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tinytennisskirt · 4 months ago

Note

Your 'rumours' fic was so adorable!!! I'd love to see some childhood bestfriends with Art from you, like reader just following him around like a puppy since childhood and at first he doesn't know how what to do with her but then she starts to grow on him,

UGH, what's it feel like to be loved???

-🍃

More Than Anything

Summary: ^above^ with a twist of angst and a few changed plot points. Art and his childhood best friend navigate the forces that pull them apart. Whatever he does, she does. He’s not sure what else is more natural than being her best friend. And no matter what she’s told, that will never change.

Warnings: fluff! drinking, mean Patrick, mentions of weed, mentions of sex, one mention of the risk of being roofied (nobody is roofied), a little ANGST. And a kiss.

Little Art Donaldson was having a day at the park when he met a little girl. It was you and there was much to babble about when there were so many things to do at the park and you, in a tiny voice, said you’d never been to the park before. Art took you by the little hand and you willingly followed as he showed you every single section that there was, even the swings.

Art, young, when met with lunch, he dropped his sandwich in the sand. He cried- the meat and lettuce all covered in grains and small pieces of sticks wasn’t a big issue but for a kid, it was quite upsetting to not have a lunch anymore.

You were more little, two years younger than Art, but you knew just what to do. Picnic lunch with your family nearby, stood next to him and asked if he wanted to come have some food with your family. You didn’t know you couldn’t just invite crying kids to eat with you. You were just too young, too pure.

He said yes, obviously. His dad was somewhere nearby on his phone, business call. Didn’t notice Art was sitting at your picnic bench eating fried chicken and watermelon with you and your parents.

Your mom was a sweet woman, so of course she’d never say no to a starved child. Art’s father found him no problem. He wasn’t a bad man either- not angry. In fact he sat down to eat with them and by the end of the meal they’d set up a time to come by and play another day.

From that day on, your parents befriended and you and Art became best friends. Self-proclaimed. Art didn’t know how to play anything but video games and baseball and he slowly got more into tennis, which he tried to show you. You weren’t that good at anything he did, but still, you would play together in the sandbox, run around each other’s yard. It felt like an endless summer with you two. If one of you was out and playing, so was the other. Usually more revolving around what Art did. It was simple, easy, fun. Anywhere Art would go, you were there too. It helped each other’s parents get a little peace every now and then or let them hang out as adults.

You maintained your personality, just as sweet as candy but with a boyish love for adventure, as your mom would say. That boyish side definitely came from Art. Where he was, you were, no matter what. Even if it was up a steep hill, even if it was the river nearby, even if it was the ant hill and you both got a million bug bites. Every scrape you shared, every bruise you compared in the backyard on the tire swing, every scrape from your bikes. Everything was shared.

You were a little in love with him. Even from a young age, the moment you could think boys were cute, you thought Art was the most adorable. It was platonic love, of course. The capacity to truly love wasn’t there, just pending…

And you and Art grew up together. You pursued different hobbies but still found the time, even with school. It was easy the first few years, you were only in kindergarten and then it was elementary. Apparently once you hit grade three you’re not supposed to hang out with anyone younger. Art wasn’t sure what to do, but he spent lunch recess with his friends and first and last recess with you anyway.

One thing was for sure. It was that you would follow him around like you didn’t know any other way, when he was nearby. You’d do whatever he did, even if he invited his other friends. A lot of the neighbourhood kids assumed he was your annoying sister, even when Art said you weren’t. You were just a little girl who liked to stick around.

That was how it was all elementary school until Art was in grade nine and you were still in seventh. The dynamic changed- he was still playing tennis, still seeing you, but more when your parents would see each other. Otherwise Art was with Patrick.

You knew Patrick well. He was around and so were you. Sometimes Patrick was nice, sometimes he wasn’t, but he was just a kid. You’d call Art sometimes and Patrick would pick up and just say “he’s busy!” And hang up. You had other friends but knowing someone pretty much your whole life, having a small itty bitty tiny crush your whole life, and having them turned away by a new crowd was a little hard. He still found time.

Art didn’t know what to do with you when he went to high school. It was weird you were still so young to him.

“Art,” you said. You were finally in high school and found him in the hall. “I can’t find the math classroom, I was wondering-“

“Take a left at the corner and it’s right there. Good luck, I’ll see you later, gotta go!” It sucked, but it was fine. If you had the chance, you’d tag along, still sporting the same following attitude. You went where he did.

Art was cute, yeah, but when he graduated you thought less. Sure you’d follow him wherever, but you had wanted to go to Stanford much longer than he had. Screw him and his two years on you, he was already enrolled. And he moved away.

You barely had a life when he was gone. It was all stupid. He called you every few days and of course you picked up the second your phone rang but it was still stupid. You’d call him whenever you liked which was much more often- and sometimes he’d pick up, other times he wouldn’t.

You and Art hung out a few days before college started. You walked through the city around Stanford, talking in the park. His choice of location. “It’s good to be in the same area as you again,” he said. You smiled as the wind blew your hair around your face, warm. “I don’t have to call now.”

“You didn’t like the phone calls?” You asked.

“No, I loved them, don’t get me wrong, they’re effective. You have no idea how good it was to hear your voice when I missed home.”

Your smile turned into a grin, he matched it. “Now what do we do when we both miss home?” You asked. He laughed and bumped against your shoulder.

“I’ll just call your mom,” he said. You both laughed at his immature humour. It was good to be back with him, he was right.

“Uh huh and I’ll call your dad, no hesitation,” you teased. He shoved you a little so you stumbled a few steps off the path. “I’m sure he’d love to hear all about you and your adventures with marijuana.” You poked him in the ribs as you regained your position on the path. He grinned his crooked grin, the one you knew so well.

“I’d just have to tell your mom that you actually have had your first kiss and you aren’t her perfect little princess anymore.” He said.

“She’d never believe you,” you pretended to judge him, eyes narrowed. “She’d die, she’s so Catholic, Art, she’s sooo Catholic.” You fake groaned and he laughed. It was good to know that even though the distance made things feel odd, the dynamic somewhat returned when you were together again.

“She is so Catholic, but I’m sure she’d be fine with it, come on…” He ruffled your hair up and you gasped.

“Art- my hair took like an hour to braid- and she would die, I’m sure of it. On the spot. Unless you want her to die, I suggest you keep that secret.”

“And you keep your secret about the weed?”

“Deal.”

“Deal.” He repeated, pulling you into a quick hug, smile on his face. He’d missed you. He let you go. But his phone buzzed, it was Patrick, who he said he’d meet. He lost track of time with you. “Shit, Y/N. I made plans to play pool with a friend. I have to run, but I’ll see you soon, okay?” He was already stepping back. You were going to ask where he played pool, you were going to ask who with, just curious, but he was already on the run. It was fine.

Your first day at Stanford, 18 years old, you found yourself in his exact residency building, just on the girls end. It was convenient. Your parents had just left. You had your hair up in a claw clip as you set all your pictures up in the room, covered and made the bed. Your roommate was really nice already, sharing a bag of chips and telling you she brought a mini fridge you could both use. You had a feeling you’d love it there. Stanford was the dream.

You were bringing another box in when Art passed you. “Art!” you said, dropping your box. Art turned, confused.

“Y/N?” He said. He knew you were here just not in his building. He pulled you into a quick hug. “You got a room in this residence? You didn’t even tell me.” He let go.

“I didn’t know which you were in, I didn’t even think it might be the same,” you giggled. He smiled. You looked at the box you dropped. Art kept walking down the hallway, you left all your things to follow. “How are you?” You asked, walking just a bit behind him.

“I’m good! I just was out for lunch,” He said. “Uh- come, I’ll show you my room.” He didn’t expect you to follow him the way you did, but it was always okay. “It’s great you’re here. I would hang out but there’s a party tonight, the frat throws one every year for newcomers.”

You weren’t a party person. “Are you going?”

“I think so yeah, me and a few of my friends. You remember Patrick.” You were glad you hadn’t seen Patrick in a few years, honestly. “He’s over right now in my room, actually. You can say hi.”

“Perfect,” you said, following him up the steps and through the boys-side lounge. “Can I go with you?”

He nodded, swallowing. He knew you didn’t go to parties, he was planning on seeing you tomorrow night. “Uh… yeah. Yes. I don’t see why not, you’ve been to parties right?” He pretended like he didn’t know.

“No,” you replied.

“Okay, well you’ve been drunk at least.”

“No,” you answered. You might have if you’d been around while Art started his late-highschool-early-college drinking era. “Is that bad? Should I have?”

“Not necessarily,” Art chuckled. You were exactly the sweet girl he knew. “Means it’ll happen faster. I have drinks you can have if you want them. This is my room-“ he opened the door to the dorm room and it wasn’t much. Pretty normal, some tennis posters, some video game stuff lying around and Patrick in a spinning computer chair with headphones on. “Patrick.” Art said, hitting his friend in the back of the head.

You looked around, eyes everywhere, then on Patrick as he spun around. His eyes widened and he looked at Art, then you. Art spoke up as Patrick took his headphones off, “You remember Y/N.”

It had been a while since you and Patrick had seen each other. As annoying as he used to be, he was much taller. More hair, more muscle, taller. He wasn’t bad looking, you noted. You didn’t know Patrick was noting the same, just a little more male-oriented in his ways of thinking. “Holy shit, hi.” Patrick said.

“Hey,” you replied, smiling. You could let bygones be bygones. Everyone here was an adult now. “How are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?” Patrick asked.

You were surprised he seemed civil. “I’m good, thank you.” Your smile turned into a grin. “It’s good to see you both.”

“You’ll be back here at seven, hm?” Art squeezed your upper arm gently. He turned to Patrick, “She’s coming with us tonight.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes at you. “Is she even eighteen?” He spoke like you weren’t there- that was the Patrick you remembered.

“Yes, she’s eighteen. And she’s with us, so she’s fine.” He turned back to you. “You go get settled in, we’ll see you later.” He dismissed you- you would have stayed if he didn’t say so.

You waved and said goodbye and the hours passed. You unpacked and got ready, putting on something cute. Your roommate was going too, said she would see you there. At ten past seven, you knocked on Art’s dorm room door.

Patrick opened the door, “It’s her,” he called to Art, looking you dead in the eyes. “You look terrifying with eyeliner.” He remarked with a smile.

You laughed. “Thanks.”

Art rushed out of the bathroom, buttoning up his open shirt. “No, you look great.” He rushed past, then turned a bit to look again. “You look really nice actually. Wow.“

You smiled and shrugged. He finished the buttons and grabbed a can from a case under his bed. “Drink this, you’ll like it.” He cracked it open for you and everything.

“Thank you- what’s the rush?”

Patrick shook his head, sipping from his own can. “No rush, he’s just fast.”

You took a sip, it wasn’t great but it was bearable. You scrunched your nose. Art walked by you again, putting his socks and shoes on. “Rules, Y/N.” He said. “Just in case, okay?”

You nodded. “Rules?”

“Rules,” he repeated. “Don’t drink anything anyone offers you, no matter what it looks like. Don’t take any pills or drugs. Don’t leave with anyone without telling me first.” He said. It was a lot more serious than the rules he’d made up for his own version of tag when you were kids. Time was an odd thing…

“Okay,” you agreed. Art stopped in front of you and stole a sip from your drink before raising his eyebrows and grinning.

“You could just put her on a leash,” Patrick chimed in. You cocked your head to the side and shook it slowly at Patrick. Patrick spun in the chair, “Or if she’s anything like she used to be, you won’t need to.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Things progressed and you went to meet some of Art’s friends to drink more before heading over and you enjoyed tagging along. Art let you choose the music in his car and his friends approved of it enough. Some guys, two girls, you. Art.

Two low percentage drinks made you fuzzy. You weren’t even there yet. You weren’t sure what was expected, but it was odd. You clung to Art’s side the whole time, not physically, but you were near.

Eventually you got to the party and it was loud and crowded and easy to lose people in the hoards. Art slipped away somewhere and you didn’t know what to do, so you finished a third can and you were feeling it for sure. It was weird, strange, loopy, almost. You sat on the stairs, just people-watching. Playing it safe instead of mingling. It was fine.

A while passed, though it didn’t feel like it. Patrick was the one to find you, “Have you been here the whole time?” He asked over the music.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“Maybe Art should have put you on a leash,” he chuckled.

You were drunk enough to ask, “What does that even mean?” You stole his drink and he let you, taking a swig and handing it back like drinking was normal, casual. It was not.

“You know how when you used to follow him around all the time? Like a lost puppy?” He laughed like it was something you’d known, like it was obvious. “Everywhere we would go, you were just trailing behind. As kids we couldn’t even go outside without you following us. I knew you were really you when you came here because now you’re gorgeous- which I hate- but you’re still you, following us to this party.”

Part of that was meant to be nice. You could tell Patrick was drunk as well the way he told the truth so easily. But what he said had the ability to sink in and hurt, burning into you like acid. That’s how Patrick, the practical extension of Art- viewed you? Just some sad girl who followed Art around forever?

It stung to hear. “What?” You asked again. As if you didn’t hear. As if your eyes didn’t gloss over. You had no idea. Did you just not pick up on the fact you weren’t wanted there?

