He shrugs, like the whole event was no big deal. Like he’s willing them to believe this is not a big deal.

Nancy can tell Jonathan clocks it immediately from the way that his shoulders dip. Her boyfriend is well adept himself at trying to minimize the concern of others. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Only then does Hopper’s voice rise. He tries to stand too, but Joyce pushes him back down. “Now listen. I neverwant you to apologize for that man, you hear me?”

Jonathan’s breathing is heavy. He doesn’t answer, but instead turns to his mother to ask, “How’s Will?”

Now that she’s got over the initial shock of seeing them, Joyce’s face is drawn. Nancy wonders if they’ve been up all night, sitting in this living room looking at each other. Maybe wondering if Lonnie would dare come back for another round. She sounds utterly exhausted when she says, “In his room. Resting.”

They do nothing but stare at each other for a long beat, having some silent conversation mother to son. Then Joyce continues, “I’m sure you both are exhausted. You didn’t drive through the night, did you?” It’s obvious that that’s what they’ve done, to get here this early. “Bed, both of you. El sweetheart, maybe you should go up too, none of us slept much last night, did we? Then, tonight we’ll all—well, we’ll all catch up!” It’s too forcibly cheerful for the situation. Nancy doesn’t miss how Joyce’s smile is pinched at the corners.

Jonathan opens his mouth like he wants to say something more to her, but then he just shuts it again, moving to collect their bags and lead Nancy up the stairwell.

Joyce and Hopper have a new house, now. Still on the outskirts of the town, by the woods, but bigger than the Byer’s old home and Hopper and El’s cabin, put together. They have a room set up for Jonathan, even though he hasn’t stayed in it for more than a few nights since their first summer of college. Jonathan drops their bags in the room, then turns to her. “I’m going to go check on Will,” he tells her softly. Nancy nods, and watches his retreating back as he disappears down the hall. She know he won’t sleep until he’s seen Will for himself, verified he’s still alive and breathing.

She waits up for him, laying on her usual side of the bed between unfamiliar sheets and staring at the window, a bright square of light that can’t quite be dimmed by the thin curtains. She can see through them right into the backyard, which is settling in beneath the morning sun. The light drapes the grey room with a yellowness that seems almost eerie, considering how much it feels like midnight, in every sense but the time on the clock.

He’s gone for at least an hour before finally he crawls in beside her. Nancy feels warmer immediately, even before she’s pressed herself against him, before Jonathan’s arms lace around her, pulling her in flush to his chest. She breathes in the scent of his shampoo—some 2-in-1 coconut thing that’s the cheapest option at their corner drugstore. It smells like home. For some reason she feels a little bit like crying. “How is he?” she whispers to the half-darkness.

Jonathan nestles into her neck, speaking mostly into her hair as he says, “He thinks it’s his fault.”

Hmm, who does that remind you of? she thinks. But Nancy doesn’t say it. She pulls his hand to her chest and laces their fingers together. Squeezes once, twice, as many times as it takes until Jonathan squeezes back.

“He’ll be okay,” she says softly, “He’s got a good support system.”

He says nothing back for so long she thinks he might have fallen asleep, but then Nancy feels him start to shake. It’s a jerky, rigid movement, like he’s trying hard to suppress it. She feels a dampness at the nape of her neck, and it’s so foreign coming from him that it takes her a moment to realize what’s happening. Jonathan’s crying.

“Oh babe.” She lets him go long enough to turn herself around so she’s back against her pillow before pulling his head down to her chest. He wraps his arms around her waist like she’s a lifeline, and then she strokes his hair and lets him cry harder.

Now that he’s started, he doesn’t seem to be able to stop. It’s no matter, Nancy has the time. She holds him closer, whispering nonsensical words she hopes are at least a little soothing. Jonathan has done this countless times for her before, wrapped her tight and let her cry out her sorrows, and Nancy has returned the favor in a million small ways. But she’s never borne witness to Jonathan weeping, in all the years she’s known and loved him. He’s never let her.

They lie there just like that until Jonathan has run out of tears. Then he whispers, voice hoarse, “We’re never going to escape him,” in such a lost, devastated tone that it snaps Nancy’s heart straight in two.

She runs a gentle finger along the curve of his ear. It doesn’t take a genius to work out who he means, but Nancy asks anyway. “Lonnie?”

He nods against her. “Someone saw them kissing behind the school. Then all of a sudden, our dad knows. Lonnie’s still got friends here. After everything he did…”

His voice breaks, so Nancy finishes for him. “It’s disgusting. They’re all disgusting, all the people that defend him even after what he did to you—”

“To my mom and Will,” Jonathan corrects. He doesn’t even sound angry, just…defeated.

But it’s okay, because Nancy can have enough anger for the both of them. “To you,” she repeats, leaving no room for argument, “and to them. Both. You don’t have to give me the details—ever, if you don’t want to—but I know he hurt you, too.” She strokes his hair again until Jonathan shudders, then finally relaxes. He doesn’t try and argue with her this time.

After a while, he drifts off to sleep against her, probably out of pure exhaustion. Nancy knows she needs to sleep too. They’ve been awake an unbearably long amount of time; surely, her body will give out soon. But at the moment, her mind refuses to stop reeling from how much she would like to kill Lonnie Byers with her bare hands for what he did to this boy, her favorite person in the world, and his family (which happens to be her favorite too).

She lays awake for some time afterward, thinking of Joyce patting her cheek in greeting, of the cheerful, happy beam that’s been a near-permanent feature on Will’s face in the past year or so, ever since allowing himself to live as his truest self. She hates that his own dad could take that away, that anyone could want to hurt any of the people under this roof. The devastation of it burns inside of her until at long last, sleep pulls her under.

***

When she wakes, it’s to empty sheets and the sound of quiet humming coming from downstairs. Nancy gets herself up and pulls open their bags, quickly changing into clean sweatpants and one of Jonathan’s sweaters from the top of their clothes pile. Then she pads her way through the hallways and down the stairs, to see how she can help.

It’s only El in the kitchen, stirring something on the stovetop and bopping her head to rhythm of the song she’s humming, Nancy vaguely recognizes it as something Madonna. “Hey,” she says in greeting, and El jumps about a foot into the air, nearly dropping the spoon.

“Oh! Hi, Nancy.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

El shoots her a conspiratorial smile, “I’ve been scared by much worse.” She’s grown a lot in the last year, even more since the last time Nancy’s seen her. El’s as tall as Nancy now, and healthier than she’s ever been, now that she only gets to use her powers for such mundane things as picking up the spoons she drops and turning on fans without the switch. She’s happier, too.

“Where are the others?” Nancy asks, leaning against the counter and watching as El once again begins to stir.

El frowns. “Well, Jonathan and I started the garlic bread, but then I remembered we didn’t actually have bread, so Joyce went out to get some! Will went to pick up Mike.”

Nancy sighs. She was kind of hoping none of her family would learn she’s in town, so she wouldn’t have to cram in time to see them all. But it’s Mike, so of course she should have expected it. It will probably be easy to convince him to keep the info from their parents, at leats but it’ll be harder sell to get him to not tell Holly.

“Oh,” El continues, “And Dad and Jonathan went outside to talk. I do not think they wanted me there.” She dips her head in gesture towards the small window above the kitchen sink, and Nancy shuffles close enough to look out.

Sure enough, Hopper and Jonathan are sitting on the steps of the back porch. Hopper’s got an arm reached out, a hand tousling Jonathan’s shoulder, so it must be going well enough. That’s good. Nancy doesn’t want to admit it, but she’d been a little worried how that would shape out. Jonathan’s relationship with Hopper, even though it’s been years since he and Joyce got together, is still somewhat tentative.

It's nothing Hopper’s done, it’s just…who her boyfriend is. He doesn’t let anyone in easily, but once you’re in, you’re in. She watches as Jonathan laughs at something and shakes his head at Hop. On the drive here, he had been worried about Will, yes, But Nancy knows he’d been worried about Hopper, too. She turns back to El. “What can I do to help?”

“Set the table?” El says, “Oh, and can you pass me the parsley?”

They work alongside each other preparing the dinner in companionable silence. Then out of nowhere, El says “I’m sorry you had to drive here.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth in the anxious way she does sometimes. “Joyce and I were at the movies. If I had been here, I would have handled it. Then Dad wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and Will wouldn’t have panicked, and Jonathan wouldn’t have had to worry.”

God, was it every member of this family who blamed themselves, even in situations where every indicator pointed very clearly towards a single man at blame? She sets down the last napkin and moves back into the kitchen so she can look at El directly. “Jonathan worries no matter what, I assure you.” She offers a small smile and waits for the younger girl to return it.

“Too much, Dad says,” El eventually sighs. “Joyce, too.”

Nancy frowns. “They’re right. But there’s no changing him. And anyway, I love him for it.” She did. It was one of the things that had endeared her to Jonathan even before they’d officially become friends. His love for his family was the axis on which his entire world spun.

“I think it’s good that I wasn’t here, probably,” El adds, turning back to the pasta now boiling on the stove. Nancy raises an eyebrow at her. “Dad says I’m not allowed to kill people anymore.”

She says this so plainly that Nancy immediately bursts into laughter, which sets El to laughing, too. “It’s true! He told me this morning we’re just supposed to press charges against him for battery and assault, and maybe get a restraining order, like we’re normal people.”

This makes Nancy laugh even harder. “I thought about killing him last night,” she admits, “with one my guns.”

The grin she receives back is one entirely of approval.

They’re interrupted by Joyce returning with a loaf of bread and soon after by Will and Mike, the latter of whom greets her with a wave and no smile.

Nancy looks her little brother up and down. He looks very stressed out, bouncing on the balls of feet like he’s wasting time by just standing still, and he keeps shooting Will extremely unsubtle looks of concern, like he’s afraid the other boy will fall over at any minute.

The Byers and the Wheelers. What would they do without one another?