“You’re still you. I should have known when you were still calling him all the time from home. Calling and calling and calling. You still follow Art around like you have that schoolgirl crush on him or something, fuck you’re even here at Stanford, he just cannot get rid of you. I never got why you liked him so much, but yeah, you practically invited yourself here with us. It’s not bad to see you, but you know, it’s college. Be your own person.”

It stung, it dug deeper. You blinked back tears, but you knew Patrick didn’t notice at all whatsoever. You looked at your hangs, feeling the embarrassment and shame in your fingertips. “I’m sorry.” You said. You wished you were saying it to Art.

“Hm?” Patrick didn’t hear you. But you stood up and nodded, repeating yourself to him.

“I’m sorry,” you said more firmly. He heard you for sure, his head turned as you walked by, pushing past people and disappearing into the crowd again. You walked out the door and went back to your dorm. There was no point in staying. You’d be your own person, you weren’t one for parties.

You thought about it the whole way. Had you invited yourself and not noticed? You remembered asking. Patrick wasn’t even there when you asked, for fucks sake. You knew Patrick was drunk, but drunk words = sober thoughts, you’d heard. Patrick was mean, that was for sure. You wondered if it even phased him.

You fought tears, rethinking your childhood with Art. How much of it did he want? How much of it was your parents? You took off your party clothes and slipped into the most comfortable t-shirt and shorts and took off your makeup. You sat in your new bed, knees to your chest and just thought, endlessly, over everything.

You knew you and Art wouldn’t be super close forever, obviously you weren’t naive, but he was always the most familiar thing. New places were always explored with him, new things were always tried with him, anything new was always perceived from Art’s side. Even without him there for a while, it was still something you valued. You didn’t realize maybe you’d been clinging. Had you been clinging? Or was he just a close friend? What was the difference?

You let some of your tears fall down your face. You were in school now, it was new, it was supposed to be fun. And you would be your own person this time, you guessed. You fell asleep with the lights on.

The next day you rolled over and looked at six missed calls from Art. He probably wondered if you got home fine or if you broke one of his rules. You didn’t read anything he sent, you just typed out

‘I got home safe’.

And left it at that. It was easiest. You rolled over and out of bed, into an outfit and asked your roommate if she wanted to get coffee with you. She was easily and instantly a great friend. Coffee turned into going to the thrift stores and talking and talking and talking. You knew each other’s life stories by the end of the day.

You had another missed call from Art around 3pm. You’d call him tomorrow, you thought, before Patrick’s voice chimed back into your head. You decided against it. Classes started tomorrow anyway.

The next day, classes were amazing. You had made tons of friends and assembled what felt like the beginnings of a friend group. After class everyone hit the cafeteria for super salty chicken tenders. Everything Patrick said still hurt, but it was good to have the distraction. Other friends. Ones who you were sure wanted you around regardless, even if it meant staying close by.

“Someone came by here for you,” Your roommate told you when you got home. “Said his name was Art?”

“A friend of mine,” you said. How sure were you of that? “Did he say anything?”

“No, just swung by and asked if you were here. I told him you were out and that I didn’t know when you’d be back.” She said. You eyed the dual schedules of yours and hers hanging up above her desk and the both of you smiled. “Just in case.”

You talked the night away again. She was a great listening ear as you confessed the whole thing to her. She was very sweet about it and gave you one of her ice cream sandwiches.

The next day you were laughing and leaving class and Art found you. You didn’t run, hide, you just looked at him. “Hey,” he started. “You haven’t been answering my calls or texts I thought maybe you’d died.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“I’ve just been busy,” you said. It was somewhat true- you’d busied yourself to be a different person, your own person. “Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just-“ Art stopped himself. “You left early and you didn’t tell me.”

“The party?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Patrick said he saw you. Where were you?”

“I was on the stairs before I left. And then I went straight home and right to bed.” You told him honestly. “I’m sorry.” At least now you got to tell him you were sorry. “Look, I have another class in ten across campus, I have to go.”

“I’ll walk you,” he said.

You had to take a deep breath. All you saw in his offer was pity. Obligations. “My friends are waiting on me, I’m sorry. Thanks though.” You dismissed him.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he said. He wasn’t used to whatever version of you this was. You were sweet, you were kind, you were always willing to stick around if he needed you. You would always hang back if he was tying his shoelaces, but you wouldn’t even walk with him. “See you around.”

“Bye, Art!” You called from ahead. Part of you felt terrible. It wasn’t normal to do what you just did, but it was essential. How would you be someone uninfluenced if you couldn’t break the habit?

A few more days passed. Art would call every now and then. You would never pick up. You were busy. It was the least contact you’d had with him in your entire life- by choice, at least. Camping and vacations never counted. Your roommate said he’d been by twice more.

Another party came up. A Friday night- you, your roommate, your class friends all wanted to go. It still wasn’t your thing but why couldn’t it be? Reinvention.

No pregaming, just one drink in hand at the party you were talking with your friends in the corner, laughing, having fun. There was a guy in your new friend group that had been showing interest, or at least that’s what your friend said, backed up by your roommate. He was cute but he was your height, not taller. He was nice but said a few things that had made you cringe. You were trying to get into the college era vibe by flirting back but it was all empty.

You had no idea how to flirt with someone who wasn’t picking up on simple hints, but you stood with him, talking to him against the wall, closer than your other friends were.

You felt a hand on your lower back, turning to face Art. His hand raised itself to your upper arm, “Thought you didn’t like parties?” He said. No hello, no hi, no greeting.

“I’m giving it another chance,” you replied. “The first one wasn’t great.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Can we talk?” He asked. Your roommate stepped in and removed Art’s hand from your arm. It fell to his side. He looked at you, eyes meeting yours in the flashing lights of the party. You’d put off your friendship enough to allow maybe a conversation. He wanted to talk, he’d been wanting to talk, not sure about what but you nodded. “Somewhere quieter?” He suggested, gesturing for you to follow him. You stepped a few steps in the direction you started before realizing you were following him. You tapped his arm.

“This way,” you said. And you changed direction and headed up the stairs. Every room was occupied. You had no idea where you were going, so you turned to two doors in the hall and found yourself on the frat balcony. Greek letters hung just above your head height. Art closed the door behind you both, muting the inside noise. And he just looked at you, hands in his pockets, eyes soft, summer breeze in the air.

You blinked off his gaze, feeling judged, but he knew you were sober aside from a sip or two. Unaffected. “You’ve been busy,” he started. “I called again a few times, was wondering if you wanted to come with me and Patrick to see a showing of Back To The Future in the campus park this weekend.”

You smiled a little to yourself. Back to The Future was a shared favourite between you and Art. Your expression softened. “I’m not too busy…” you said. “But you’re inviting me?”

“Of course I’m inviting you, I haven’t seen you in a week and a half.” He said it like it was the biggest drop of common sense. “I want you to come with us.”

You shook your head, looking at your feet. You didn’t speak. Art spoke instead, “What happened at the first party? I know something happened, I can assume something happened. I lost you and I never found you and the next day you’re different. You’re not you.”

You weren’t you because you weren’t trailing after him on an invisible leash? You sighed heavily, “I don’t know.”

“You do know. I know you. You know. And we tell each other everything, but you’ve gone radio silent.”

You looked over the balcony, at the trees and the way their leaves rustled in the light wind. You folded your arms over your chest, unknowing of how to answer. He spoke again in your silence, “I’ve missed you.” He said.

You looked at him, “Missed me?”

He shrugged, ��Yeah, why wouldn’t I? When I missed you before I could just call and you’d answer and now I can’t see you when you’re in the same building as me. I’m used to you being around. It’s different when you’re not.”

Your lip quivered like you wanted to cry and you felt burning behind your eyes, but no tears surfaced, just remembering how you felt when Patrick said what he said. You couldn’t let that go. “I just wasn’t at your heels,” you said.

“Hm?” Art stepped forward.

“Like a lost puppy,” you continued. “I’ve been trying to be my own person. Do things without you, without being on your tail at all times.”

He looked like that hurt him. How would that have hurt him? “What?” He asked it like you said something wild and crazy.

“I didn’t want to be some sad girl who follows you around anymore. I know you have priorities, I know you have friends here that you’ve known and connected with and I think you should be allowed your space… from me.” You said. Part of that was gushing and for the first time you realized that staying away from him had only partially been for you. It was an act of sentiment toward him to allow him to enjoy himself without you as a ball and chain.

Art looked like someone punched him in the stomach for a moment as he processed what you said. He changed expressions to concern, then to disbelief and then he just looked sad. “How did you come to that conclusion? Y/N… What? Space? From you? Like I didn’t go through two years of it already, seeing you only at Christmas and Easter?”

“You have great friends here and you see them all the time and you go out and you go to parties and I just tagged along that night, didn’t I? You were going to the party with your friends and I asked to go with you and you-“

“I said yes!” He said, voice a little louder. Trying to get it across. “I said yes. I didn’t think you would even want to go.”

“I want to be where you are. Or I wanted to be where you were, I missed you. I didn’t mean to invite myself. You could have said no.”

“I wanted you there!” He replied.

“Are you sure? You lost me pretty fast.”

“I spent the rest of the night looking for you! I haven’t spoken to three people from that night because I disregarded their existence looking for you, ruined their nights. I wondered if maybe you got roofied or you were fucking some guy in a bathroom- I-“ He ran his hands through his curls. “You didn’t message me until the next morning, I was still out there looking for you when you messaged me.”

Your lips parted and your mouth suddenly felt very dry. A little breath slipped out, a hush. You looked at him and he looked at you, his eyes soft and kind and sweet and just like the ones of the boy who dropped his sandwich in the sandbox. Art shook his head, stepping closer to you, stepping back and standing his ground closer to you. He looked up at the sky, “I love you and I care about you and I do fucking miss you.” He said. “More than anything. I’ve been losing my mind the past week.”

“I didn’t know,” you said.

“I called and came by your dorm,” he replied. “So this is the part where you tell me what the fuck I did to make you think you were someone I didn’t want around.” He was firm, but you could see the pain in his expression.

You swallowed hard, wondering what he would think. “Patrick, um…” you started but talking about it made you want to cry. You tried to get rid of the lump in your throat. “He found me and he said a few things about me being the same little girl who followed you around everywhere when I wasn’t wanted.” Your voice almost broke but you saved yourself, though you couldn’t stop your eyes from starting to tear up.

“Patrick said that?”

“He’s the one who made the lost puppy comparison. I’m not mad at him or anything, he was drunk, but he talked about me calling you all the time, how it all adds up to the same schoolgirl crush and how you can’t get rid of me and you’re the reason I’m here at Stanford and…” you trailed off because it choked you out. “It’s okay, it just made me rethink a lot of things. He said I need to be my own person.”

“You are your own person, what the fuck? Made you think that you needed to give me space? He was able to make you believe that I wanted to get rid of you? After being friends with you for seventeen years of my life?” He questioned it but you knew he wasn’t actually questioning you. It was rhetorical, you knew the answers. “I swear to god, I’ve never given so much as a notion that I don’t want you around other than I couldn’t want you around because you were either too far or just not invited. If I had it my way you’d be invited to everything, I would never not want you around.”

He grabbed you by both of your shoulders, squeezing but resting gentle. You sighed, “But I have followed you around like a lost puppy.” You said, blinking back threateningly hot tears.

“You’re not a lost puppy. Do you think I don’t feel like I’m dragging you around sometimes?”

“You’ve never dragged me anywhere,” you said. You smiled just a little and he couldn’t help but do the same. “I like being around you.”

“I like having you around. I’ve never thought of you as any sort of dog at my heels or whatever the fuck it is you or Patrick said.” He squeezed your arms again, sliding his hands up to the back of your neck, under your hair, bracing you. “You are everything to me, I don’t care where you are, if you’re behind me or in front of me, beside me, just with or around me, it’s the safest, most familiar thing I know. You can go anywhere you want but you chose to stick around me when you were only three and it was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He confessed. You sighed, this time, just out of the peace his words brought.

“I mean at first I didn’t know what to do with a little girl who was depending on me to teach her how to make stick forts and weird knots and how to climb hills but we’ve figured everything out together. And I don’t want that to stop. Fuck Patrick, honestly. You over him, you over anyone, anything, any day of the week, I’m sorry. I’m not that sorry”

You didn’t know what else to do or how to reply. Every word he said kicked Patrick’s take on you to the curb. Everything Patrick had thought about you was disproven, thrown, ripped to shreds. Your heart beat fast, heavily, thudding against the inside of your ribs. You breathed out hard, hoping that maybe it would expel some of the emotion that was overloading. Art’s hands had moved slowly up the back of your neck, unnoticed as he confessed everything and now they rested just at your jaw, thumbs by your ears. This moment of yours before the breath only lasted seconds but felt like eternity. You could have cried, sobbed, even, with the amount of emotion that instantly overcame your body but you didn’t cry or scream it out, there was nothing more fitting than how Art closed the gap between the two of you with a kiss.