She moves forward to wrap him in a tight hug, and for once, Mike doesn’t even groan out a complaint.

***

Dinner is wonderful. Nobody talks about the gaping elephant in the room, which is the reason they are all here together in the first place. Instead, Hopper jokes with Mike and El tells her and Jonathan about an art project she’s working on in school. By the end, even Will, who was unusually quiet for most of the meal, even by his standards, has somewhat relaxed.

It feels like all meals with the Byers-Hopper family feel: warm. Nancy asks Will and Mike for updates on their college applications and Joyce if she’ll give her the incredible garlic bread recipe. She goes back for seconds of pasta, because even though she and Jonathan do a decent job of keeping themselves well-fed, their own meals never quite taste this good.

At some point, beneath the table, Jonathan’s foot loops around one of her own so their ankles are touching. It’s lovely.

When Joyce and Hopper retire early for the night, she and Jonathan stay up with the others and put on a film. It’s some horror thing Will and Mike are into, and Nancy ends up falling asleep on Jonathan’s shoulder thirty minutes in. She’s promptly shaken awake and ushered up to bed as soon as the credits start to roll.

The kids stay behind, still high on the adrenaline of everything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours, but Will promises he’ll drive Mike home when the time comes and neither she nor Jonathan bother to try and figure out if that’s true or not. She can’t wait to be under the blankets and snuggled up against him again.

“Hey,” Jonathan whispers to her, lying, face to face this time, against their pillows.

“Hey.” After the chaos of the day, she soaks in this moment of just him. It’s the quiet, stolen seconds between them that keep her sane. It’s been like that for more than five years. God, is she lucky.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he says.

She would follow him anywhere, she thinks. To the moon, if he asked it of her. This is a much quicker turnaround. They’ll have to make the drive back on Monday in order to give Nancy at least a day to prepare properly for Wednesday’s exam. Thankfully, Nancy Wheeler prepares ahead; She’d started studying a week ago, so it will probably be okay. If not, well, this was more important anyway. “Family comes first,” she tells him. The ‘our,’ she hopes, is implied. Somewhere along the way, she’s stop distinguishing between his family and hers. He reaches a hand out to trace a finger along her eyebrow.

“Will seemed a bit better after we ate,” she says, thinking about the grin on his face when he’d held up his movie choice. He’d been solemn during dinner, but then he’d started to come back to himself talking with El and Mike.

Nancy’s come to know Will well, and she knows the similarities between the Byers brothers run deep. They both just get so…stuck in their own heads. It takes time, and persistence, and people around them they trust, to bring them back again.

“I’m not sure we can claim much of the credit for that.”

She thinks about the scene they’d left downstairs—all three of them laughing as Mike reenacted some ridiculous, gory death scene from the movie, and has to agree. “Maybe. But he only let them help after you helped him first, when you talked to him this morning.”

“You have too much confidence in me,” Jonathan says, but he does quirk a smile. “You don’t even know what I said.”

“Ah, but I’ve had my share of Jonathan Byers’ pep talks, so I know it was good.”

He cups the back of her head and pulls her in close enough to kiss her forehead.

***

The rest of the visit goes about as well as can be expected. El arranges a board game tournament and Joyce makes them all hot cocoas, which they sip gratefully as they play. Mike comes over again for this event, too, which is nice. Nancy doesn’t get the chance to come home very often, and no matter how much she loves the city and the small, happy life she’s building there with Jonathan, it’s the afternoons like these she misses most.

Hopper spends the second morning and afternoon at the police station, and that’s when Jonathan is most on edge. After she loses an infuriating round of scrabble to Mike, Nancy finds him sitting on thee pebbled steps leading up to the front door, eyes on the quiet street. She plops down next to him, takes his hand, and rests her head on his shoulder, just to cover all her bases.

He quirks a brow at her in feigned shock, “Wait, you lost?”

“Only because Mike’s memorized all the ‘q’ words,” Nancy tells him bitterly. Qaid is going to haunt her a few days, at least. “What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking.”

Nancy frowns, waiting for him to elaborate. He always tells her, eventually.

Sure enough it come minutes later. “I almost took the car this morning,” he confesses. “Before everyone woke up. I was going to drive to Indianapolis.”

Nancy stills. She doesn’t know exactly how that would have ended, but she can’t imagine it would have been anything good. “Jonathan….”

“I know, I know. I didn’t do it, did I?”

“Good. One, I care about bringing you home in one piece, you know. Two, if you do anything that reckless, you bring me along. That’s the deal.”

Jonathan shakes his head. “He usually runs out of steam after the first few hits.”

Her skin crawls with the implications of that statement. She squeezes his hand tighter. A breeze carries the leaves further across the path of the lawn.

She’s surprised when he continues, quiet and steady: “There was this one time, when Will was maybe…six? Mom was at work, and Dad was at the bar. One of his buddies had a kid in Will’s grade, a girl. So he was bragging to my dad all about her, the sports she was trying out for, the hikes they’d gone on, that sort of thing. You know Will…he was never like that.

Well, this guy must’ve said something to Dad, something like, ‘see that, Lonnie, I think they’ve switched it. I got the son and you got the daughter,' because Dad came home in a rage.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Completely wasted, you know…yelling for Will, calling him names. So I told Will to go hide and then I tried to go calm him down….”

Jonathan trails off, but it doesn’t take much to piece together what must’ve happened next. If Will was six, that puts Jonathan at all of nine or ten. Nancy can picture it: skinny, quiet, little Jonathan, standing between his father’s rage and his brother’s hideout.

“That’s the night I decided I hated him.” He gives a hollow, dull sort of laugh. “And look, all these years and he’s never given me a reason to stop.”

Nancy follows his line of sight down the street. Not a car has passed through since she came out here. “You don’t think he’d come back?” She asks tentatively.

Jonathan shakes his head.

She thinks of the person who saw the boys kissing in the schoolyard, who must’ve reported it to their own father, who then reported it to Lonnie. “And he wouldn’t…you know, tell?”

Nancy reads the newspapers, and she’s seen the headlines. Missing men, murdered men. She remembers, all too well, what everyone was saying when Will disappeared; all the rumors that swirled about what had most likely happened to him, and the jeering, unsurprised way the people in this town discussed it, like it was good riddance. Like a twelve year old boy could ever deserve something like that, just because of who he was. Even the memory of it is enough to bring a rush of bile to her mouth. The possibilities are always there, and the fear. She knows that it haunts Jonathan, too.

Another shake. “Nah. He thinks it’s his own personal shame, having a gay son. That’s probably why he showed up here in the first place, to make one last try at beating it out of him.” He sighs. “If Hopper hadn’t been here….”

“But he was,” Nancy reminds him. She will remind him of that no matter how many times it takes to sink in, do everything in her power to stop this impending spiral before it begins. “It’s not all on you anymore, Jonathan. Or even you and your mom. It’s all of us in it together, now.” She pats his knee and makes to stand. “Now come on, Will said we’re doing Pictionary next and I’ve still got time to convince him he should be on my team.”

"Wait...no way! Will's always with me."

***

The next morning, they sit in the driveway with their bags in the back for a good long moment before Jonathan starts up the car. Nancy starts to reassure him they’ll be back in a week, but then Will and El both come jogging out, racing to the car. Jonathan puts the car back in park as Will taps on the window.

When they roll it down, he says in rush, “Mom said to remind you you’re in charge of pies for Thanksgiving. One apple and one pumpkin—”

“No,” El huffs, “One apple and one pecan.”

“El, you’re the only one who likes pecan, it’s gross. We’re not having pecan.”

They argue back and forth for a minute until Jonathan interrupts. “Guys. Guys!” Two heads snap to attention. “If I’m making them, I’m choosing.”

“So apple and pumpkin,” says Will victoriously.

“Maybe I like pecan now.” His tone is elusive enough for Will’s face to fall. El smirks. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” they both say. Jonathan waits.

“Mom also says call when you get there. What else?”

“Don’t worry too much.”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry too much.” Will shoots them a final grin, then they’re both running back up the drive.

Jonathan rolls the window back up and lets out a breath. Relief, Nancy thinks. They'll be okay. Then he turns to her and smile. “Home?”

“Yes. Let’s go home.”

This time, they play music the entire way there.

#jancyweek2022 #Jonathan Byers #Nancy Wheeler #jancy #Jonathan x Nancy #otp: monster hunting #my fanfics #this feels kind of incomplete but im calling it 'not all fanfics have to be the best thing you've ever written katie' and clicking post #stranger things

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azc3nsion · 3 years ago

Text

in the eye of the storm

Rating: E (Explicit, 18+ only)

Warnings: Explicit, PwP, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, some Swearing, AU

Summary: His eyes were burning embers. Without either of you looking down, your palms found each other, fingers intertwining. The longer you tried to find answers in Zhongli's carefully controlled face, the warmer he grew where you were touching."What do you want, Zhongli?" You whispered. Thunder cracked outside, so loud it reverberated in your chest. He closed his eyes, but the light from within them bled through the cracks of his lids. He lifted a hand, brushed a kiss against the inside of your wrist. "You." He pressed out.

“Four rooms, please.” Zhongli said and crossed his arms.

The entrance of the Inn was crowded, more so than usual - Rain poured down outside, so dense you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face if you’d tried. Everyone in your party was drenched to the bone.

Liyue Harbor, your ultimate destination, was even further out of reach in these conditions.

Amongst the chattering crowd that had taken shelter here, you five were no different, except you intended to stay the night; wanting to make the most of the unexpected interruption.

The innkeeper gulped.

“Apologies, but we’re almost fully booked- There’s only one double room and the suite left, if you’d be okay with that?”

You paused in attempting to dry your hair and met Lisa’s eyes.

Only two rooms? Oh well, better than nothing...

Zhongli’s shoulders first went rigid - although probably not visible to the innkeeper - and then slowly lowered as he exhaled, forcing the irritation at the inconvenience down.