His hands at your jaw, yours grabbed onto his sides like it was natural. Like you’d done it a million times. As he kissed you with slightly chapped lips pressed firmly to your own, you found that there was some release, some weight gone. Some ghost butterfly danced around your stomach and your head and the kiss was not long, but not short either, but it was needed and the kiss itself was telling of that. All of your emotion washed out like the tide and came back slowly, regular, calm, known.

You pulled away at the same time, mutually. “I love you too.” You said quietly. He grinned that crooked grin you knew too well and suddenly you were laughing about it. About something, about everything. He kissed you again, of course, harder, laughing through it, his hands around your waist and your arms around his neck and this second kiss turned itself into a hug. An embrace, tighter than the usual ones. He buried his face in your neck as you expressed everything you’d needed to in all of your seventeen years as best friends. He apologized for any distance, any fault in the way he prioritized you, and any time he may have taken you for granted. Being without you was harder than he could have imagined.

And nothing ever changed how either of you felt about each other again. Though… Art started following you around a bit more from that point on, but who wouldn’t want that?

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this is somewhat to your liking, though I followed your prompt a bit loosely with the pacing. Always feel free to request! That goes for everyone

#art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig #art x reader #challengers fic #challengers x reader #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fluff #bestfriend!artdonaldson #best friend! art donaldson #childhood best friend! art x reader #art x childhoodbestfriend!reader #challengers x y/n #challengers fluff

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winterarmyy · 1 year ago

Text

Until Then

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.

Words: 2.3k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: melancholy-ish plot line with fluffy ending

Inspiration: "You still would've turn my head, even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944 and you were heading off to fight in the war" – Timeless (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It was supposed to be a quick in and out mission. Y/N and Tony were sent back in time to 1944; one day before Captain America and the Howling Commandos deployed to their next mission at the Austrian Alps, in Europe.

The duo were supposed to retrieve some lost files regarding Hydra's hidden bunks and labs back in the days. After the fight with Thanos, there were rumours of the re-creation of Project Winter Soldier lead by an organization that once associated with Hydra. So, they need all the information they could get their hands on; including the ones that are lost decades ago.

Unfortunately for them SHIELD used to be shitty at storing physical files back in the days. To be fair they still do, especially now that technology had advanced. Every single information were at the tip of their fingers; from typical criminal records to the name of every single doctor and nurses who were present when the person was born.

They literally have everything. And nothing at the same time.

And honestly, the mission was quick as they predicted. Tony managed to scanned the needed files and some others that he thought would be important. He's extra like that too, which was a plus.

However quick the mission supposed to be, they barely make it though, especially when the guards were suspicious of Tony's apparently "hippie" beard. It was such a shame. So much for dressing up in 40's style. They kind of nailed the outfit and aesthetics, according to Steve anyway.

However, thankfully by the time they got out of the facility they managed fit right in with crowd. The wave of people lead the duo along its current, more and more people joined in to the point that they weren't able to find any quiet place to activate their time device.

"I thought we're still in WWII? Why is there fucking a parade in the middle of the day?" Tony being unapologetically sarcastic as always.

Y/N looked around as she observed, there was couple of people animatedly, albeit, excitedly exclaimed to the streak of success of Captain America and the Howling Commandos in the war.

A little to the right of them, were a group of children who were semi-cosplaying as Captain America and his dream team, passionately play-fighting with the enemies as if they were in a theater performance.

"I guess they're celebrating small wins. Steve and his team did have several successful raids since the battle at Azzano." It was in fact true; what Y/N speculated was exactly the very reason of the current occasion.

Tony simply shrugged as he stretched his neck higher to hopefully find the end the crowd, "Sure, just keep your eyes open for a place to time jump. I don't want to be stuck in the middle of another war." Y/N nodded as she looked around the sides, wondering if there's an empty alleyway that they could use.

The more sketchy looking it was, the better.

The crowd was chaotic with different mix of conversations and cheers; voices intertwining with one another, each sentences criss and crosses into indecipherable storyline. But even then, Y/N could recognized that breathy, slightly giggly laughter anywhere.

Especially when he brushed right by her.

Y/N was well aware of how madly in love she was with Bucky even with the coy cat-and-mouse game they were playing for months. She knew exactly the hold he had on her soul that at some point, she was conviced that he still would've turn her head in any lifetime.

But that idea was only supposed to be one of the secrets in her mind; the thoughts of a hopeless romantic that she was. Certainly, she didn't dreamt of the vision for it come true. But there she was, frozen on her spot when the time stood still on the crowded street in 1944; fortuitously crossing path with man she fell in love with.

There weren't any suitable explanation for this other than it was fate. In that short milliseconds, Y/N saw the resemblance of the sight to a memory of hers in the crowded room a few short years ago; his left arm slung around Steve's neck, letting his weight leaned on his super soldier friend as he let out a hearty laughter.

There were only slight difference from what she saw before and what she currently seeing; Bucky wore an all black suit at that party, now he's wearing his military uniform in a parade. Bucky was dead drunk on Asguardian mead that night, now he's as sober as a soldier deprived of liquor. Bucky's left hand was adorned with high-tech vibranium metal, now that very hand was still made of flesh and blood, still alive.

During that brief moment of revelation, she truly believed that they were supposed to find this.

Whatever this is supposed to be; Fate? Love? Both? She was not sure either.

She was so stuck on holding her gaze on his back as the young soldier walked a few steps away from her that she didn't notice how the people in the surge glared at her unmoving state or how she had been astray from Tony.

Well, at least it only lasted until someone bumped into her and she staggered backwards, inevitably fell on the ground.

Y/N groaned but quickly patted her pockets to find her time device was still there. I mean, she can never be sure if it was just an accident that she fell or someone intended to distract her while pick-pocketing her belongings.

Though other people would probably already stood on their feet but Y/N was still on the dusty road, as she was busy recollecting her mental state rather than her physical.

That was when a calloused hand reached out to her, offering a kind help.

She didn't think twice to take his hand, let alone looking up at his face when she gripped it tight enough to make a solid foundation to push herself against the gravity, "Oh dear me! Thank you so much, sir. I really..." She lost her momentum when she met the pale blue of his eyes, "...appreciate it." She ended the sentence breathlessly.

It's Bucky. Her brain tried to let her process the thought. It was not her Bucky but still... it's Bucky. Her eyes then fell to where their skin touched. Warm and gentle. His left hand felt the exact same as his right. It made her to cave in the urge to hold it a little longer, to savour the memory of what it could've been; not that she weren't fond of his vibranium arm but curiosity can be such a fickle thing.

Bucky smiled, "Glad to help, my lady." And oh dear does he smiled effortlessly, freely; as if he knew he deserved to feel joy in his life.

Even if she didn't want to, she had to let go of his hand after a few seconds too long of holding it when she was already up and ready to go. She returned his smile though her heart was barely tough enough to stop the spreading of its cracks, "Really, I can't thank you enough."

In reality, it was probably unnecessary to thank him that much for helping her to get back on her feet, but Y/N wasn't really thanking him just for that.

Unbeknownst to him, she was thanking him for not holding back a smile, for not overthinking about the things he might have done to draw a conclusion that he was undeserving have the luxury to smile, for unapologetically just living the life he supposed to have.

She thanked him for it.

Bucky chuckled amusingly as he slightly titled his head to the side. A charming pull on the corner of his lips revealed a smile that could swoon anyone on sight, especially her.

"Well, we're having a little party tonight before deploying to Europe tomorrow. So, maybe you can thank me by letting me bring you to the dance? How about that, doll?" She almost forgot that Steve was there next to him, until Bucky references the word "we".

And especially when his words might just pulled Y/N's heartstrings in ways that she could never thought someone could do. It was awfully slow, almost too delicate of a pull, but each inches of it pained her deeply.

If it was up to her, she would've said yes a million times over but she knew she can't. And the voice in her earpiece reminded her of it, "Y/N, we gotta go." Tony urged as he watched her from the corner of the street.

Y/N tried her best not let her facial expression flatter, "Unfortunately, I can't. I'm going back to my hometown today." It wasn't exactly a lie when she made that excuse.

"Ohh, I see. You're not from here, huh?" Bucky was very honest as his reaction clearly showed his disappointment. Though not at her, just at the situation.

Her brows briefly crunch into an apologizing plead before she boldly grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, slightly pulled him down to her level, while the other hand cupped one side of his face.

She tiptoed herself upwards as she pressed a firm yet sweet kiss on the smooth skin of his cheek and whispered against it, "But, I hope this would do."

Lost for words, heck, Bucky was lost for thoughts. What was left was his own heart thumping hard and loud that he bet Steve can hear it from where he was standing. His cheeks became warmer by the second and the redness spreads even to the tip of his ears.

Of course he had his cheek kissed before, but not like this. None of them felt like this. They were always too fast, too hasty.

Hers was different. It lingered a little longer, gently leaving her imprint on him. He can feel her grip on his collar, the stroke of her thumb on his cheek and of course the soft pressure of her lips on the other side of his face. He could everything so particularly.

Bucky was rendered speechless even after she pulled her lips away; it was too soon for his comfort. Eyes wide open, his lips slightly parted as he let himself lost in the pleasant surprise.

He thought she would parted herself and ran away feeling embarrassed, but she did the very opposite. Y/N lead his forehead to lean on hers, tip of their nose grazed, and her lips hovered above his.

So close, yet refused to merge with one another.

Y/N whispered quietly, as if she was talking to herself, "You'll be fine, James. You'll find home in the future. I promise."

Her voice trembled as Bucky just noticed how wet her eyes were becoming. With that amount of tears in them, he wondered if her sight were all blurry now.

Y/N took in a shaky breath before continuing, "You just need to survive the winter and trust me at the end of that season, you'll reach the sun again." Her thumbs softly traces his cheeks as she spoke.

Bucky didn't quite understand what she was saying but if he loosely translate it, it would mean that 'she believed that he'll be back soon after the war'. But then again, he felt like there were some major things that was missing from the context that he came up with.

Y/N's earpiece send another transmission of Tony's voice, "Okay, seriously. Come on, Juliette. Your other Romeo is waiting for you." She couldn't help but to smile as she closed her eyes, letting the excess tears fall down to her cheeks.

She didn't want to say goodbye, as she knew that this was not where their story ends, at least not his; that's for sure. So, she simply smiled up at him with a reassuring look in her eyes before stepping back. She then, briefly turned her attention to the dumbfounded Steve, gracing him with a similar smile before walking away.

It was just a few steps away when her hand was caught in between someone's, "Hey!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see Bucky; wide eye, blinking in disbelief and blushing red, all at the same time, "WiIl... Will I see you again?" He asked, though hesitant; wondering if he was being rude.

Compared to what she had done to him, he was just being too polite.

Y/N chuckled dearly, "Of course." Then she replied confidently, "I owe you a dance after all." Her lips parted into a cheeky grin.

Bucky let out a sharp relieved sigh as his lips mimic hers, "I'll look forward to it, doll." He slightly bowed as his hand pulled hers closer to his lips, "Until then." He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand as his gaze remained on hers.

Apparently, it was Y/N's turn to blush to his antics. She stepped back shyly as her cheeks brightens before scurring away. Maybe, Bucky was right with his prediction prior. She did ran away feeling embarrassed after all.

She jogged towards the next corner of the street, meeting up with Tony. The older might have eyeing her in a teasing manner, but his smirk was the biggest giveaway. Y/N simply rolled her eyes, even if her lips maintained its shape from the aftermath of her encounter with Bucky.

As they entered deeper into the alleyway, Tony spoke, "I gotta admit, young terminator was a hottie. Not hotter than me, of course." he claimed.

Y/N frowned, letting out a scoff, "What do you mean "was"? He still is." Call it bias, but at least she was telling the truth.

Tony shrugged, "Meh. Would argue to differ. But, whatever that floats your boat, I guess?" Tony sassed as they clicked on the time device at the same time, revealing a swirlling portal, in front of them.

Y/N quirked her brow, her hands on her hips, "You're just jealous that he aged like a fine fucking wine and you don't." She purposely challenged his ego.

Tony dramatically rolled his eyes, "Please. He wishes." He walked into portal with an attitude, making Y/N laughed at his childish acts.

She looked back at the alleyway one last time and reminisce the last moments of a past that she never belong in. As she walked into the portal, she thought that maybe, it's time to pay her debt to Bucky.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: The start of bucky drabbles because why not. This is considered a drabble for me because i feel like there's lack of story building. But, you tell me. And did you enjoy it?

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #avenger!bucky #bucky drabbles

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goldenbiscuits · 4 months ago

Text

Concupiscence

John Bucky Egan / Gale Buck Cleven

Summary: A drunken night in London leads to an unexpected exchange of feelings.

Notes: This work is based on characters in the TV show Masters of the Air and is NOT based on the real people.

Tags: anal sex, smut, mentions of war, minors dni, explicit, breeding kink if you squint, bottom gale, top john, minimal plot, lots of feelings

Word Count: 6.35K

Cross-posted on Ao3 -

youdonthaveaclue

----------------------

The pub was loud, men cheered and swinging music vibrated throughout the small space. Drowning out the harsh storm that swirled outside. John and Gale were seated at a booth with a few other men. Most of the boys had happily left their tables and made their way to the floor with the local young ladies, dancing to the loud jazz rhythms.