“We’ll take those, then.” He said, and you could hear the strain in his voice.

“The suite is extra.” The innkeeper shrunk into herselves further, as Zhongli continued to look at her.

His head twitched to the side, cracked his neck, and the innkeeper’s knuckles pushed at the skin of her fingers where they held onto the countertop.

"They're with me, Verr, dear." Ningguang spoke up, and both you and Zhongli stepped aside to let her through.

"Lady Ningguang-!" Verr Goldet stammered.

"Yes. Send the bill to the Qixing, if you will."

"O-of course, my Lady. Can I get you anything else? Warmed towels? Heated stones for the beds…?"

"We'll take two plates of seasonal fruit and a bowl of the chef's recommendations, each. Please deliver them to the rooms as soon as possible. Have baths and beds prepared, we’ve travelled far today and are weary."

"I'll see it gets done at once, my Lady."

Ningguang smiled, but it was one of her business-smiles. Those that looked like a cat that had just eaten the canary and was now insisting on its own innocence.

Your group lingered in the vicinity of the front desk until another maid appeared next to Ningguang’s elbow, taking back your towels while bowing, and then handed each of you another, fluffy-soft and deliciously heated one. With another bow she handed Ningguang a wooden token.

“Ah,” She said, nodding at the girl. She bowed again and moved away. “Our rooms are ready.”

Wrapped in the warm towels, your party slowly made its way towards the lift.

“I’m rooming with Lisa.” Ningguang spoke, a smaller, less terrifying smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes.

“Can Paimon room with you, too, please, please, please?”

The tiny creature floated towards the blondes, excitedly shaking her tiny fists.

You would have been slightly offended if the two women weren’t such a blessing when taking her off your hands, allowing you a moment of rest.

Paimon was giving them her best puppy eyes, and Lisa pinched one of her cheeks.

“Of course you can. Us Aunties will keep you safe from the evil lightning, yes?”

“Yes!” Paimon gasped, and clung to the Librarian’s arm immediately.

“If that’s alright with you two?” Ningguang asked quietly, her heavy eyes drifting from you to Zhongli.

“Sure…?” You, too, were looking at the tallest member of your party now. He was glaring at Ningguang - though he hadn’t done much else for the last hours - but here and now his frown indescribably won in intensity.

He’d been in a sour mood all day, snappier than usual; but it had needed Ningguang taking a long, calculating look at the clouds brewing in the far distance to deduce that there was a thunderstorm headed towards you, and a big one at that.

The revelation hadn’t improved his mood at all.

And now Ningguang wanted to stick him with you? Out of everyone in this current party, you’d have thought her to be the one most willing to put up with him.

Apparently you’d guessed wrong, if she chose a child and a small bed over his company.

But that was fine. You’d be fine.

Zhongli threw the keys for the second room at Lisa’s chest, and together you walked out under the sheltered walkway, towards the elevator.

“Ah, you go ahead; If I'm already here I might as well ask about their record of trade, it's late for this quarter and I want to make sure there won't be an issue further down the road.” Ningguang tapped a palm to her forehead and disentangled Paimon’s grubby little hand from hers.

Lisa called after her to not take too long or else she'd come to personally collect her, to which the businesswoman waved, and then the lift began to ascend.

Paimon and Lisa got off first, only one level above the reception, while Zhongli and you stayed on until the very top.

You’d never been this far up, not even when taking commissions from around the area.

It felt weird not to say anything, but then again you didn’t know what you could have said, and Zhongli’s shoulders were still tense, though the lines in his face had begun to smooth out. He turned his head, moments before a gust of wind blew through the open sides, and showered both of you in a spray of water. The smell of petrichor washed over you.

Zhongli’s fist by his side relaxed.

“You ever stayed in an extravagant spot like this?”

You asked, just to talk about something, after pushing the door open.

The room was huge, circular, and fitted with expensive, dark furniture. A bed took up a good chunk of the space, it’s covers and pillows neatly arranged.

Incense burned on a low table to the side.

“They used to build temples in my name.” Zhongli’s voice rang out from behind you, and you hopped aside to make room for him while undoing your boots’ lacing. “This room is… incomparable.”

You gave up on bending over and instead opted to simply sit down to tug off your shoes.

It was beginning to get very cold, with the leather and cloth thoroughly soaked and sticking to your skin at every inch, chafing uncomfortably in places.

Zhongli surprised you. After hanging his coat up to dry, he knelt down and gently but firmly pulled off your boots. One, and then other came loose under his hands, slid over your feet much easier than you would’ve managed.

You looked up at him, at a loss of words once more.

His eyes seemed to glow in the light of the candles lit throughout the space.

“But it is still a very nice place to stay.”

The ghost of a smile spread over his face, and at its sight, some of the anxiety inside you calmed down.

“There should be a bath attached,” He continued, rising to his full height and letting his gaze wander around. “Somewhere. Why don’t you go and freshen up, I’ll- Wait, for the food.”

“You sure?” You linked your hands around your knees, looking up at his face. “I could-”

But right when he met your gaze, an involuntary shiver ran down your back, and it had very much to do with your clothes sucking the warmth out of you worse than any cryo slime, heated towel or not.

He only needed to raise an eyebrow, and incline his head towards the wall behind you, and you grumbled before approaching the indicated spot.

A small handrail wound down a narrow staircase built into the floor, leading half a story down and ending at a shining, wooden door, inlaid with gold.

Behind it was a tiny room, with benches barely fitting into the space and two clay pots, which held garments spun so fine they felt like water made into fabric.

Chunks of crystals emitted a soft, dimmed light.

The bathroom behind the second door was filled with steam that hung between ceiling and ground.

The water was deep green and so wonderfully hot that your muscles relaxed as soon as you lowered your rear into it, even without using any of the scented oils standing to the side.

The cold was chased out of every crevice of your body, until you could feel all your fingers and toes again, until your skin turned sensitive to the touch.

Only then did you set about cleaning your hair and washing the dust of the road off yourself.

You allowed yourself to take the time you needed, and wanted, but after escaping the cold for good, your stomach reminded you lunch had been very light and eaten while walking, and there had been no pause for snacks since then.

The air in the small room before the staircase was noticeably colder in comparison, but you found a soft shawl hanging on the door outside and wrapped yourself in that after dressing in one of the silk gowns.

Zhongli was nowhere in sight as you ascended back up into the grand room.

A tray, laden with food, waited at the foot of the bed.

Bowls of soup, so hot steam rose from their surface, and platters with fruit, meat, bread in overabundance. A tiny jar with a lid held chalky paste that smelled strongly like mint, and two small brushes to clean your teeth with accompanied it.

The grapes were sweet and juicy, bursting with flavour as you popped two into your mouth.

The wind whistled around the closed windows in a fresh gust.

It wound around the room and slipped through cracks, tugging at the doors leading out on the scenic walkaround.

Pulling the shawl closer, you picked a handful of grapes and went over to the opening.

He was standing outside, hands on the railings, head tilted back.

Rain pelted down, plastering the hair to his scalp.

In the distance, lightning cracked. Moments later thunder rolled over the landscape, booming between the mountains and the flats surrounding the inn.

"Zhongli." You spoke, too low to have him hear.

His posture was so much less imposing without the coat, without the heavy duty gloves. With his vest and shirt drenched, they clung to his shoulders, much bonier than expected.

"Zhongli," You repeated, louder this time. "Come inside. Eat. Bath."

He turned at your voice.

Reached out a hand, still covered in a thin, dark glove. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and orange and yellow were the markings snaking up his skin, glowing, a beacon amidst the stormy night.

His palm was warm when it fell into yours.

He let you pull him inside, away from the elements and into the sheltered circle.

Didn't let go of your hand even after you closed the door, and only candlelight remained to illuminate the space.

He swallowed thickly.

His eyes were heavy, full of an emotion you couldn't name.

Wild, in their undercurrent.

As careful as you'd be with a wild animal, you began to peel the thin gloves off his hands, tugging them off his fingers one by one.

Yellow were his palms, emitting heat. Already his clothes were beginning to dry.

"It's been a while again for you?" You looked up into his face. Silent concentration was on it, his lids slipping close the longer you held onto his hand.

"Yes."

He caved into it the moment you cupped his cheek, but it wasn't the bottomless exhaustion he usually carried with him that tugged his shoulders down. Today it seemed like there was tension still holding him back, keeping him from letting go. "But we can't, today."

His eyes flickered open. Molten lava shone out of them, firy liquid gold coiling around his iris. One of his hands closed around your wrist as you tried to take your touch away.

You opened your mouth to ask, ask why he didn’t want the comforting touch, or say, anything, but he pressed a thumb to your lips.

"I'll bathe now. Go to bed, don't- Don't wait for me. Please."

And he slid out of your grasp, and stole away down the stairs.

There was way too much food.

You ate as much as was comfortable, and then simply reclined on the bed.

He'd said not to, but it felt wrong to even attempt to sleep before knowing he was some semblance of okay.

What might have upset him this much?

You couldn't think of anything, and the food and hot bath only contributed to your brain running slower and slower.

The clothes felt very nice.

The bed was so broad and nice, it would be a shame to not roll around in it, at least once.

You shot a glance back at the stairs.

How much time might have had passed?

It didn't matter.

You took a deep breath and spread out over the sheets.

This, too, was so very nice.

You rolled, and shuffled around, feeling the subtle rush of satisfaction buzz through you.

Amber would've called you a dog, but it didn't matter. Beds as expensive as these deserved to be rolled in, felt out as much as possible.

A door closed. You froze.

The bed was in complete disarray, but Zhongli's head started to show.

He paused at the top of the stairs.

His upper torso was bare, only his bottom was covered in a pair of silk pants.

You saw him take a deep breath.

A flicker of embarrassment shot through you as you sat up and tugged your own clothes back into their respective place. Nothing had slipped too badly, thankfully.