They looked forward to their days in London, fewer and fewer as those days were. It almost made them forget why they were there. However, the crowds of military men that filled the city and its establishments were a constant reminder of their situation. Most of them held lewd intentions, to leave their drunken nights with a girl. It was a pleasant distraction and was almost expected of the men. Their tortured minds forgetting that dreadful grey sky for a couple of hours was heaven to them.

John and Gale were sitting next to each other, now alone. The impertinent British Air Force men had exhausted their teasing of the two and joined a game of cards a few tables over.

“That girl over there has been eyeing you Bucky.” Gale said with a smile, subtly pointing to a brunette woman at the bar. She was practically staring him down, it was almost comical.

John let out a reluctant laugh, glancing at her, “Yeah, I don’t think she wants to dance..” He said with a knowing look. His lips curved up to the side carving a dimple in his winsome features.

“Oh come on Bucky. Just go talk to her.” He playfully nudged the man’s arm. Gale wasn’t sure if he himself was joking or if he really thought John should approach the woman.

John shook his head, looking down at his drink before taking a small sip of it. Gale had noticed the man’s recent indifference to women. Anywhere they went they virtually threw themselves at him. Gale assumed they were attracted to his large stature and his admittedly.. irresistible smile. A year ago John would entertain nearly all of them, and bring the luckiest one—on the rare occasion, two—along to his hotel for the night. But now he almost seemed to be utterly disinterested in any girl no matter her persistence and allure.

It had not been overlooked by Gale the subtle glances and lingering touches he received from him. Truthfully those little moments were etched in his memory. A deliberate brush of their hands under the table in the mess hall, or John’s palm resting fleetingly against the small of his back when they walked together. Gale found himself revisiting them at night when he could not find sleep. Which was most nights. Those short-lived moments lasted ages in his mind, and he craved them whether he admitted it to himself or not. He felt wanted. But he didn’t allow himself to think that far. So when John shifted closer to Gale in the booth this night and accidentally brushed their legs together, his breath hitched in his throat.

John wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish with the touches he had been giving Gale. Was it just for himself? To feel the other man against his skin, to momentarily satiate his undying hunger? Buck never shied away from his touch but nearly never returned them. His lack of reciprocation only fed into John’s ache for him. Unlike in the sky, the fog and mist of Gale’s feelings excited him, it offered him a moment to decipher the mystery of what laid beyond it. He loved a challenge. Did he yearn for his touch too? Or was he too shy to tell John to stop? Maybe he didn’t even notice them.

John could not keep himself from stealing swift looks at him persistently. Buck’s blue eyes had darkened in the low warm light of the pub. His blonde hair looked a caramel brown. Long lashes casting a sharp shadow on his honeyed skin. Pillowy sialoid lips glistening after each sip of his drink. Without thought John found himself trying to catch a whiff of the man’s aftershave each time he moved. He knew his own physical attraction to Gale was not unrequited but he dreaded the idea of the man rejecting his affection.

But right there in the pub that night his suppressed desire drew too strong. Boldly unbridled.

A few minutes passed before he leaned toward the other man and spoke softly into his ear, “I think I need something a bit different tonight.” He really did not know what else to say, but hoped the man would not dismiss his advances as simple drunkenness. He pulled back and looked to Gale with a somewhat serious gaze.

Gale felt heat rising in his face. Did he mean.. him?

It had been months since the last time they spent a night together in London. The two men had wordlessly agreed to not speak of it again. They were drunk and alone and hadn’t been touched in god knows how long. Men have needs, they told themselves, but the boys could have easily extended an evening with a lonely girl at a pub, if that was truly all it was.

It had started simply. Only a mere brush of their hands as they sat on the sofa together, reminiscing on their days before the war. But just moments later, they found themselves in a heated kiss that lasted for what felt like hours. The boys didn’t make love that night, but they would be lying if they said they didn’t want it, desperately.

For months, words danced in the air between them, unspoken, afraid of the other’s unrequited love.

Seated in the buzzing pub, the men and women around them had disappeared from Gale’s awareness. He could think of nothing but John.

Gale looked at him and he swore he could see the want in John’s eyes. But it was more than that. He needed Gale. He looked away and down at his own hands. John’s gaze was too intense to hold for any longer.

John waited for Buck to speak. It felt like hours had passed. Fear churned his stomach, worrying the man didn’t reflect his own aching limerence, but that thought quickly dissipated when Gale spoke,

“Okay.”

Surprise was evident in John’s expression. He had expected the man to say more, but the only thing on his mind now was a yearning to feel Gale against his skin. He abruptly stood from the table, loudly knocking it in the process, and threw back the rest of his drink. Gale looked up at him. A growing need began to take hold of him. He got to his feet and quickly followed John out of the establishment.

The rain had stopped. Petrichor filled their senses as they walked quietly to their hotel. Both of the young men were practically shaking from nerves.

After entering their shared room, a tension in the air weighed heavy on them both. Neither of the boys knew what to do. They weren’t even sure what the other wanted. Gale remained by the door waiting for John to make any advance or even just to say something. But no words were spoken as John closed the distance between their bodies, inches away from him. Their hearts pounded in their chests. The men were sure the other could hear it, but the sound of John’s heavy breathing filled the air between them.

John looked down at Gale’s blue eyes, they were pleading, and almost black with need. He felt his own heart beat even harder in his chest. His gaze shifted to Gale’s plush lips. He dreamed about those lips of his. Just asking to be kissed, he thought to himself. Ever so slowly, John moved closer to Gale, his eyes darting between the man’s lust-filled ones and his pink pouty lips.

As Gale looked up at John, standing so close to him, his lips mere inches away from his own, the world faded away. All that existed was the two of them and their mutual desire. Their lips got closer ever so slowly before they finally met. The kiss began slowly until John decided he couldn’t hold back. He moved his lips against the other man's with fervor. Gale returned the passion, forgetting to breathe. John’s hand found its way into the man’s hair, his other hand finding purchase on Gale’s clothed bicep. There was a familiarity in their kiss. Perhaps because this was not the first time they had shared one, except, in truth, that one had felt this way too. It was reminiscent of a dance, rehearsed hundreds of times over. Each movement felt orchestrated yet new. It held the passion of a lover's first touch yet it also felt strangely intuitive.

Gale sighed into the kiss. The months of secretly wanting this again with John had been rendering him sleepless. His mind involuntarily reliving the memory of how John had kissed him so amorously. Any guilt he felt about feeling this way for another man had disappeared a long time ago. His father’s harsh words were now muffled in his mind and god help anyone who would try and take John away from him.

John’s hunger burned. He moved his tongue along Gale’s bottom lip. His mouth opened immediately, desperate for him. Their tongues danced as the two men groaned into the deep kiss. Gale’s hands were on the other quickly, holding onto him. Bucky carded his fingers into soft dirty blonde hair and pulled, separating their mouths.

Gale moaned at the sudden action. The other man murmured in his ear, low voice humming against him, “You have no idea how much I’ve been trying to resist you.” A burning heat ignited in Gale’s core and spread through his entire body at those words. John kissed down his jaw and to his lithe neck. Licking and mouthing along his skin. Gale moaned once more at John’s warm mouth as he sucked on a sweet spot between his jaw and his ear. In this moment, all reason melted away. He didn’t care if it left a mark. If anything, he wanted John to mark him.

Gale pulled him away from his neck and connected their lips. He felt like he was starving and Bucky’s body was his salvation. He tugged John closer, a warmth pooling in his stomach. His cock grew hard in his slacks. John’s member was already completely firm against his own. Gale groaned at the intimate feeling. Bucky pulled away, holding the man’s hands as he walked backward to the large bed in the room. Never taking his eyes off Gale as he led him. He yanked his jacket off, then Gale’s. Despite his hurried actions, Bucky wanted to take his time with the man. He gently pushed him onto the bed and climbed atop his svelte body, instantly reconnecting their mouths. As they basked in the heated kiss, John drug his hands down the other’s torso, untucking his shirt out from his pants. Making quick work of unbuttoning Gale’s and removing his tie, before he moved his hands to his own. Gale swatted his hands away.

“Let me.” Gale spoke softly, breathless. His honeyed voice was now laced with a rapturous hunger.

Upon the discarding of their tops and undershirts somewhere in the room, John leaned over him, kissing down his neck. He moaned against him. The taste of his warm sweet skin, it was paragon. John pulled a few small noises from him as he sucked at a sensitive spot on his neck. Gale’s fingers tangled in John’s brown hair as he felt him move lower.

John elicited a loud choked-off moan from Buck as he wrapped his lips around a perked left nipple, fingers toying with the other. He rolled the sensitive bud between his teeth, pulling another groan. He knew Gale was already enjoying this too much and he felt a shiver run up his spine at the thought of what was coming. John wanted to take his time ruining the other man, despite being painfully hard in his slacks. Gale wasn’t just some girl he seduced as a distraction for the night. He was his closest friend. He wasn’t doing this for his own pleasure. He wanted to see Gale come apart, look into his eyes at the very moment and watch as the coil snapped within him. He wanted to be the cause of the pleasure the man felt. At that moment, John felt a wave of possession course through him.

Gale was his, and only his.

“Gonna take care of you Buck.” John said between kisses to his chest.

“Please” Gale let out small quick breaths. His fingers tangled themselves through Bucky’s brunette hair. Desperate for more.

“Please what?” John whispered as he left open-mouthed kisses down his abdomen.

“Need you.. John.” He leaned up and looked down at the man kissing his skin.

“Be patient Buck.” John’s low voice reverberated through his body only adding to the burning desire Gale was already overwhelmed by.

John’s mouth had found its way to Gale’s waistline, kissing along the patch of blonde hair below his belly button. Deft fingers undid the man’s slacks, Gale lifted his hips allowing him to pull them down his legs along with his underwear, carelessly discarding them on the floor.

John sat back on his heels as he stared down at the sight before him. Gale laid there like a fucked out whore and he’d barely done anything to him yet. His eyes were heavy and their darkness burned with lust and need. His sandy hair was tousled. Bruises from John’s mouth had begun to form all over his tanned body. His slender legs had fallen open slightly, long pretty cock swollen and angry as it laid against his stomach, leaking drops of pre-come.

“Fuck, Gale… just look at you.” John’s calloused hands lightly teased along the plush skin of the man’s thighs, caressing every inch. He removed the rest of his own clothes, joining Gale’s on the floor. His hands grabbed the blonde's small waist. He’d always wanted to do this. The pads of his thumbs massaged the skin there as he held him. There was something nearly possessive creeping up the back of his neck as took in the scene.

Gale stared up at the man before him. He’d always wanted to see his best friend like this. John’s darkened eyes were swimming with acherontic desire. His soft brown hair was no longer perfectly styled atop his head. His naked toned body glistened with a sheen of sweat. Oh the scent of him. Gale wished he could kiss every inch of him in this moment.

John’s larger, herculean body deeply enraptured Gale. He knew the man could easily overpower him and manhandle him as he desired. The thought provoked his cock. More slick wetness pooled on his skin as it twitched. He looked to John’s cock after he had removed the rest of his clothes. It stood proudly against his abdomen. Holding an impressive girth, and Gale gasped as he pictured it nestling inside of him.

John leaned forward over the other man, propping himself on his forearm, groaning, as he kissed him so hungrily, Gale thought he might bite him.

He wrapped his legs around John’s waist and pulled him closer until their cocks touched. Gasps filled the quiet room at the sudden stimulation.

“Please John. Want you to touch me.” Gale was already so lost in the feeling of him, he wasn’t afraid to admit what he wanted. He was never one to be so forward, but right now, with Bucky, he had completely let go.

John pulled away from his lips and moved downwards. He placed his large hands on the man’s soft thighs and gently spread his legs further apart. His mouth watered at the beautiful sight. It was sinful. The rope of his fragile restraint had snapped before he laid down between Gale’s thighs. Wrapping his hand around the man’s swollen cock.

A loud, stifled noise escaped Buck at the sensation. John thumbed along the underside of the head of Gale’s cock, eliciting more sweet sounds from him. He ran his thumb along the slit, collecting the pre-come before spreading it around the head. Gale was already a moaning mess. John sighed at the sight and the feeling of the warm wet cock in his hand. Dying to taste him, he ran his tongue over the slick glistening atop the man’s swollen member. A deep groan fell from him at the taste, mouth enveloping the tip of Gale’s length.

Gale’s jaw hung open as wanton moans escaped his lips. The delicious stimulation filling his senses. John’s wet, hot mouth felt too good. He wanted more. He reached down, placing his hand in the other man’s hair. John licked along a vein from the base to the tip before enveloping the head with his mouth again. Hand remaining at the base as he began to take him fully.

“Oh”

“Mmm”

“.. shit”

“Bucky.” Gale said between moans.

He couldn’t contain himself, pulling the man’s hair and moaning at every touch John gave him. He started moving his hips, subconsciously trying to feel more of the man’s hot mouth. John sank down as far as he could on Gale’s aching length. The sounds the man was making were so filthy, he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his own needy cock into the sheets. He took him further, bobbing up and down. John let himself imagine the sounds Buck would make if he fucked him. Praying to God that he would be blessed with that opportunity tonight.