"Did you eat already?" You asked, shuffling forward to the edge of the bed to meet him.

He hummed, eyes fixed on you.

"You did? Okay. Wanna-"

He had reached you. Crawled into bed and slipped behind you, and before you could finish your sentence, his nose and lips pressed into the crook between your shoulder and neck.

"Thought you didn't want to cuddle today."

Your voice was quieter, softer, now that he was this close.

One of his arms slid around your stomach and pulled you back into his chest, and then there were his legs to each of your side, pants riding up to the middle of his shins, revealing bright yellow and glowing skin.

"Smells good." He hummed into your skin instead of answering your implied question.

“What, the food?” You laughed lightly. Between the standoffish, and this clingy side of him, you’d take his affectionate self any day.

“No. You.”

He pressed a kiss underneath your ear, the hint of his teeth brushing your skin.

Your thoughts flatlined.

"S-, so, you're not mad? At, at-" Good grief it was so difficult to focus enough to form a coherent sentence, with his lips suckling on your skin like that, and-

"Mad?" He asked, and his voice was hoarse. "Why?"

"I don't know," You looked ahead, eyes unseeing the room, too caught up in the warm, almost scorching thumbs of his hands slowly massaging your lower back. "The storm, maybe. Wasn't that what Ningguang meant, when she…"

You trailed off and looked over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse at his face.

He exhaled, and even his breath was warmer than usual as it fanned over your silk-covered back.

"Not entirely. Thunderstorms have a particularly… Intoxicating effect on adepti, and everyone who has a similarly deep bond to the nature that surrounds us. Ningguang… Likely wanted to test you, see how much you know."

You turned around, kneeling between his legs now.

His eyes were burning embers.

Without either of you looking down, your palms found each other, fingers intertwining. The longer you tried to find answers in Zhongli's carefully controlled face, the warmer he grew where you were touching.

"What do you want, Zhongli?" You whispered. Thunder cracked outside, so loud it reverberated in your chest.

He closed his eyes, but the light from within them bled through the cracks of his lids. He lifted a hand, brushed a kiss against the inside of your wrist.

"You." Zhongli pressed out, hands tugging yours close to his chest. His eyes held you captive as he blinked them open again. "If you'll have me."

And there you thought to find the reason for the unusually strained appearance; not knowing if he could act on his desires in this state, not knowing if you'd allow it.

You blinked under his unwavering gaze. How could one be so imposing and yet so reserved, so in control? Staring you down while pleading at the same time?

"I'll have you." You whispered, looking from one eye to the other. Already he was drawing a deep breath, letting go of your hands to reach for your body. "I'll have you, Zhongli."

You opened your arms and he fell between them, flattening his body to yours until you eased backwards and he followed you down, nose tucked under your chin, breathing deeply.

"Thank you." He whispered back, near soundless.

His hands found where the sleepshirt ended, snuck underneath and then ran up to your shoulder blades, holding you as close to him as possible while he rolled over, into the middle of the bed, bringing you on top of him.

"I need you to know, if you need me to stop-" He cupped one half of your face in his hand, tilted your head up to look at him. "Call out my title, and I will cease all movement."

"Okay," You nodded, eyes letting go of his to latch onto his lips. "Anything else I should know?"

He grumbled, and you felt the vibrations through your stomach.

"I'd like it if you took as much pleasure out of this as I do."

"We'll see about that." You smiled, bringing your legs forward in preparation to kneel over him.

Zhongli swallowed. His adam's apple moved, and without a second thought, you dipped down to press a kiss to it. Didn't take your lips away, slowly opened them until your teeth drew a ring, until you could tease a bite there.

His legs slid over the sheets and his throat strained against the small constraint you held over him.

"Yes," He whispered, "Oh-"

It hadn't seemed like it, but he responded to your touch as you reached out, hesitantly at first, growing bolder as he turned to putty under your fingers.

He keened when you dug your nails into his bicep, and let out a strangled moan as you bit into his shoulder. His chest heaved as you continued to hold the bite, even as his hands crept over your butt, helplessly slid over the clothes and skin as he didn't seem to find a thing to settle for.

It was unexpected when he pulled your hips down to his, even more when your soft parts met with a hardness that you'd never felt like this before.

The touch was enough to break your attention, and feeling your jaw going slack, Zhongli rubbed your body over his erection. Aided you, at most, as you leaned into the touch; thin fabric doing nothing to conceal the moisture that had begun to gather between your legs for a while now, nor the archon's dick.

Both of you moaned as one as his tip slid over the wet crotch in your pants.

You felt him twitch then, and more slick spread between you.

It felt good. So good, to feel him out like this, to have his hot fingers on your hips, on your thighs, reaching up over your sternum and then have them slide down all the way to where you were aching to be filled.

The next time one of his palms found your cheek, you turned your head and pressed a kiss to it.

His breathing faltered.

Neither of you had kept particularly quiet; the storm that was only beginning to win in intensity was loud enough to drown out an army of Ruin Guards marching to battle.

And still, his small sounds, the gasps and moans and groaned, unintelligible words your touches coaxed out of him were music to your ears.

"I need you." He brought out, fully laid out before you as you sat up, ground back on his dick. "Ah- I- I need- Please allow me to- Hah... F-fuck…-" His eyes were glistening, light from within them reflecting in tears that had not yet fallen.

You leaned down, until your lips were touching but not joined quite yet. He was biting on his, to keep composure or filthy words, you weren't sure; But his teeth released his lips and they remained open.

"What do you want, Zhongli?" You asked, pressing a small kiss to his bottom lip.

"To- To f-"

"What?" You tilted your head, rolling your hips against his.

"To- To fuck you, I want to fuck you."

"Say 'Please'."

Was this going too far? You felt an inane power within you, like he wouldn't be able to simply flip you over and under him to please himself however he wanted. He had asked you, if you would have him. Had given you a safeword and yet done nothing more than a few guiding touches, a few longing moans-

"Please!" He begged, eyes wrenched shut and brows drawn.

"Undress for me, Zhongli." You mumbled into the skin on his neck, biting down again. It had been harder than the last, definitely not like the love-bites he'd given you in the past, whenever a cuddling session had had his possessive spirits rising.

He groaned and tilted his head away to give you more access, and after you didn't make a move to give him more room, he began to twist and turn to undo his pants.

When he slid the fabric down his legs, you finally pulled away to see.

His neck and shoulders already bore the two bites you'd given him, but the golden lines running down his chest, past his belly button, enticed you more.

They ended in an artful swirl that reminded you of the geo symbol. It was located just above his pulsating dick, it's colour more leaning towards blood-gold than yellow.

As you looked on, his length throbbed, releasing a thick drop of precum onto his lower stomach.

You leaned forward and kissed him, properly.

Hummed your approval as his hands found your body once more.

Buried his hands underneath the silk adorning you still, and tugged.

Slipped the pants down your thighs until they wouldn't move further, at which point his palms came up again, caressing every inch of skin between your legs and your chest.

There was a moment of full darkness when you pulled the top off, helping Zhongli.

Eager was he to return his touch, rough palms finding the soft skin of your chest.

He was still burning up, and in the cooling air of the room, he was a furnace you wanted to cling to, just to never have to freeze again.

He made a displeased sound when you separated your bodies to get rid of the pants, but then you were back right away, laying down against him, nothing keeping you apart any longer.

For a moment it was enough.

Enough to feel the other along every limb, to feel each other's weight and touch and warmth.

His lower arms were rougher than you remembered when he hugged them around your back, pulled you close.

Brought his hips up, once.

You leaned upwards, asking for another kiss, and he indulged you. He tasted like syrup, sticky and sweet and yet there was a sharpness underlining it all.

With your lips parted by a hair, you held your breath with him together as he pushed his lower half up, lining himself up with your entrance.

Sheathed himself in one long, excruciatingly slow thrust.

Buried to the hilt you were holding your breath again, only letting go as he thrust against you, ground into you as deep as he could.

Smooth, his dick was so smooth, smoother than any man's you'd had.

Filling you perfectly, not leaving a single spot inside you untouched.

His slow, mellow thrusts had both of you moan out whenever he buried himself balls-deep.

"Fuck-" It slipped out of you, and it seemed like Zhongli had been waiting for it.

He hugged his arms around you, pulled you down - or himself up - and started to thrust in earnest.

He moved without strain, rutting deep inside, and now it didn't feel like you were the one in control anymore.

It didn't matter.

Zhongli held you as he fucked into you, surrounding you with himself and the strange scent of burned wood that wouldn't leave him, and his hot skin against yours, his dick driving inside you was all that mattered here and now.

You couldn't remember when, but somewhere down the line there'd appeared a growth at the bottom of his dick, and it rubbed against a particularly good spot inside you.

Your own efforts of chasing orgasm had been lackluster, as it had been so much easier to lean back and bathe in the pleasure he was giving you, and so it surprised you when he thrust in, deep; his penis throbbing, the bulge pushing against you, and you came.

Catapulted you over the edge you'd been unaware of dancing along with the lazy movements of your fingers.

You ground back against him as you moaned out your ecstasy, Zhongli holding you as you came apart.

Prolonged your peak by thrusting in two times more before stilling, keeping you as close to him as possible with his arms around your back, his legs propped up to keep himself as deep inside as he could.

He shuddered as you only began to gather your breathing.

"Hrng-"

You felt the first squirt of sperm as he, too, found his release.

It splashed inside you, hotter than expected, and you thought to feel exactly where it had hit.

But there came more, and more, and more.

When you were filled as much as your body could take, you felt it squeezing between your bodies, forced out of you.

And still Zhongli's face was buried at your chest, still his body kept on pumping out cum, so much it sloshed and squelched inside you.

"Ah-h… Ah…"

You hummed in answer, and leaned your head against his forehead.

Zhongli's entire body moved as he took a breath. Weak was the twitch of his cock now.

Neither of you moved for the longest time.