Gale was writhing on the bed, unable to hold still. He’d never felt anything like this before, it was nearly too much for him.

John’s hands grasped his hips, holding him down. Propping himself up on his elbows, Gale looked down at the man sucking his cock. He almost came at the sight of his lips wrapped around him, so focused on pleasing him.

John’s sapphire gaze was long washed away, only a black concupiscence remained. Gale could see just how much he was enjoying having him in his mouth.

Pulling away from the man’s length, John replaced his mouth with his large hand. He shifted himself to hover over the blonde. His own neglected cock was aching, prompting him to grasp both their members, tugging them together in his hand. Gale groaned into the man’s shoulder at the feeling of his cock against his own.

“Need to be inside you.” John’s voice was laced with desire as he spoke the words into the man’s ear before he could stop himself. He nearly froze, afraid his precipitous suggestion would scare him off. But this notion quickly washed away when a guttural moan escaped Gale.

“Please.”

John let out his own groan at Gale’s avid response. An even stronger heat ignited in his core as he imagined the look on the man’s face as he buried his cock deep inside him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

That was all John needed to hear. Gale was completely lost in the pleasure, John pulled away, not wanting him to come before he fucked him. The man whined at the sudden loss of his hand. Bucky laid on his side next to the man beneath him, leaning on his arm next to Gale’s head. He brought two fingers up to the young man’s lips.

“Suck.”

Without hesitation, the blonde eagerly took the two digits into his mouth. Spreading his saliva around them with his tongue. Gale brought his hand up to the man’s wrist, holding him in place while he sucked on his fingers. A deep guttural sound escaped John as he watched. He imagined how good the man’s mouth would feel around his cock. He pulled his hand away from Gale, trailing it down his body. Nudging the man’s legs apart, he brought the slicked digits to his entrance. They held eye contact as Buck let out shallow breaths in anticipation.

John circled the wet fingers around his hole before slowly pushing one inside him. Gale gasped at the intrusion, brows furrowing. The feeling was foreign and a little uncomfortable. He reached up and cupped John’s jaw as he pulled him down, connecting their lips. The distraction allowed the man’s finger to slide into him completely. He slowly began to thrust his finger in and out of the heat, eliciting sweet sounds from him.

A minute or two had passed before John added a second digit. He had almost expected to see a hint of hesitation or even fear in the man’s eyes as Gale shifted his gaze away from between his legs. Instead, they were half-lidded, filled with an intense daze of hunger. Quiet moans fell from his open mouth.

John scissored his fingers inside of him, opening him up for his cock. He added a third finger into the tight heat, earning more whimpers. Just then, John rubbed against a sweet spot deep inside the man. Gale practically yelped at the sudden stimulation. He worked him open until the other man became too desperate.

“More… please… need you… inside.. please.” Gale spoke with a broken voice between breathless moans. “Wanna feel you.”

There were no doubts or notions of reluctance from the blonde. He was lost in the ecstasy John was gifting him. For the first time, he was able to let go of the heavyweight holding down his tortured mind. The burden of responsibility and never-ending dread had floated away the moment his lips touched his own.

The other man groaned at his eagerness. Unable to resist the pleading, he removed his fingers from him, and he was sure Gale had been stretched enough. John reached over the man’s body to the table near the bed, retrieving a small bottle of Vaseline he always brought with him to London. It was meant for the escorts he shared his bed with, but now it was only for the man beneath him.

Gale yearned to feel John inside him. The thought of becoming one with the person he loved most in the world, his best friend, his Bucky. The one who had experienced the same hardships, and held an understanding of how much they both needed this. It sent a chill up his spine. His gaze followed as the larger man reached over him. Muscles stretching and tense above him. Gale placed a hand on John’s chest. He felt the warmth of his skin under his palm. There was no one else he would rather do this with, no where else he rather be. He wanted to remain in this moment forever. This night he had forgotten about the war, forgotten they were in a foreign land, and forgotten that the next time they went up in the sky, could be their last.

John returned to Gale, looking down at him, he kissed his forehead gently. Stroking the side of his face as he admired the man below him. Buck was his best friend. He felt at home when he looked into those gleaming blue eyes. The warm lamp light cast a glow over Gale, he swore he looked like an angel, constellations of freckles dotted his beautiful tanned skin. He was the only person that could help him forget. He freed him from the mental torment of all the brothers they had lost, the mortal dangers of their duties, and that the cards were stacked against them all. In this war, John had lost interest in nearly everything. The only thing he felt he was good for was piloting his plane. But Buck made him feel alive. He was all he had.

He wanted to live for him.

John’s hand slowly made its way back down to Buck’s entrance and delicately lathered the substance around him. The blonde gasped at the cold sensation, and watched as Bucky then spread it over his thick member. He looked down at the other man, laying there, legs spread for him, and his eyes pleading. He wanted to take care of him, be gentle. He felt as if the man below him was a porcelain doll, handle with care written across his chest. But at the same time, he wanted to ruin him. Make him scream his name and beg him for more, tears streaming down his supple skin. John had an insatiable hunger boiling in his core, and he swore to himself he’d never been lavished a voracity quite this deep.

The other held the gaze of the strong man above him. He seemed lost in thought as he admired Gale. In that tender moment, he wanted to confess to Bucky all the thoughts and feelings he had been plagued by the past several months. He had to hold back so much, in fear the other didn’t feel the same. Despite that night they spent together the year prior, he still worried it was only a temporary fix for John. Gale wanted the man to desire him in the same way he did him. All those times he watched him walk out of a pub with a pretty girl, he had to pretend he was pleased for him, but somewhere deep he wished it was himself that would be held by John that night.

Now he found himself in his own errant fantasies. Bucky laying above him, admiring his delicate features, ready to make love to him. Desire swimming deep in his eyes. He brought a hand up to John’s face, tracing imaginary lines, bringing the man back to the present.

John leaned into the warmth of Buck’s touch, and pressed his lips to the man’s palm, slowly kissing down his wrist. He connected their lips in a sensual kiss as he lined his member with the smaller man’s entrance.

In a daze of desire, John was slowly losing himself. When his eyes met Gale’s a sweet dulcet warmth washed over him. “Gonna make you feel good Buck.” He kissed the other man hard as he pushed himself into him as gently as he could.

Gale’s mouth fell open as he felt Bucky’s cock slowly breach his entrance. John shushed him gently, “Shh, just relax Gale.” The other man placed his hand on John’s nape pulling him to connect their mouths. It was all teeth and tongue as the man slowly pushed his large member further into the blonde. When he bottomed out, Gale’s lips separated as his head fell back against the mattress. A few moments passed before the ringing pain of the stretch slowly fell into hints of pleasure. The larger man remained still, waiting for him to adjust to the foreign feeling.

Gale’s eyes opened as he gripped the man’s shoulders, a low whine falling from his lips.

“Tell me how it feels Buck.” John wanted to hear how he was making the man feel. His own reserve was straining against the sensation of Gale’s heat tightly wrapped around his cock.

“S’good.” Gale could hardly form words, he felt so full.

His hands reached down to John’s hips, grasping, aimlessly trying to get the man to fuck him.

Bucky understood what the man needed. Gale felt the drag of the cock inside him before he was jolted up the bed by John’s harsh thrust. His ability to hold himself back had fallen away.

The maneuver sent a burning wave of pleasure through Gale’s body. “Again.” He whined. John’s hand grasped the underside of one of the man’s plush thighs for leverage, easing his thrusts. The sound of skin against skin reverberated throughout the room, variations of sounds falling from both the men’s lips. They were equally desperate for the other. They had let go completely and allowed themselves to relish in this moment without restraint.

Gale’s eyes had fallen shut in the midst of the pleasure John was giving him. His arms wrapped around the man's neck.

“F-feel so full Bucky.”

Christ

Those sinful words went straight to John’s cock. Loudly groaning into the crook of the blonde's neck. The movements of his hips only grew in their intensity.

In need to go as deep inside Gale as he could, he gently pulled out and reached for a pillow. “Why-“ The blonde groaned at the sudden loss of his cock. Feeling cold and empty. “Lift your hips for me Buck.” Gale did as he was told, watching as the soft pillow was placed under his hips. Bucky resumed his former position over Gale. Tender kisses were shared as he felt the warm length breach his entrance once more.

The new angle allowed John’s cock to brush against the bundle of nerves in the man’s core. Gale moaned like he was paid for it. The sounds pouring out of him left John shuddering with an animalistic carnality as he left continuous thrusts to the sweet spot.

“You’re takin me so well Buck.” John grunted out. At those words, the man’s entrance fluttered around John’s cock as he whined. The tightness led Bucky to bite down on the junction between Gale’s neck and shoulder, sure to leave a mark. The blonde shuddered. The man’s teeth dug into his skin. In this moment, neither of them cared if it was visible. He wanted to be marked by him, to let everyone know that he belonged to Bucky. The sight of the deep red mark on the man’s neck fueled the fire of John’s possessive nature. His thrusts stuttered.

“All mine.” John whispered against Gale’s open mouth. More moans were spilt as his thrusts hit harder and became more erratic. The blonde’s hands had been tugging at Bucky’s hair before they traveled down to his back. Dragging along his muscles as they contracted. Nails pressing into the taut skin.

“I- fuck. Bucky oh my-.” The desperate tone of Gale’s moans only grew as he grasped hard at the man’s body.

“You’re close?” John questioned, as his lips brushed against the man’s open mouth. Gale nodded, his eyes fluttered open, clouded in darkness. The man above him reached down and tugged at the blonde’s neglected cock in time with his fervent thrusts. Gale was nearly overwhelmed by the amount of stimulation. Silent moans escaped his throat. Eyes barely remaining open.

“Gonna- Bucky I-.” The words were lost in his throat as the pleasure grew in his core. His body thrashed on the bed. Back arching, pressing himself into Bucky’s stomach.

“Shit. Okay.” John started to pull out from the tight heat, feeling his own release coming. “No! Please. No.” Gale whined as he grasped at the man’s body, aimlessly trying to hold him in place. Bucky froze, worried he had hurt him. A frightened look quickly struck his features.

He stroked the side of the blonde's face. “Are you alright Buck? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-.” The words spilled out from his mouth as his heart hammered in his chest. Gale’s retaliation had sent an abhorrent rush of fear to his gut, churning his stomach. All in a matter of seconds.

“No John. Want you to come inside.” Gale managed to let out. His deep voice completely breathless and debauched.

John’s groaned, his expression softened but his core burned hot. “Jesus Buck.” His cock twitched at the man’s forward words. “You scared me.” The weight of worry left his body as his thrusts resumed, along with his hand wrapped around Buck’s aching member. The resonance of the blonde’s lascivious whimpers coursed through John’s veins, a fresh fracture in thin ice. He’d never been this aroused. Gale’s eagerness for him to release inside of him only fueled the fire within himself as his reserve began to burn away.

Gale’s mind began to cloud. His legs tensed at the impending orgasm. The mere constant abuse to the sweet spot inside him, the large warm hand wrapped around his cock, the man above him—it was all too much. As his eyes struggled to remain open, he garnered the strength to look down at where their bodies joined. The sight of John’s member disappearing into his depths only sent him closer to the edge. His head fell back against the sheets, brows knitted, back arching further into Bucky’s body.

The sight of the blonde’s exposed neck and the bite mark he had left behind earlier—kindled a primal energy within John. He raised his body slightly to balance himself before wrapping his free hand around Gale’s neck. He didn’t tighten his grip. He waited for the man’s reaction. In a daze, it took a short moment for Buck to feel it. Once he did, a deep moan escaped his plush lips. His cock twitched in John’s hand. The enjoyment was evident in Gale’s reaction, so he squeezed lightly around the sides of his lithe neck. His thrusts only quickened at the sinful sounds pouring from the man beneath him.

The vision before him was one he wouldn’t ever forget. Buck looked like a painting. The warm lamp light cast over his sweat-slicked skin. He glistened. Eyes heavy and black with lust. His splayed out, supple yet sculpted body, resembled a michaelangelean god.

“Bucky I- oh my-“ The words were nearly lost in Gale’s throat as the coil within him strained against the pleasure. He felt like John’s woman. Legs spread wide and desperate for the man’s release inside of him. The tenderness with which he fucked him. The way his hand worked his cock. How could he go on living without this moment replaying in his head? The memory of this night need only show itself for a single second before the blood would rush to his cock.

The same thoughts ran in circles at the front of John’s mind. One glance at Buck and he’d be escorting him out of sight. Hungry kisses would be exchanged, but the enemy of time would cut their passions short.

John was nearing the edge. His thrusts stuttered. Thumb pressing into the slit of the blonde’s leaking cock, pulling a strangled moan. “How am I ever gonna take a woman again after tasting you, huh?” His words barely strung together between desperate grunts and moans. Those words hit Gale with such intensity he came suddenly without warning. Ropes of come landed on his stomach and Bucky’s hand as he tensed around the cock inside of him. Sweet whimpers falling from his lips. Hands grasping at the man’s body. John found his own release in that moment. The utterly debauched scene unfolding in front of him drowned him in pleasure. Releasing a moan as his vision blurred. Gale felt the warmth pooling in his core. Neither of them had ever experienced such preeminent ecstasy.