You'd thought to have seen light from the corner of your eyes after blinking once, and turned your head to look again - inhaling sharply.

Zhongli stirred underneath you as you sat back up. Was already pawing at your sides to have you lay down with him again as you touched a hand to your belly.

Bright yellow lines glowed between your naval and the skin underneath. The geo symbol pulsed with every beat your heart did.

Slightly less radiant was the semen that had spilled out between you, but that, too, held a faint glow.

Zhongli's eyes were open as you found them, wanting to ask a question.

"That happens," He answered before you'd said a single word. "When a god fucks a human."

His big hand replaced yours, covering much more space than yours had.

At the proximity, the symbol glowed brighter.

“I do not wish to burden you with offspring.” He mumbled, eyes slits as he moved his fingertips over the skin, not following the existing pattern, but drawing a sigil over it.

It glowed white-gold once before fading, only leaving a ghostly imprint laid over the geo symbol. It didn’t lose any of its initial intense glow, continuing to shine brightly, even though it was soon out of your view.

Zhongli had shuffled back enough that he could lean his back against the headboard, but instead his arms were around your back, his head pressed against your chest.

However, some light still seeped out from where your bodies had become one, and in his grasp it was warm, so warm.

Outside the storm was raging on, picking up in ferocity, and if you moved your head back far enough you could feel where Zhongli’s horns had grown out of his head.

Scales crept down his arms, black and red and orange and yellow, where the skin had been burning up and then cooled down into black and then it’s usual, human tones.

You felt shivers begin to shake him, and half expected as much as he peeled himself off of you.

The growth at the bottom of his dick had shrunken back, and with him sliding out of you there was nothing holding the aftermath of your coupling at bay anymore. It spilled out of you, warm and slick, but as you eased back into the sheets you rather wanted to ask him why he was pulling away now than complain about the feeling. It wasn’t even unpleasant.

His palm touched your hand, held your cheek, and the expression on his face was terribly conflicted as he left the bed. You watched, from the security of the blankets, how he stumbled across the room and towards the doors, threw them open against the wind that pulled and pressed against them.

Lightning flashed, bright and cold and sudden, and when you opened your eyes again Zhongli was gone.

Forgetting about the slightly dazed state and your sluggish legs, you reached for the discarded robe and shawl, to cover yourself before going after him.

The wind blew rain in your face as you approached the doors.

A black line curled in the sky, shot through the clouds and plunged down towards the ground - you ran forward to see it crash into the ground, but there was nothing there when you reached the handrail.

For a moment you tried to orientate yourself.

Then something big appeared from below, and you weren’t fast enough to jump back.

The dragon sped past you, its long body going up and up until it was past the Inn and back among the clouds, lightning making its entire body glow.

A low rumble filled the sky above you, but it wasn’t thunder.

You needed a moment to recognize it for what it was - laughter.

The dragon was laughing.

Zhongli, was laughing.

You watched him fly through the clouds, sheltered from the brunt of the storm just behind the frame of the door.

Several times you held your breath when lightning struck him, but he never fell. It only seemed to fuel him; he twisted and turned and wound through the clouds at such a breathtaking speed it was difficult to discern more than a blur of him at times.

But eventually the thunder got quieter, and the lightning sparser.

The eye of the storm had passed you at last.

After a last loop, Zhongli turned and began heading back towards the Inn.

He slowed down his maddening speed, enough that he didn’t crash into the walkaround. You still stepped aside after opening the doors, to make as much room as possible for him.

His body was gigantic.

Had it seemed small and fragile out among the sky, was it now solid and warm to the touch. Standing with his head and back bent, he still filled the room from top to bottom.

His tail flurried in after him as he turned like a big cat, allowing you to close the doors.

In the small space his breathing was rough and loud, every heave of his ribs sending warmth and a fine spray of water out.

His head was as big as your upper half.

And still he blinked at you slowly, took a sniff in your direction.

In wonder, you came closer to him, hand outstretched, ready to pull back whenever he showed the slightest hint of displeasure.

It never came.

The flat palm of your hand made contact with the front of his snout, and he closed his bright golden eyes.

Steam left his nostrils.

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered, tongue heavy with exhaustion.

He dropped down lower, until he could lean the side of his head against your barely covered body. Nudging you towards the bed.

With a small laugh you went, heard him take careful steps to follow.

You’d barely sat down when you felt his presence behind you, turned just in time to see his mouth opening and his tongue darting out.

The tip brushed your neck, swept up to your chin, and it was surprisingly soft.

“What-?”

He repeated it, only this time his tongue caught on lower, sweeping a broad stripe up over your stomach and over your chest.

It did feel a bit strange, especially since his saliva was a little sticky, but it also tickled and was warm and you weren’t going to complain.

Especially not once he’d nudged you back and got access to your lap, taking much care and time to properly clean any and all spills of his up and out.

It felt surreal, to first have felt his cock and now his tongue this far, this prominent inside you, but it felt good, so good.

He’d licked your entire body clean of sweat and sperm before you were allowed to rest, two times after cumming from his intensive care.

He curled his large body around the bed, only resting his head near the edge. You pulled the sheets up around you, holding your arms open - until he carefully put his snout underneath the arm you held up, and you swung a leg over his neck, holding him to your front.

His eyes were closed, but his mane gave off enough of a glow to stand out against your skin, in the darkness.

In the grey hours before a wet dawn, you were roused from sleep by slow, loving licks.

They touched your cheek and neck, much like Zhongli liked to cup and stroke the area whenever you’d spent time together, to ease the strain that maintaining his human form put on him.

You rolled on your back and smiled before opening your eyes, hands coming up to pat his snout. When you caught the first glance of him, in the sparse light coming into the room, he was still as beautiful as the night before.

Stunning, even when his mane no longer had sparks rising out of it, and his eyes had mellowed out into the rich gold of freshly minted mora instead of the burning fire that had filled them before.

“Good morning, Zhongli.” You whispered at him. He closed his eyes at the sound of his name. “Did you manage to get some sleep?”

He hummed.

His tongue darted out again, brushing your collarbone. A smile stole on your lips. You stretched, still pleasantly cushioned in the blankets and feeling cozy from sleep.

Zhongli’s tongue skirted around the top of your chest.

“So that’s what you’re after, hm.” You peered down at him, unable to contain the smirk. “Hm, well. If that’s what you want…”

You began to kick the covers off. They went much faster than planned when one of Zhongli’s feet caught onto it and tugged it down, but then the mood was interrupted as one of his claws had hooked into the fabric and he couldn’t shake it off right away.

You watched him struggle for a moment before sitting up into a kneel, gently pushing his snout out of the way to reach the offending sheet faster.

It came loose and Zhongli huffed, clearly annoyed at having it so rudely interject the beginning feelings rising between you.

“There we go, all better now. Do you wanna continue-?”

The question was answered before you could finish formulating it. Freed of the covers - both you and his claw - he nudged at you to lie down again, in the middle of the bed, head and feet pointing to the ends of the bed that didn’t have wood framing them.

“What…?”

That question, too, was answered straight away.

He continued to lick you, focusing on the tips of your breasts and the folds between your legs, but while his tongue was working on you, he lifted his body and rearranged its limbs.

Eventually he had to draw back, tilted his head at you.

Your eyes slipped down.

There, from between the broad scales of his belly just before his hind legs, was his dick.

It was much larger in this form, but held a similar, golden colour, and the precum that had oozed out of it and wetted the floor was almost translucent white. The thin connection it had held to the small puddle on the floor broke, and about a quarter of it pulled back to his tip, into another fat drop collecting there.

Zhongli whined.

“I’m afraid it won’t fit.” You looked up at him. He softly moved his head from left to right. “No? No putting it in or no, not-”

He moved, slowly, until his erection was resting against you. You trusted him not to do something foolish, but placed your hands on the scales of where his knees were now.

He pushed forward.

Instead of directing it downward, his hips tilted up ever so slightly, had his tip rub over your clit and then smear his precum all over your belly. His length reached from the start of your thigh to your chest, was as thick as a pipe, and hot.

On top of you, Zhongli shuddered.

“Oh, I see…” You gathered the slick with your hands and smoothed them over the top of his dick. “Hmm, this might work. Just be careful to not squish me to death, eh?”

You tilted your head back and found him staring at you through his front legs, frowning, to the best of his abilities. It got a laugh out of you.

As your body shook, it added friction to his length, and another big drop of shimmering slick spilled from within.

“Let’s take care of you, c’mon.”

You kept your legs spread, and Zhongli stood above you, rocking his hips forward, dragging his dick over your body.

The more fluid came from him, the easier it got; and soon, he was rutting faster, kept his eyes closed, his legs shaking.

Under your palms, you felt him swell and deflate ever so slightly, could begin to tell when more moisture would come from him.

When he moaned, it went through your entire body.

Having been deprived of much contact, you tried to bring your core up, to have it touch him, and at the same time Zhongli leaned down, bringing his erection lower, and in the moment you met, his head was pushing directly against your entrance.

He stopped moving almost instantly, but it hadn’t been enough to hurt you. Instead you were squirming against him, slipping and sliding over his tip.

“Fuck, Zhongli, I- I wish my body could take you right now, I wish you could fill me like this, this is- You look so- I feel-”

He seemed to find understanding in your mindless words, moved, slowly, hesitant to thrust forward.

But it was enough, and even though the stretch was nowhere near enough to have him enter you in earnest, it was enough pressure to shove you closer towards orgasm.

He grunted at the string of words that left your lips, sweet nothings about how beautiful he was and how good he felt and how good he made you feel and how hot this was and how much you wanted to feel him and how much you longed to feel him, and then he started thrusting again, not much, just enough that it had his dick go from between your legs to your stomach and back, up from between your legs and down again, up, and down, and up and down and before he could have it slip up again, he made a strangled noise and pushed forward.

It was enough force to have you slide over the covers, but the bed was big enough that you didn’t fall off and then his cock was throbbing against your opening, thick ropes of cum spilling from it.

It covered your outer vagina and vulva immediately, flowed over your hips and made a gigantic mess.

Every throb came directly against your clit, and through the slick mess you reached a hand down, finally reaching the peak as well.

Zhongli, apparently sensing what you were after and wanting part in it, made a small sound and pressed forward, right as you were breaching the wave’s crest.

His tip stretched you, still not enough to enter you, but adding a slight flavour to your orgasm.

“Zhongli…!”

His form shrunk, scales rippling and receding under your half-closed eyes, until human hands touched your sides and a human-sized dick was shoved inside you, and human hips desperately thrusted forward, the cum from before making the endeavour disgustingly sloppy and noisy and easy.

He covered your entire body again, but this time you kissed when he came, this time releasing his sperm deep inside you, right against your cervix.

His hand was quick to chase down and begin playing with your most sensitive part, and he was still buried inside you when you came again, this time too tired to re-open your eyes afterwards.

Just relishing in the feeling of absolute calm, peace and safety that came with being cradled and held by Zhongli like this.

You were still awake enough to feel him slide out after a period of rest, could still feel him wiping your skin clean and patting it dry. Allowed yourself to fall further towards sleep when he gently lifted you and put something warm and dry beneath you, and then fitted his body against yours protectively.

There was a feeling in your chest and words nestled on your tongue, but in the haze of sleep beginning to set in, you weren’t sure if you’d said them aloud or just thought them.

Safe in his arms, you fell asleep again.

a/n: pls reblog if you liked it :) also ramble away in the tags or comments as you please, it really does make my day. my inbox is fine too, open for all

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littlefreya · 4 years ago

Text

Velvet Chains

Summary: For a generous fee, August Walker is yours. A man devout to pleasure, who will worship you for an entire night and make sure your first time is more than memorable.

Promot:

A thought - August as a gigolo who specializes in deflowering. 👌

Pairing: Soft! August Walker x Virgin Reader.

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+. August Walker as a sex-worker, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a depiction of bodily fluids, soft!August themes, a tinge of angst and August’s monster c...

A/N: When I received this prompt, I didn’t think I can actually do it justice, but it was 3am and I started dabbling around. Then in the morning, I took another look at it, and this little drabble turned into a one-shot. I hope you’ll like it, I hope I did well. Many thanks to @agniavateira my muse who beta’d my story.

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed reading. 🖤 DM if you want to be added to my tag squad.

Title: Velvet Chains

They were all little flowers to him, fresh peonies and flushed roses. Young or mature, it never mattered as long as they were still oh so pure. Undefiled, succulent flesh. Kissed by dew and wrapped by the last remaining petals of their innocence.

All for him to willfully pluck.

Sprayed with notes of tobacco, and boozy fragrance of rum - August Walker was the top-tier kind of service, a man to die for with his three-piece suits and shiny leather shoes. At one point he didn’t even need to self-promote; they came to him, all doe-eyed and coy, willing to pay as much as it takes to have him breach through the sealed gates of their garden.

The rules were quite simple: Cash in advance and always wear protection; other than that anything goes. August liked to see himself as a procurer of fantasies rather than a male prostitute. For a generous fee of $1500, his girls earned themselves a night they never forgot. Whether it began with a dinner at the most outrageous restaurant, a masked ball at a billionaire’s mansion, or an intimate evening with his homemade cooking at a cosy sublet.

It was up to him to choose the experience for the ladies after thoroughly assessing and profiling each client. He was never wrong; after all, it was his job to study women, both mentally and physically.

“I know what you need,” he would murmur as he kissed down their navel and swept between their shaky thighs. And in his grip they indeed laughed, cried, and came undone so many times over, reaching out to grasp heaven around his unapologetically huge cock.

Until you changed everything.

August couldn’t quite crack you; while he enjoyed, savoured, and conquered every woman he had, it was you who seemed to have more power over him than he did over you. The quiet abyss in your eyes reeled him in like an unfortunate, foolish fish teetering on a hook. Whatever mysteries that mind of yours held, he wanted to pry it open with his fingers and brush them through the parchments of your soul.

He desired you more than just the flesh; he wanted to be deeper in you than he ever was in any other woman.

‘Who are you?’

Shivering in his presence, it was crystal clear that you weren’t immune to his spells; yet you didn’t seem impressed by the theatrics or his suave appearance. As if you saw right through him, and knew it was all but a spectacle.

Wanting everyone to witness your ‘claiming’, he took you to the dimly-lit roof of his private apartment and laid you on a blanket beneath the beaming stars. When his lips touched yours while slowly ridding himself of his clothes, August felt like he could tell you his most kept secrets though he didn’t want to.

This is not how it worked. Not for him.

Sorrounded by the fairy tea-lights that adorned the intimate rooftope, you flinched as he began undressing you, and trembled so vehemently once completely bare that all he wanted was to embrace you in his big arms. And he did so, collecting you against the dark fur of his chest, the heat of his body provided shelter from the cold October breeze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered sincerely and allowed his hands to roam the tender map of your body. Likely, he would never see you again, so he wanted to remember every curve, dimple, and scar; he needed your moans imprinted in the museum of his mind.

The same desperate, breathless pleas only a virgin would make, purer than pure.

Breathing in shudders, you laid down beneath him with your legs spread out. Your little untouched slit displayed to his hungering gaze, asking to be reshaped by his intrustment. August was never one to lose control, but your entire existence has made him question every decision and in a moment of frivolousity, he lost himself completely and broke the most forbidden rule:

He entered you bare.

Painfully large and hot as flaming iron, his rigid cock tore through your maidenhood and delved into your velvety pit, desperately searching for the engulfing shelter that was your womb. Weeps of pain rained down your lips; he was too big, and he didn’t slow down. He unwrapped you, tearing your rose petals one by one, sinking in until you could have sworn he was infused between your lungs.

Overwhelmed by the raw sensation of your wet flesh engulfing him, August raked his arm around the small of your back and held your body against his, forcing you to spread wider, to grant him the infinite access he demanded.

“Look at me kitten,” he murmured in a half-breathless, half-soothing voice and showered hasty butterfly kisses across your forehead, “I’m inside you. It’s done, now let me please you.”

He seared your body, your sensitive entrance pulsating with a twinge of grieving anger around his veiny cock, your walls squeezing, fighting off his lewd intrusion. While you anticipated the pain, the initial shock was too much to bear.

“I don’t think I can take you,” you retorted and swallowed hard, trying not to cry as he swelled and flinched inside you further more.

August reached a hand to your jaw and caged it between his strong fingers. Not saying a word, he stared intensely into your eyes. Smoke and broken mirrors shadowed his glare. In your daze, you swore you could see his reveries and hear him whisper without moving his lips.

The barriers of your guarded castle were in ruins, and so was your self-preservation. Fully submitting, you allowed him to take you beneath the shimmering, black silks of midnight.

August was both gentle and rough as he rode between your thighs, his heavy body surrounding you completely. His entity seeped through your lungs and pores, his bewhiskered mouth left sloppy, ticklish kisses and chanted a hymn of pleasure against your neck.

For a slight moment, you wondered if he was this passionate with all of his customers. But all thoughts died at the moment his crown slammed into the wall of your womb, and the entirety of your existence was flooded with both the tremors of sudden pleasure and satisfying pain.

You wanted more, you wanted to be complete. To be completely his.

“Oh god, yes!” You cried for him, clawing your nails at the taut muscles of his back.

Grunting, he plunged into you, harder with every pull and deeper with every thrust. He sought for heaven between your legs and as inexperienced and naive as you were, you followed your instincts and complied to his arousal. Bucking your hips, you yielded to meet the jerk of his hips - your rhythm a savage mess, your demeanour that of a virgin-whore.

“Good girl, my good girl,” August praised, thrilled of the shift in you, and by the helpless, glossy gaze and gaping mouth as you moaned and begged. Your freshly open cunt clung to his invasion with its growing tightness. Holding onto him the way the moon is bound to earth.

Control was gradually lost over your own bodies, enslaved to something stronger than your wills and wits. It was as if you became vessels to haunting spirits that made you slam into one another, lost in a sweaty, carnal trance until a flush of sudden rapture broke between your legs the way raging waves break upon a ship lost at sea, consuming it completely.

Like a dauntless sailor, August followed you into the depths of euphoria. Jumping to his knees, he hauled you by the waist and slammed you against him, needing to be balls-deep within you. With a loud shout, he came undone, astonished by the raw, unbridled sensation of releasing himself inside another person.

You both shuddered in shock as his thick cum bathed your womb in three, warm gushes.

‘Oh, August, what have you done?’

Spent, he nearly collapsed on top of you, holding his hands flat to the side of your head. He took a deep breath before pulling out from your hurting hole and moving to lie by your side. The pink mixture of your essence trickled between your simmering lips just the way it coated his still-swollen cock. Glancing down upon it he felt an odd notion of triumph, more than the usual complacent feeling usually evoked with his clientele.

“Don’t worry, I am clean.” He promised.

In a way, you were his first as well.

Pulling you against him, he nuzzled your neck and hummed lowly, “I don’t imagine you could give me anything.”

Still trying to land back on solid ground, you said nothing. Words didn’t make it, not through your chest nor your head. You basked within the moment, trying to memorise every vibration that flowed through your veins as the glow became dimmer with every passing minute.

Limbs entangled, he decorated your shoulder-blade with honey-sweet kisses while your spine attached to his hairy chest. He watched you quietly, admiring you completely until the two of you fell into a dreamless sleep under the guarding sky.

Come morning, August was awakened by the sounds of the raging street below. The scent of toxic vapours hung heavy in the air and his face curled at the sounds of the beeping horns. For a moment, he forgot where he was but then you were the first thing on his mind. Even though he knew the deal was for one night only, something in him itched for a generous ‘on-the-house’ lazy morning sex.