John collapsed on top of the blonde beneath him. They laid there for a moment. The intensity of their passions had weakened John, he was unable to move. Gale stroked his fingers through the brunette's sweaty curls. The weight atop his own body deprived him of the deep breaths his lungs ached to take. Yet he craved this closeness from the man, despite the discomforting heat radiating from their bodies, and the sticky mess between them.

The sound of rain began to fill the small room. Gale had switched off the lamp, bathing the space in blue moonlight. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked the blonde's warm skin. His touch anchored Gale’s heart. For too long, his love swam restlessly within him, and now it had a place to stay. He paid no heed to the sin. Unlike Francesca and Paolo, his ultimate infernal damnation wouldn’t incite regret of his lust, or resentment to his lover.

John’s gaze shifted to Buck’s face. Through the thin curtains, shadows of raindrops cascaded down the window, caressing his features. He didn’t want to let go of him. Afraid all of this wasn’t real and he would disappear. He didn’t know how he could live on if he was gone. Gale was all he had. He made him feel alive. He made him forget.

He traced imaginary lines along the valley of Gale’s chest. “If I was deaf and blind I would still recognize your scent and the touch of your calloused hands.” John mumbled softly against the man’s chest.

The blondes eyes softened, and landed on his own. A smile taunted the corners of his lips. “Don’t get all poetic on me now John.”

Gale was afraid. This feeling was new, and it was ripping him apart. He tried not to think of what lies ahead of them both. That cold unforgiving sky is creeping its way back to them. Every moment that passes it inches closer, and the day when it finally engulfs them again, one might not come back down, alive. Gale decided in that moment he couldn’t live without John. Especially in that base. The number of men decreasing each day, younger and unfamiliar faces filling the empty space. He couldn’t take it anymore, not alone. No one else could ground him the way John did. No one else understood him like he did. No one loved him the same. The thought of losing him stung from the inside. Tears welled in his eyes, but they didn’t fall.

He wrapped his arms tighter around John’s body. The man had the same horrors running through his own mind. He felt John grip him harder in return.

“I’m not going anywhere John.”

“I know.”

As sleep begged to take him, John spoke softly, looking up at Gale, softened cock still nestled inside him, “When this is all over, I wanna buy some land, have a little house, far away from everyone else. And I want you to come with me.”

Gale smiled at him, voice husky and tired. “I want that too John.”

The capacity to which his love consumed him was nearly too much to bear. Drowning him in a lake of unconditional devotion. John was pulling him deeper, to the abysmal plane of their shared ardency.

That night they slept better than they had in months. Bodies entangled, wrapped in a dreamless, comfortable slumber.

------------------

I hope you all enjoyed this one! This is my first ever fic! Well, I did write a shitty one years and years ago but we dont talk about that. For now, this is just a one-shot but I might make it a series. I will hopefully be posting more at some point. Let me know what you think and what you want next! No guarantees I will write what you ask but I might! ;)

#mota smut #mota fanfic #mota #buck x bucky #bucky egan #john egan #buck cleven #gale cleven #austin butler fandom #callum turner #top john #bottom gale #smut #mastersoftheair #austin butler

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sunonyoreface · 2 years ago

Text

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 18

An: Thanks for your patience, March is a really busy month for me! The tension is building and I can't wait for the next part (19 is looking steamy).

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 2800

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of knives, mentions of death.

I think of all the phone calls I’ve made throughout my life. The hundreds of hours I’ve spent talking to friends and family. Sharing the exciting news of getting into college with my childhood best friend who moved away in elementary school. Gossiping with my favourite coworker about an awful shift when she didn’t open with me in the morning. Listening closer to hear the whispers of shared secrets between the few people I really care about. Talking late into the night about that one person I couldn’t scrub from my mind. The conversation slowly dying down but neither of us ready to hang up. Neither of us ready for the silence after the line goes dead. The relief of hearing their voice after days or weeks of nothing. All those conversations flicker through my mind as I stare at the landline sitting on Captain Price’s desk. It’s a clunky, faded, black thing with a rubber coil attaching the receiver to the phone and the numbers on the keys have long since rubbed off.

I’m not prepared to hear his voice. After learning all I know about him, I don’t think it’ll sound the same. There’s no way the man I’m about to speak to is the one I’ve known my whole life.

Soap was supposed to be here. Then five minutes ago, he was called out to demolitions by another sergeant who said it was “urgent”. I wasn’t sure what his specialty was until recently and after getting to know him better, it makes perfect sense. He spends almost every waking moment out there, yet won’t tell me what they’re doing. Whenever I ask, he sits up straighter and has to suppress his smile, but I don’t miss the excitement in his eyes when he says it’s classified.

Right now I’d rather be there with Soap than sat in front of Price and Ghost and some scrawny man with equipment hooked to that damn phone. I’d rather be almost anywhere than here.

The script crinkles in my hand. The Captain already gave the go-ahead. Now it’s all on me. I feel Ghost’s eyes on me. I want to find some comfort in them, but just can’t. After he left, he told Price about the mole. He had to, I get it, but I also can’t help the feeling that nothing I say will stay between us.

I wish I was back in his room, lying on top of the covers and reading his copy of Huckleberry Finn knowing that no one could get to me. Only Simon.

And then the phone is in my hand, pressed against my ear: ringing once, twice. And then it stops. Shuffling sounds fill the other line. Then, I hear his voice. That voice that softens when it speaks to me. That has always been so understanding. That ordered those men to mercilessly take the lives of innocent civilians praying for salvation.

“Y/n?” he asks, almost unsure – like the possibility of talking to me might just be too good to be true.

“Hi,” the word dad almost slips from my lips, but I know if it does, I won’t be able to keep it together. My hands don’t feel attached to my body. Like somewhere in the numb space of my forearms, they were simply disconnected. My mouth is dry and I eye the script, but can’t get the words to come into focus.

“Are you okay? Have they hurt you? Are you eating?” there’s just something to his voice, that I can’t quite pin down. Something disingenuous. Like he’s only playing the role of a concerned parent. When I meet Ghost’s eyes, I know he hears it too. He nods, urging me to speak.

“I’m fine,” my voice is strangely even. “They said I could see you again. That they’d make a trade,” the rest of my body disconnects from my mind and suddenly I’m standing beside Ghost watching myself talk on the phone. The hope in my voice is real. The girl on the phone is going to go home safely to her dad. And it sounds like she genuinely believes every word she’s saying.

“Oh my sweet girl,” he croons. “I want nothing more. Your mother and I have been worried sick.”

“Mom?” I latch onto the hopeful word. “Is she there with you?”

“No, but she’s somewhere safe, being guarded by some of our best. You’ll get to see her soon,” he purposely leaves out her location, unknowing of 141’s extensive intel.

“Dad, I-I,” just like in the script, Price audibly warns me we’re short on time. An intentional move to add more pressure to our conversation. My father will have heard him in the background. “They said I can’t talk much longer,” my tone is rushed and worried. I see a small smile tug on the corner of Price’s mouth. I’m convincing.

“Hey,” he says. “Soon enough we’ll have all the time in the world,” the ultranationalist who snuck into my room said he was displeased that I leaked the ambush info, but you’d never pick up on that while listening to him on the phone. He hides his cruelty so well. Even knowing what he’s capable of now, the man I’m speaking to just doesn’t sound like the type. “But y/n, I’m going to need to know what they want from us first. Okay?”

“Okay,” I mumble like a scared child. I smooth out the script across my thighs and read off their demands. I recite the names of five men. Two of their leaders and three of 141’s soldiers who were taken prisoner at one point or another. Neither my father nor my uncles are on the list. There’s no way they’d trade one of themselves for me. Even I know that.

“Those are the men they want?” I hear a newfound tension in his voice as he shifts in his seat.

“That’s what they told me to say,” my eyes are glued to the paper. If I look at Ghost or Price now, I’ll lose my concentration.

He sighs deeply, “I’ll need a few days little bird, those are some top dogs. But I’m going to get you out, don’t you worry.”

I sniffle as though this is too much. Like hearing his voice made me realize how much I miss him and now I might cry. “Love you,” my voice cracks.

“Love you too darling,” the line goes silent for just a moment. “I’ll be in touch,�� with these words, his voice significantly deepens. He’ll be in touch. He has his ways of contacting me despite 141’s precautions. I should expect a shadowy visitor very soon.

Then he hangs up. I place the phone back on the mount. Horror creeps its way up my shoulders and I know I’m back in my own body.

“Well done,” Price congratulates me. He’s surprised I did so well. I don’t come off as the type of person to perform well under pressure – I normally don’t – yet the phone call was almost flawless.

“Thank you,” I attempt a small smile, but inside, I feel awful. Dirty. Blindsided. I can’t believe that is the same man I’ve known my entire life. Sinking betrayal anchors my bones to the depths of the Mariana Trench. The immense pressure makes my head feel as though it’s about to implode upon itself. But along with the shame I now carry because of our kinship, there’s also molten anger stirring within my core, threatening to erupt.

“Thank you, Sergeant, you’re dismissed,” Price turns to the man who recorded the call and waits for him to leave. Ghost hasn’t said a word almost this entire time. Yet he closely watches the man leave with his equipment as suspicious as ever. He doesn’t trust a soul. Especially now. “Within the next few days, your little friend will pay another visit. We’ve installed another camera outside your door and tapped the room. Tell him the truth, just like he asked, we don’t need to aggravate them further, but it is essential he doesn’t think you snitched again,” Price’s tone has turned serious. He understands the gravity of the situation.

The ultranationalist could decide to kill me if he thinks I snitched again. He would certainly order the execution of my friends back home. While Price doesn’t care about them, he needs me alive. They won’t have the opportunity to ambush the Ultranationalists without me alive for a supposed exchange.

“Any questions?” he asks. For once, I have none.

“No sir.”

“Right. Ghost, your request is approved. Take the afternoon to complete it. Return her to her quarters before 1800,” he nods once toward the lieutenant. And then we’re off.

I don’t know why, but I expected him to say something as we navigate the halls. However, like usual, Ghost is completely stoic.

When we first met, I was always silently instructed to walk in front of him. Ghost was suspicious of me. Despite being cleared by intel, part of him still considered the possibility that I could be an Ultranationalist. By walking behind me he eliminated any chance of a surprise attack. His analytical eyes would trail up and down my frame trying to decipher any hidden motives. He’d take note of the length of my stride. How I hold my head, my shoulders. How my hands fidgeted and I picked at my nails and then my cuticles once they were too short.

Something has changed since then. A lot has changed.

Now I walk beside him. Close, but not close enough that our arms brush. Not close enough to attract suspicion. He no longer glares at me like I could turn on him at any moment. There’s so much more depth to his eyes when they steal small glances my way. Sometimes – like now as we walk along the sparsely populated halls - I feel him step closer so we’re almost touching, the heat of each other’s body is just noticeable, before he reminds himself that someone could come across us at any moment. Then, after a brief moment of indulgence, he once again shifts away to a more professional distance. I sense the same kind of longing pulses through his veins as mine.

My thoughts are interrupted as we continue to walk past my room.

“Aren’t you dropping me off?” the confusion is evident in my voice as my pace slows. Ghost turns to look at me while keeping his pace.

“No. We’re training,” he says. Training? Is this the request Price mentioned earlier? What kind of training is he referring to? What is Ghost planning?

“We are?”

“Affirmative,” he confirms. His long legs are hard to keep up to as they stride with purpose.

“What kind of training?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” Ghost says. And if I’m not mistaken, I almost detect a hint of teasing in his voice.

Yet, Ghost doesn’t take me to a gym or shooting range, instead, he leads me right back to his quarters.

“Is this a joke?” suspicion is evident in my voice. I hesitate as he waits for me to enter first.

“Negative,” the curt response is typical. He isn’t about to volunteer any additional information.

“What could we possibly train for in your room?” my mind involuntarily wanders to a variety of things, but none that will help with the exchange. As I make eye contact with him, my cheeks flush almost immediately. Ghost’s gaze is strong and unwavering. He knows exactly where my thoughts have drifted.

“I’ll show you,” he motions to the door. A small ball of nervous energy forms in my lower stomach. The type that has no place being here right now. The type that’ll get me into trouble. “First, I want to know your thoughts on the phone call?”

“I don’t want to think about the phone call,” I say as I leave him behind in the hall. Once inside, he takes his vest off and hangs it on the back of the door. Facing away from me, he slips off the skull mask and quickly replaces it with a plain black balaclava. My whole body freezes at the sight. I can’t believe he just took it off in front of me. His hair is darker than I thought it’d be. The strands are a stark contrast against his fair eyelashes. He wears it clean cut like most men in the military, short on the sides and more forgiving on top. But it’s overall longer than I imagined. My mind drifts to what it would feel like to run my fingers through the delicate strands. To gently trace my nails along his scalp. To roughly grasp him by the hair as he–

“It’s not often Price congratulates someone on their performance,” Ghost’s head tilts as he gauges my response. I don’t speak, my mind still stuck on the fact he took his mask off in front of me, even if I couldn’t see his face. “You were almost as good there as you were during the interrogations,” he continues. Heat creeps up my neck. I don’t know if it’s a feeling of flattery or embarrassment.