As he rolled to lie on top of you, his chest felt abruptly empty. He was met with nothing but the defiled blanket.

You were gone.

Though the scent of your body, your sweat, and viscous fluids were still stuck to his skin, your memory a sheer piece of silk carried away by the cruel wind. The weight of a thousand stones dropped in August’s gut and he flipped onto his back once more and stared at the cloudy sky.

It resonated in him that this was all that it was, and he would never find a girl like you again.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

*I don’t own August Walker or the Mission: Impossible Franchise

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #henry cavill x reader #august walker fanfiction

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neon-junkie · 3 years ago

Text

Multitasking

Summary: Tech's job is to repair the ship. Your job is to test his focus by riding his cock.

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Reader Description: Reader is gender-neutral. This fic does not include any descriptions of their appearance.

Word count: 4.1k

Tags: Established relationship, Oral (giving), Smut, Cuming inside, Praise kink, sub!Tech, dom!Reader, Making out, Fluff.

Notes: Happy Tech Tuesdays!! I just had to write something for this specific shot in last weeks episode teehee

Being stranded on an unknown planet is one thing, but being stranded on an unknown planet with a broken down ship? Now, that's entirely another thing - a thing that the Bad Batch has been unfortunate enough to come across. Luck, nor hope, has ever been on their side, nothing ever goes to plan, but today's plan is simple: You and Tech are to stay on the ship and work on repairs, whilst everybody else heads out and searches for food, supplies, the will to live, and so on. And that's exactly where you are right now. Tech is currently suited up, helmet on, laying down on his back, working on the underside of the ships control panel. Most of your jobs are complete, and Tech urged you to have a break like the caring sweetheart that he is. You two have kept your relationship hidden from just about everybody, including the Batch, as you fear that it might cause a rift within the group. Although, you're almost certain they know. You've seen the glances Hunter and Crosshair make to each other when you and Tech are nattering away, and you've overheard Omega ask Wrecker and Echo multiple times if they're certain that you two aren't actually an item. The Batch knows, but the Batch doesn't officially know, and you both plan on keeping it that way. Alone time is a rarity. You'll be lucky to receive a kiss whenever you bring Tech a cup of caf whilst he's alone in the cockpit, or feel his hand in yours whenever you two are buddied up during a mission. You're both touch starved an unimaginable amount, and now that you two have some privacy, you want to make the most of it. Only, Tech being Tech, he needs to work. Tech wants to spend this time with you, just as much as you want to spend it with him, but the Marauder is in dire need of repairs, and only Tech has the ability to fix this ship. So, whilst on your break, you make Tech another cup of caf and bring it over, informing him of your presence as you settle down beside him. He thanks you, but his eyes remain glued to the underside of the cockpits control panel. Dare you say it - he looks inviting. Yes, he's busy working on the ship, and that's exactly why you're fighting the urge to hop on his lap right now. There's something enticing about Tech when he's literally buried in his work. Your mind has blanked out almost every single time he's attempted to explain something to you; you never understand what he's actually on about, but you always ask him to further explain, as the glisten in his eyes always makes you smile. But this? This is something else. You've seen Tech work on the ship so many times, but never in this position. He's lying on his back, hands and eyes fixated on the wires dangling above him, but the way his legs are casually spread is just so... oh. "Tech?" you question as you place a hand on his thigh, gently kneading at the fabric wrapped around him. "I know," Tech sighs. You're about to question what he apparently knows, but his sorrowful eyes meet yours, and he continues with "I want to spend this quiet time with you too." "Awhh," you sigh, giving Tech's thigh another squeeze. "I was actually going to tell you that your caf is there, and to be careful not to knock it over," you laugh, pointing to the cup beside him. Tech rolls his eyes, but from the way they're squinting, you know he's smiling beneath his helmet. He turns his attention back to his work, and you express your agreement with his comment. "But I also wish I was spending this time with you," you reply, and purr your words at the end, hoping that Tech knows what you're implying. "Stars," Tech sighs. "It's been some time, hasn't it?" "Tell me the specifics, Tech," you smile, and Tech's eyes happily meet yours. He's often silenced by his vods for 'blabbering' on about 'unimportant' details, but to you, his ability to remember so much makes your heart flutter. "Eighteen days, to be precise," Tech states as he continues working. "It's been eighteen days since we've had some time alone together, and four days since we've kissed." "I held your hand yesterday," you say with a laugh. "Yes, and I'm almost certain that Hunter saw that," Tech sighs. He stretches his hand out and makes a small grabbing motion, and you fill his palm with one of his tools. Tech shifts up onto his elbows as he looks at the tool that you've handed him, and he can't help but laugh. "I was motioning for you to place your hand in mine," he says as he places the tool down, and shuffles his way from underneath the control panel, sitting on the floor beside you. You laugh along with him, one hand still on his thigh, the other settling in his gloved palm. Tech gives you a comforting squeeze as he flicks his helmets' visor up, revealing his wide eyes, protected by his goggles. He speaks so much through his eyes alone, and you know him to a point where you two can speak without words, and right now, Tech's asking for more. Your hand slips from Tech's grasp so you can remove his helmet. His helmet remains in your grasp as you shuffle closer, and with a smug expression, you ask "do you want to change our four day count back to zero?" Tech nods his head as he softly laughs at your flirtatious remark. He shifts his goggles from his eyes, resting them on his forehead so they won't get in the way as he leans in and kisses you. Tech's kisses are always so soft and gentle, affectionate with a sprinkle of needy. One of his hands finds the back of your neck, simply holding you there as he makes up for all the lost time. Shuffling even closer to Tech, you debate asking a specific question, fearing rejection; you know that Tech wants the same, but he's busy with work, and work is always his top priority. You understand, and you understand that you two would have a lot of explaining to do if the rest of the Batch returned to find an unfixed ship, so you always allow him to prioritize his work. But Tech's kisses grow hungry, deeper and sloppier, and the whimper that he makes when you pull away confirms that he's just as eager as you are. "Do you want to reset our eighteen day count also?" you softly question against his lips, and your tone of voice makes him shudder. "I want to," he sighs, and gives you another kiss before continuing. "But I have work to do, although I estimate that it won't take me long to complete. Then, I'm all yours." "And what if the others return before then?" you pout. "They set off two hours ago. It's highly unlikely that they'd return in such a short time," Tech states. Smart, as always, but the Batch are unpredictable, and you worry that today might be one of those days. You ponder your thoughts, lazily kissing Tech as you weigh out your options. All of your work is done, and Tech doesn't have long to go, but you need him right now. He has the ability to work in an array of situations - under pressure, stressed, overwhelmed, and so on - but what about aroused? Yes, you've teased him on the odd occasion when he's been working, but that's as far as you've gone. Is it time to take things further? "Tech?" you sigh as you pull away. "Mhm?" Tech responds, half-lidded eyes meeting yours. "You still have work to do, but I don't. So, maybe I could start us off whilst you continue working?" you suggest, batting your lashes as you speak, even though you know Tech will say yes. To your surprise, Tech thinks about it, and quickly points out a negative to your idea. "I'm sure you're aware on how distracting your presence is, and... engaging with me sexually will distract me tenfold," Tech objects, moving his hands as he talks. "I've seen you work whilst distracted before. I won't be any different," you shrug. "I understand what you're referring to, but your presence can't be compared to the heat of the battlefield. They are two completely different types of distractions." "What I'm saying is..." you begin, and straddle Tech's lap as you talk, placing his helmet down on the floor beside him. One hand gently cups Tech's chin, tilting it to the side, leaving his neck open for you to begin kissing along. "You're a good worker, Tech, and you've worked through just about everything. So, you'll be fine with my presence, I'm certain of it." You can physically feel Tech shuddering in your grasp, turning into putty whilst you kiss along his neck, speaking against his skin. He lets out a groan when you nip at a sensitive spot behind his ear, and his hands find your hips, squeezing and kneading them. "What do you think?" you question, and wait patiently for Tech's answer. Tech stays silent for a while, minus his quiet mewls and moans. He's putting a lot of thought into this, possibly too much, but he eventually comes to a decision. "Alright," he gently nods. "You're welcome to engage with me whilst I work, but if you are too distracting, and I am unable to work with you around, then I will ask you to stop." "Of course, love," you reply as your kisses move up to his cheek. "I only want what's best for you." "You're what's best for me," Tech sharply exhales, and from the way his eyes turn wide, you know he wasn't meant to let that slip. "I mean... Uh, I shall return to my work, and you're welcome to... do whatever you'd like to do." Tech fumbles for his goggles, pulling them down from his forehead. You sneak in another kiss before his helmet is placed on, and just as Tech's about to lie down, he points something out. "I'd suggest that you shut and lock the door." You scramble up from his lap, shutting the cockpits' door, just to be safe. As you're about to lock it, Tech informs you of a different code to use, and explains why when you turn around and raise your brow at him. "It's a private code that I installed recently, just to be safe." "Safe from what?" you question. "Well, after the inhibitor chip situation, I wanted to install a code that only I know, so if something were to go wrong, say the Empire takes control of us and reinstalls the chip, then sends said person down to attack us, then we'd be safe from them in the ship." You're left speechless as Tech explains his bizarre, paranoid scenario. He notices your bewildered expression, and adds "hypothetically speaking, of course." As if that somehow makes things any better. "You and your paranoia, Tech," you sigh as you punch in the new code. "If it weren't for my paranoia, then we wouldn't now have this safely locked door, preventing the others from walking in on us, if they are to return early," Tech points out, motioning with his hands as he talks, before lying down and shuffling under the cockpits control panel. You roll your eyes whilst smiling, your heart fluttering over yet another reason why you've fallen for Tech. He goes back to work, leaving you to your mischief. Just like before, Tech has his legs partially spread, feet firmly