“I’m not good at it. It feels like I’m not even there,” like the actions aren’t even my own. It’s a dangerous feeling. How far can a person go when they don’t feel responsible for their actions? How far could I go?

“But you know you are?” his tone becomes mildly concerned. Does he think I’m slipping from reality?

“I know I am. It’s just easier to separate myself from what I’m doing,” I think out loud, my voice slowly fading toward the end of my sentence. Maybe it’s my brain’s way of protecting myself?

“Y/n, if it’s too much let me know,” Ghost says seriously as a gloved hand reaches out and touches my chin. It has been too much since the moment they kidnapped me. But now all I can do now is figure out how to survive until the exchange is over. “For this too.”

The second half of his sentence catches my attention.

“And what is ‘this?’” what does he keep alluding to?

Ghost’s delicate hand on my chin leaves as he reaches for something strapped to his belt. The gloved hand unsheathes a steel knife. He flips it around and offers the handle to me. I hesitantly take it from him, all the while closely watching his eyes. There’s a glint to them. Something troublesome. At this point, his intentions could be anything.

“What’s your safe word?” his husky voice is suddenly a lot lower as he takes a step backward and squares his shoulders. There’s an ambiguous spark in his eyes. One that’s about to catch fire. I can almost smell the damp, smouldering smoke in the air.

“Safe word?” my breath catches in my throat and I try to force a swallow. I choke back a nervous laugh. He’s joking, right? The knife feels unnatural in my hand.

“Think of one, sweetheart,” he rasps. There’s that damn name again. The one that makes it so fucking hard to think. My mind snags on it like a loose thread to a nail, pulling every thought out of order. Only he can mend me.

“Um, I don’t – Soap, I guess?” his call sign comes to mind first.

“Not Soap. Something different,” his head juts to the side with disapproval.

“Okay. Fine. Pizza then,” I’m still confused as to why he wants me to have a safe word.

“Pizza,” Ghost repeats to himself, burning it to memory. He takes another step back and I almost feel myself relaxing. My shoulders don’t feel so tense. The knife is no longer so heavy. I glance down at the mean little thing in my hand. I wonder how many people have died by this blade?

Ghost doesn’t wait for my eyes to return to his. From the edge of my peripheral, something large lunges at me. He’s incredibly fast. Just a flash of movement in the dim light. Fear hasn’t had the chance to take over yet. Instinct kicks in and I jump back out of the way, just narrowly escaping his first attempt at grabbing me. But there’s nowhere to go. The room is small and he’s closer to the door than I am. He wants me to fight. He’s forcing me to.

“The fuck are you doing?” I angrily spit at him as I corner myself between the dresser and wall, knife still in hand.

Ghost looks as terrifying as ever as he shifts to face me once more. His intimidating frame takes up the entire walkway between the bed and dresser. Those thick shoulders heave along with his chest as his breathing deepens. His gloved hands stay open at his sides, eager to grab at me again. Ghost’s sharp eyes look darker than before. He is completely locked in on me.

There is no escaping what comes next.

Pt 19:

738 notes · View notes

bambikisss · 2 years ago

Text

Celebration: Wonwoo

-> Assistant!Wonwoo x CEO!reader

-> Summary: After your company became top in your industry, you decided to celebrate with a large party. While there, your assistant begins to seem different to you; more of a man than usual.

-> coworkers to lovers, in a closet, biting, semi-drunk sex, unprotected, spit, oral (both receiving), multiple rounds, sex in semi-public, degradation, Mingyu is mentioned, use of panties, slight choking (on his D-), big D WW, this is going to be a filthy one. + some surprises

NOT PROOFREAD

-> A/N: Here is the 1,000 follower celebration post! Sorry for the wait as I was sick and then traveled. But, it is now here! I tried a different style this time, so I hope you all enjoyed it. Smut with little plot (lol)

TAGLIST: @remyrachel @enthralled-bandit @koogyusan @leiiecleo

@goodforgyu @laciexrx @jjjzzz @springdaybreaks @asjkdk @xrubyrosesx @chibby11

. . . . . .

Friday, 6:55 PM

"Alright, alright. I'll play, I'll play!"

You sat down with your coworkers, taking the shot of vodka WonWoo offered you. You decided to host a party to celebrate the New Year, paying for everyone's drinks while they partied. You decided to let loose and party with the others, which was how you were now playing a game of "Dare, or Drink."

"Alright, It's WonWoo's turn!" He confidently leaned back in his chair, fixing his glasses as he looked around the table as he waited for whatever came his way from the druken secretary. She smirked before saying "Take a shot of fireball or..." She turned to you with a mischievous smirk, saying "striptease and lap dance on your CEO." The table erupted in cheers, cheering for WonWoo to the dare. It made you wonder what they were talking about before you came over to join them. "You guys know I hate fireball," WonWoo groaned, trying to plead with the others, but to no avail. He looked over at you, asking if you were alright with what the options were, securing the idea that he would rather striptease and give his CEO a lap dance than drink fireball.

Once you nodded, he sighed as he stood up, asking for someone to play some music "so it wouldn't be so awkward." Once the music started, he apologized to you softly before he placed his foot onto the chair, pushing you farther away from the table so he could stand in front of you. He gently moved his hand down to cup your chin, tiling your head up so you both could make eye contact. "Keep your eyes on me. Don't look anywhere else." You nodded softly, keeping your eyes on him as he stepped back. He slowly pulled up his shirt, tossing it onto the table as he immediately moved to his belt, slowly pulling it from his body as his once tight pants now slightly sunk to show the brand of his underwear. He gently held your hand, placing it onto his large pecs before letting it drag down his body, moving his hips to the music. Neither of you cared for the squeals from everyone else at the table, only focusing on one another as your hand moved to the top of his pants. WonWoo raised an eyebrow before leaning back to the table, picking up the shot glass that was filled with fireball before he carefully straddled you, gripping the side of the chair as he leaned in closer to your ear. "Drink this for me, won't you baby?" You tried to hide your reaction from everyone else as he pressed a kiss to your ear, pulling back to tap the rim of the shot glass to your lips. Once you opened your mouth enough, he began to pour it into your mouth slowly, making sure that you didn't choke. When some did spill down your cheek, he tossed the glass back onto the table before he leaned in to lick along the alcohol, cleaning up as he moved up your neck.

You met his eyes as he placed both of his hands onto the chair, noticing the way his eyes darted back and forth from your lips to your eyes, licking his own lips as he squeezed the chair, slowly leaning forward to hover over your lips. "I thought you didn't like fireball?" WonWoo halted at the coworker's question, rolling his eyes as he got off of your lap, getting dressed as he laughed. You tried to understand what just happened, trying to not pull him into the nearest closet.

You sat through the rest of the game, slipping away to go to the bathroom while the others ordered another bottle of alcohol for the next round. You splashed some water onto your face, moaning softly at the feeling of cold water hitting your face as the alcohol slowly filled your system. After you sobered up a bit, you left the bathroom, taking a deep breath in the hallway.

"How are you feeling, Ms. L/N?" WonWoo gently cupped your wrist as he made sure you were alright, mentioning that you both were slightly buzzed from the drinks. Your mind went straight to the fireball; how WonWoo licked up the bit that spilled from your mouth, how he looked at your lips, how he leaned in close as if he wanted to kiss you. "You know, Ms. L/N, you told me that you'd never be with me because you viewed me as a boy, not a man." You met his eyes as he moved one of your wrists to his lips, kissing them softly before dragging it down his chest, placing it onto his hardening cock as moved closer to you, pressing his chest to yours. You held back a moan as he you felt his cock twitch in your hand, biting your lip as he placed his free hand to cup your jaw, placing his lips over yours.

"After tonight, Ms. L/N, do you view me as a man, or do I have to show you?"

You leaned up to meet his lips, kissing him feverishly as he moaned into the kiss, carefully nobbling on your bottom lip. Kissing WonWoo felt different than everyone else you had ever kissed; you could tell her wanted you. He chased your lips every time you backed away to take a breath, he gripped your body close to his. WonWoo wanted to drown in you forever if you'd let him and you were starting to no longer be so opposed to it.

"Come here," he led you into the nearest storage closet, pressing you back up against the door as he kissed you passionately. "I've always wanted to do this with you, Y/N,'' He murmured against your lips, placing his hands into your hair as he began to roll his hips to meet yours. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

"How long?" You closed your eyes as he began to help remove your clothes, pulling it from your body to throw it on to a table. WonWoo stepped back to admire your body, biting his lip as he carefully removed your bra. If it were anybody else, you would feel a bit embarrassed. But, since it was WonWoo, it didn't feel so bad.

"So long, baby. Since I got hired." He leaned down to cup one of your breasts, pulling it carefully from the bra so he could wrap his lips around your nipple. You sighed as his tongue moved around your breast carefully before switching to the other one, his hands working to carefully remove your bra. "I've been trying so hard to get you to see me as a man, but you always seem to see and treat me like a little boy."

WonWoo in the past did make many attempts at asking you out; from using flirty looks to offering to take you out while you were out on work trips. You, however, only saw him as a sweet assistant rather than a man you wanted to be wrapped up in. Now that your sweet assistant was kissing down your body and placing your legs onto his shoulders, you want nothing more than to be wrapped around him.

He carefully removed your bottoms, placing your underwear into his jean pocket before returning his attention to your wet cunt. When you asked him about why he took your panties (not that you minded), he only winked before licking up your pussy slowly, flicking his tongue teasingly when he reached your clit. "You taste better than I imagined, baby. Can't believe you've been keeping this beautiful wet pussy from me."

WonWoo looked up at you as he wrapped his lips around your clit, moaning as one of your hands went into his hair, holding him close to your pussy, making him chuckle deeply into you. "Don't worry, baby, I don't plan on leaving this pretty pussy until you wet my face and cover me in your sweetness."

"More WonWoo, please," WonWoo moaned at your words, licking you hungrily as one of his hands slowly slid up your thigh. His fingertips caused goosebumps to come onto your skin, slowly moving to push your leg apart on his broad shoulders. He slowly pushed a finger into you, moving his tongue faster as you began to move your hips against his face and finger. "You're doing so good, baby. Keep it up and I'll make sure you cum nice and hard for me."

"Fuck, WonWoo," you gripped his hair tighter as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to snap, mumming out weakly that you were going to cum. At your words, he quickly pulled back to toss away his glasses, cursing softly as he shoved his face back in between your legs, licking and sucking anywhere he could as he added another finger into you, moving quickly. You covered your mouth as you came, shivering as you felt his tongue move faster to gather your sweetness.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking amazing, baby," he moaned against you, his deep voice cracking as he placed a sloppy kiss to your pussy before pulling back. He gently rubbed your legs until you calmed down, carefully placing you down so he could stand in front of you. You opened your eyes as he licked his fingers clean, keeping eye contact with him as he did so. "You taste better than any fireball could be."

Before you could respond, there was a knock on the door, making you both jump. WonWoo jumped to place his hand over your mouth, cupping it as he waited for whoever was trying to get in to leave, giving you the chance to admire him now up close; his messed-up hair, his wet bottom half of his face, his veins and muscles on display. You held back the idea to sink to your knees and suck him off as he removed his hand from your mouth at the silence, biting your lip as he moved to pick up your clothes that he had discarded.

"I think it was the janitor trying to get to the supplies. Here," WonWoo carefully helped your get dressed, letting you lean on him as he did so. He carefully rubbed your body, giving you a moment to relax before he gently kissed your forehead. The moment was calm and relaxing as WonWoo gently praised you, ending abruptly when one of the staff members broke a glass bottle, breaking into laughter afterwards. "I should go deal with that," WonWoo cleared his throat before stepping back, picking up his glasses as he cleaned it. You let your eyes roam his body, noticing his hard on that was now noticeable; the same one that you had felt twitch in your hands before he pulled you into the room. When you mentioned it, he chuckled as he reached for the doorknob. "I can take care of it, Y/N. You don't have to." Before you could respond, he left the room, leaving you in the closet while he left to go take care of his drunk coworkers he had abandoned when he saw you enter the hallway.

You took a moment to compose yourself before joining the others watching as he helped usher out the drunken patrons to their rides. He laughed as the secretary bumped her head on the top of the car, making him stifle a laugh. WonWoo heard you, turning to you with a smirk before shooting you a wink, then mouthing "Have a good night, Ms. Y/N. Dream about me, yeah?"

You felt your cheeks heat up as he left, biting your lip as you felt your arousal return, sticking your pants to your body, reminding you that he had taken your panties home with him. So, when you did get home, you took care of the arousal until late, then you indeed did dream about him.

Thursday 7:33 pm

"Ms. L/N, the mic is ready for you."

You thanked your secretary before fixing your dress, grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the passing servers before going up onto the stage, clinking your glass to get everyone in the large ballroom's attention, only beginning to speak when you were sure you had all of their eyes on you. "I'd like to thank everyone for coming tonight to the celebration of AdoraU acquiring the Manase company. As many of you know, we had been in competition with them for so long, both vying for the top spot. But, as of yesterday morning, the CEO and I have put our differences aside and have combined assets, now making AdoraU the top provider in the food chain!"