on the floor with his knees slightly raised. As you settle beside him, your hand comes to rest on his thigh, fingers fiddling with the straps of his utility belt. You unhook the straps from his thighs, moving them up to his waist, giving you access to his codpiece. You know far too well how to remove his armour, and you find the hook that unlatches his codpiece, removing it entirely in one swift motion. Tech's already semi-hard, his cock straining against the tight fabric of his blacks. You palm over his erection, eyes peeking up to watch his reaction, and there is none, minus a soft sight. It's clear that he's attempting to focus on his work, and you're torn between wanting to be a massive distraction, and wanting to let him get on with his work. Sadly, repairing the ship is important, but you're certain that you can test his focus another time. For now, you're happy with slowly and lazily getting both of you off, waiting for Tech to finish so both of you can quicken the pace. Shuffling down onto your front, you free his cock from beneath his blacks, pumping it loosely whilst you find a comfortable position. Tech lets out another sigh when you swipe your tongue over the tip of his cock, swirling it around a few times, and then sinking down onto his length. You know by now exactly what makes Tech stir, and like the minx that you are, you go for those specific areas. Tech lets out a groan as you glide your tongue down the underside of his shaft, your hand lightly squeezing his tip. You spend a while between his thighs, earning weak moans, muffled through his helmet. One of his legs begins to lightly bounce, something his body subconsciously does when he's in deep though, and as of recent, something he also does when he's attempting to focus whilst distracted. With one hand around Tech's cock, you manage to slip your pants off, kicking off your boots in the process. You find the perfect balance between satisfying your partner, and preparing yourself, and although the position is slightly uncomfortable, the sound that Tech makes when he notices you prepping yourself makes it worth your while. "Copaani gaan?" you overhear Tech speak in his mother tongue. His eyes lock onto yours as he raises his head slightly, propping himself up on elbows, and Tech watches as you tilt your head in confusion. "Need a hand?" he repeats, and you mumble an 'oh' at his translation. "Shouldn't you be working on the ship?" you question. As Tech starts speaking, you slip his cock back into your mouth, completely malfunctioning his brain. "It's- I... the work- uh..." Tech stutters, and groans as he blurts out "mesh'la." A gloved hand rests on the back of your head as Tech lies back down, eyes scrunching shut, moaning softly for you. "So beautiful," he mumbles, and lets out a choked sob when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. "What were you saying about the ship?" you innocently ask as you pull off his cock. "It's almost fixed," Tech groans, followed by a heavy sigh. "Finish your work, Tech," you order, and your tone of voice makes Tech shudder. "Elek, cyar'ika," Tech whimpers. "Anything for you." The hand on the back of your head is removed, and Tech turns as much focus as he can to his work. You decide that you're prepped enough, as is Tech, and begin shuffling into position, straddling Tech's lap. His eyes flick away for a moment, watching through his slowly steaming-up goggles as you sink down onto his length, letting out a soft sigh once you're fully seated. Despite not being able to see Tech's face, you know he's struggling to hold himself together, especially from the noise he makes when you begin slowly rising and falling on his cock, taking your time with every thrust. "Your work, Tech," you comment as you lock eyes. "Y-yes, right..." Tech's words trail off as he attempts to finish up, moving wires and tightening bolts, putting together the final parts of the ships control panel. You keep your pace slow and steady, not wanting to move Tech's body too much as he works, plus the sensation of slowly fucking yourself on your partners cock is oh-so-satisfying. And from the sounds that Tech is attempting not to make, you know that he's feeling the same way. You two spend some time like that, Tech finalizing the ship as you slowly get each other off, tensing your muscles every so often to tighten your grip on Tech's cock. Wanting to see how Tech will react, you catch him by surprise by slamming down on his cock; Tech lets out a choked moan, the air from his lungs being pushed out, and he almost drops the bolt tightener that he's holding. He perks his head up, groans at the sight of you, and then lets it fall back again. His hands pause mid-air, uncertain if he should attempt to work, or enjoy a brief break. "Tech?" you purr, and his eyes lock onto yours through the tint of his goggles. "Carry on working, love, you're almost finished." "Cyar'ika, you're making this unbelievably difficult," Tech whimpers. Tech isn't always one for praise, unless you're reminding him of how intelligent he is, but maybe he'll accept a few compliments whilst he's literally beneath you? "You're such a good worker, Tech, you can continue with a minor distraction," you praise. Tech's eyes momentarily flick away, as if to question if he really can work in these conditions. You know he's accepted your compliment the second his hands move up, returning to the control panel. "See?" you smile. "Pretend I'm not here. Pretend I'm not riding your cock right now," you tease, and your smile grows when Tech lets out a deep sigh. "I'll get you for this," he threatens in his own, soft, Tech-like way. "I can't wait," you purr, and pick up the pace, positioning your hands on his armoured chest to give your body extra support. Your eyes fall shut just as Tech returns to his work, putting your focus into riding him. Your pace isn't perfect, but it's enough to get you off, and from the sounds you're hearing from your partner, it's enough to get him off too. You're so engulfed in pleasure that you almost don't hear Tech suddenly states "I'm done." For some reason, you instantly assume he's done with you, motioning for you to stop. "Huh?!" you yelp as your eyes snap open. "I'm done with my work," Tech states, unaware of your confusion, and you let out a heavy sigh of relief. He lightly taps your thigh, signalling for you to raise your hips, and with the tip of his cock barely inside you, both of you shuffle so that Tech is no longer pinned beneath the control panel. You slam back down onto his cock just as he props himself up on his elbows, almost collapsing down again from the sensation. Tech curses under his breath, and with shaky arms, he manages to reach up and remove his helmet, placing it down beside him. His cheeks are redder than ever, almost as bright as when you two shared your first kiss, and from the light layer of sweat over his face, you assume that he'll be needing a shower later, and no doubt, you'll join him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" you cheekily smile, and Tech has the audacity to roll his eyes at you. "You're unbelievable," Tech groans as he shifts his legs, placing his feet firmly on the floor, hips slightly raised - the perfect position to begin thrusting up into you. Tech meets your hips halfway, finding the perfect rhythm within no time. He's no longer holding back, moaning and groaning freely, and treating you to the occasional whimper. Tech's hands are snugly sitting around your hips, and his eyes are struggling to stay open, eventually scrunching shut, his mouth remaining parted as he puts all of his focus into fucking you. Your hands grip onto his chest once more, thick plastoid armour pressed against your palms, steadying your weight whilst both of you chase your orgasms. You know Tech is close when he begins stuttering, his mind becoming hazy, but Tech manages to whimper "I'm close." "Inside," you quietly state, and all Tech manages to do is nod. You beat him to it, tightening around his length as your orgasm hits. The sensation of you squeezing his cock has Tech sputtering, mewling beneath you whilst he pulls you down onto his hips and holds you there, his cock twitching heavily as he fills you up. You rock your hips back and forth gently, just enough to milk him, and Tech's grip on your hips tightens as he begins panting; his eyes slowly open, pupils blown, gawking at the sight of you. "T-too much," Tech eventually stutters, so you ease up, coming to a halt. Both of you spend a moment to gather yourselves and catch your breaths. Tech's hands move from your hips so he can prop his goggles up on his forehead, wiping his face with his palms, attempting to snap himself out of his post-orgasm haze. "Good?" you simply question, smiling when Tech nods in agreement. "Yes," he sighs, "so good. I think you'll agree that we both needed that," Tech comments as he pulls his goggles back on, and props himself up on his elbows, looking up at you, still sat on his lap with his cock slowly softening inside you. Tech takes a hold of your hips again, keeping you firmly on his lap as he sits upright. His soft eyes remain glued to yours, and a sweet smile appears on his lips when you playfully rub your nose against his. Tech wraps his hands around your waist, holding you in his lap, enjoying the sensation of your bodies being pressed together. Neither of you speak, but you don't need words to express the connection that you're feeling right now. You cup his jawline, holding his head steady whilst you enjoy some slow, sensual kisses. The taste of sweat is light on Tech's lips, but it's not enough for you to pull you away from him; if anything, you're enticed by how he tastes, parting your lips slightly so your tongue can glide across his. An unknowing amount of time passes as you two remain tied together, catching up on those lost moments; the nights where you can't be in each other's arms, the kisses you've missed due to lack of privacy, the gentle touches that are always kept private. As you move apart, you motion for Tech to tilt his head to the side, revealing your favourite place to kiss. Your hands slide over his shoulders, fiddling with the ends of his short hair, and you plant kiss after kiss on his faint scar, hidden beneath his short, buzzed hair. Tech smiles as you kiss over that area, and once you're done, he presses his forehead against yours. Finally, one of you speaks up. "Would you like to join me in the refresher?" Tech offers. "Of course," you smile, and place a kiss on his nose before shuffling off his lap. Once both of you are dressed, and Tech has tidied his equipment away, you go to make your way through the ship. As you open the locked cockpit door, you're both met with an extremely grumpy looking Hunter. He's sat with his arms crossed, tired eyes, and the only thing he asks is "are you two finally done?" "T-the ship is repaired, if that is what you're asking," Tech replies, struggling to maintain eye contact. "C'mon, you know I'm not on about that," he sighs. "You're lucky that the others wanted to stay outside and enjoy the sun!" Both of you stand there awkwardly, gawking around the ship, looking at everything but Hunter. He lets out a long, defeated sigh before saying "both of you, go and clean up, please. And leave the cockpit door open, it stinks in there." With that, Hunter rises from his chair, and makes his way off the Marauder, leaving the ships' door open to let fresh air flow through the ship. At the same time, Tech and you lock eyes, sharing an awkward expression. To your surprise, Tech states "that went rather well." "You're joking, right?" "It's been a long time coming," he shrugs. "Anyway, are you still joining me in the refresher?" You let out a laugh, but shake your head in agreement. "Lead the way!"

#swwriting #multitasking #tech x reader #the bad batch #clone trooper tech x reader #smut #nsft #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #star wars #tbb fanfic #reader insert #tbbwriting

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