You smiled as everyone cheered, smiling at your former competition's CEO as he bitterly chugged down his third glass of whiskey, upset that he was no longer in charge. You had been watching his company slowly lose its prestige, consumers coming to your company instead of his as his company. So, when the old man finally gave in and came to you to buy his company, you knew you had to celebrate with a large party, inviting everyone in your industry along with all of your staff.

As you carefully walked down the stage steps to join everyone as the orchestra once again began playing, your secretary approached you, a visible pout on her face. When you asked what was wrong, she showed you a message between her and WonWoo, asking if he was coming. "I think he forgets that I can see when he reads my messages."

"He's probably just running late. You know he never misses a party that I throw, especially when it's a big one." You patted your pouty secretary's back as you placed your empty champagne glass down, smiling as you were approached by your former competition. "You really had to bring up the fact that you're at the top of the industry like that?" You offered the man a simple smile, using the moment to form a proper comeback.

"Oh, WonWoo is here!"

You glanced up at where your secretary was pointing at, blocking out the man's words as your attention was now on WonWoo.

WonWoo carefully made his way down the marble staircase, fixing his watch as he did. You admired his black suit that outlined every muscle on his toned body, showing off his broad shoulders and biceps. Even with the face mask on, he looked so hot to you. You felt the same feeling that you had gotten last Friday during his lap dance and strip tease, making your cheeks heat up and your panties dampen once more.

"Ms. L/N, are you even listening?" You snapped from your stare, mumbling out a measly apology as you returned your eyes back to WonWoo, meeting his eyes. His eyes flickered to see your dress, cursing softly since he couldn't see much of it. He tilted his head towards the small booths that were on the second floor, letting you know that he was going to be up there.

Waiting for you.

"We can talk later, alright?" You patted the man's back before going upstairs, following where WonWoo had just went. You knew people had been looking for you, but you didn't care in that moment. You wanted to see him in private, even if it's for a few minutes. Ever since he ate you out in the closet, WonWoo has been strictly business; he no longer flirted with you while he looked over documents with you, staying on topic no matter what. The one time you tried to bring it up, he only said "Ms. L/N, we should focus on this. It needs to be sent out by the end of the day and I don't want to be yelled at because this is an important deal."

Now that you had him alone, you wanted and needed answers. He had been in all of your dreams, making you wake up wet. You needed to know if it was a one-time thing. If he felt the same way.

You paused at the top of the stairs, looking for the man you had been thinking of, smiling when you saw him in one of the booths in the very back. You tried to calm your breathing as you made your way over to the booth, sitting down across from him as he removed his mask. "Sorry for being late, I had to find a parking spot. The only one I could find was at the top." WonWoo smiled at you as he took out his lighter, flicking it open as he lit the single candle that was on the table, adding a slight red glow to both of your faces. It looked like a romantic date; two people sitting in the back of a fancy restaurant eating a candlelight dinner while whispering and laughing over each other.

You had been having thoughts about relationships recently, mostly since after last Friday. After all of the flirting WonWoo had done, you wanted to see how much of what he had been saying was true.

"Better late than never. I thought you may now be so work focused that you couldn't make some time to celebrate with me."

WonWoo chuckled lightly at your words, fixing his glasses as he leaned back against the plush velvet seats. Sure, he had been wanting to focus more on work as he wanted to ensure that the company stayed number one as long as possible, but he would never skip an opportunity to be with you; to talk to you, possibly about last Friday.

However, you beat him to it.

"So, is this your way of telling me that you want to keep our relationship strictly professional? If so, then just let me know so I can write off what happened between us in the closet as some drunken-"

"Y/N, you and I both know we weren't drunk enough to make such a decision." WonWoo gently placed his hand onto yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand before he placed a gentle kiss to it. To the passing eyes downstairs, it was a simple nice gesture. But, now sitting in front of him and being able to look into his eyes, you knew that it meant more than that to him. "Everything I did that night- from the lap dance to having you in the closet on my shoulder with my face buried in your pussy while you moan my name- everything. I don't want to forget about anything, I want to show you that I'm the man you need."

You are known for taking people at face value; what they show you is what you believe, however, you aren't against doing some investigations.

"Ohh, fuck, Y/N, baby yes," WonWoo's moan echoed in the bathroom, bouncing off the walls as you moaned around his cock. Despite how many times you imagined how big he'd be numerous times throughout the last few days during your nightly sessions, you didn't think he'd be that long and thick. "Breathe through your nose baby and wrap one of your pretty little hands around my fat cock, yeah just like that." You moaned around him as he spat out a curse word, cursing lowly as your tongue ran up his cock. You looked up through your lashes at him, humming around him as he choked back a louder moan.

"Goddam, baby. You're better than I've thought about, damn." He gritted his teeth as one of his hands came down to form a ponytail in your hair, pulling you back so you were looking up at him while his cock sprung up against his stomach. You moaned at the sight of him a mess; his hair a mess from him running his hands through his hair constantly, his button up shirt open to show his chest.

"I bet you love seeing me like this. Know that I love seeing you like this after imagining it for so goddam long," he smirked as you moaned, tilting your head back more as his other hand gently cupped your jaw. "Open."

You opened your mouth, letting WonWoo roughly spit into your mouth. "That should be enough lubrication for me to fuck your pretty throat, right baby?" WonWoo chuckled deeply at your frantic nod, pushing his cock slowly back into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He waited until you were ready before he began to move his hips, allowing his cock to slowly go down your throat before moving back out. "That's it, baby. You're so good for me, aren't you? Getting on your knees for me in a bathroom at a fancy party that is being thrown for you. You must've been thinking about this alot, haven't you? Ever since last Friday in the fucking closet when I got a sweet taste of that beautiful pussy, you're all I can think about. Had to fucking jerk off into those beautiful panties of yours until they were ruined by my cum. Gonna ruin your throat next."

You moaned at his words, digging your nails into his thighs as he stilled, cumming down your throat. WonWoo bit his bottom lip as he did, groaning softly as he pulled back from your mouth, helping you up. "Did you swallow it all, baby?" You nodded, smiling as he kissed your forehead before going to clean up your appearance, WonWoo doing the same.

"You did pretty well, Y/N. Thats the first time someone has fully been able to take me down their throat," WonWoo spoke in such a nonchalant tone- as if it was something to be said over teatime. You met his eyes in the mirror, watching as he winked before he finished up fixing his suit. You couldn't help but watch the way his fingers moved, the way he carefully pushed each button in before sliding it over his clothes to make sure there were no imperfections. It was one of the things you loved about him; he always presented himself well. He helped you fix your hair and dress before walking with you back into the hallway, his hand resting on your waist as he turned you around to face him. "I think everyone is already making their ways home since we disappeared for a while," WonWoo quickly checked his watch before ushering you towards the steps he had come down from earlier, leading you to the top parking lot.

"You came on your motorcycle?" You knew that WonWoo one and would occasionally ride it when he had time, but you had never seen it. The night sky and neighboring buildings lights lit complimented the sleek black motorcycle that stood proudly in the middle of the lot, showing that he haphazardly parked it before rushing inside.

"I knew I was already running late and had to pass through lots of traffic, so I decided to." He led you closer to it, admiring the way your manicured finger ran along the seat. You hadn't seen a motorcycle up close in a while, admiring the beauty of it. It was obvious that WonWoo had taken care of the motorcycle; it was shiny, and the seat looked perfect. "Would you like to get on?" You paused at his question, asking if he was sure. "I'm sure. Have you ever gotten on one, before?" You shook your head as you carefully mounted the bike, shivering lightly as your legs made contact with the cold bike.

"So, when you're riding, you have to lean like this," WonWoo carefully moved you so your hands were on the handlebars, letting you arch your back a bit. His hand move carefully from your hands to your shoulders, then carefully down your back, resting on your lower back. He let his eyes gaze your body, admiring the fact that he had you in such a position; back arched, chest poked out, ass arched and all on his bike. He wasn't one to deny that he had some dirty fantasizes, as anyone could. One of them, however, was to have you just like this, on his motorcycle while he fucked you; call him specific but it's what sometimes got him off at night.

"WonWoo am I-" you cut yourself of with a small "oh" as you felt WonWoo's hand move to flip up the skirt of the dress, exposing your ass to him and the cold night air. He kissed his teeth as he straddled the back of the bike, pressing his hard on against your ass as he gripped your hips. You let your head fall forward slightly at the feeling of him, moaning softly as he continued to roll his hips to meet yours. "I've always wanted you like this, baby," he confessed through his gritted teeth, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

"Woo, fuck" he moaned at your nickname for him, kissing the side of your face as he cooed, rolling his hips rougher to meet your ass. He wanted you so bad, but he needed to hear you say it. He needed to hear the way you broke down at the idea of having his thick cock in you. It had to come from your lips.

"What do you want, baby? I'm right here, all you gotta do is tell me. Ask me nicely and I'll give it to you just right."

"I want you to fuck me, WonWoo, please."

Bingo.

WonWoo carefully sat back up, unzipping his pants as his other hand make quick work of your underwear, pulling it to the side. He leaned down to spit roughly onto your pussy before he grabbed his cock, mixing it in with your wetness before he pushed the head of his cock in. "WonWoo, fuck yes," you moaned out into the night air as he slowly pushed into you, slowly stretching you out as he did. He tilted his head as his hips met your ass, chuckling at the way you tried to move your hips to create some more friction. WonWoo gripped your ass as he began to move, slowly moving in and out of you as he held you still, making you mewl. "Let me make sure I stretch you out properly first, baby. Let me make this perfect pussy remember every inch of my cock."

You gripped the handle as tight as you could, moaning softly when he picked up the pace. He leaned down to kiss your shoulder, pushing up your dress more so he could hold onto you tighter. "That's good, Y/N. You feel so perfect around my cock. Am I fucking you good? Out here moaning in public like people in the neighboring buildings can't look out and see you begging for my cock while on my motorcycle."

WonWoo leaned down to press his chest to your back as he sped up, cursing as he listened to the kickstand scratch against the parking garage floor, then tossed his head back when you began to fuck yourself back onto him. Despite the small amount of room he had, WonWoo made sure to go as deep as he could and as fast as he could, easing you to your orgasm. He leaned down to play with your clit, kissing your neck softly as he moaned as you tighter around him, making him dizzy. "Cum with me, Y/N. Cum on my cock while I fill you up, fill up this pretty pussy with my cum, my pussy now, oh fuck-" His voice got deeper as he spoke, tilting your head to meet his in a messy kiss as his hips moved faster, slamming his hips against yours as he came. You moaned at the warm feeling, pecking his lips before pulling back to catch your breath, resting your head against the front of the bike.

"Come home with me, Y/N," You opened your eyes to see WonWoo leaning back, his head tossed back as he enjoyed the cold night air that calmed his senses. "I don't want to let you go yet and I'm personally big on aftercare, so..." he chuckled before meeting you in a sweet kiss. You smiled against his lips, sitting up carefully as you nodded. You weren't opposed to waking up in his arms, feeding into your relationship fantasy with him.

When you tried to get off the bike so he could get in front, he stopped you, gripping your hips as he fixed your dress. "I'm taking you home on this. But, you're going to be the one in front." You tried to object as he pressed his chest to your back, having you sit up correctly before kicking the motorcycle to life. "Don't be nervous, I'll do most of the maneuvers, just hold on tight." He placed a sweet kiss to your forehead before he kicked away that stand, beginning to drive home.

Thursday 3am

All you knew was that your mouth was dry, and you needed water.

You sat up from the bed, rubbing your eyes as you tried to adjust to the dimly lit room. You barely remembered what happened when you entered WonWoo's apartment; just his glasses being removed from his face and multiple rounds in the kitchen before moving to the bedroom, then taking a sweet shower and falling asleep in each other's arms.

You carefully removed yourself from WonWoo's grasp, slipping down his black silk sheets to the edge of the bed before carefully standing up, making your way to the kitchen. You carefully opened the matte black fridge, grabbing one of his water bottles before taking a sip as you admired the scenery. His apartment had a gorgeous view of the sky, letting you admire all the stars along with the moon. It was a view you could get used to, if he would allow it.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You turned to see a bare torso WonWoo enter the kitchen, his hair a mess from your hands pulling at it. He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he reached into the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle as well before leaning against the counter, the open fridge illuminating his body; his chest that had scratch marks on it (with matching ones on his back), his sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his neck with faint hickies and lipstick marks on it. He looked beautiful.

He gently wrapped his arms around after he finished his water bottle, pulling you against his chest as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, swaying side to side with you. The only sound that filled the moment was the sound of the AC and his heartbeat, calming your thoughts as he rubbed your back. You noticed that ever since he got you back into his home, he had been catering to you; mentioning how you were now his, how he would never let you go. Even though he hadn't said it, you knew he wanted to ask you out but was still holding back. You nuzzled your head into his chest, closing your eyes as he let out a soft sigh, obviously enjoying having you close. You wanted more, though; you wanted it every night after a long day of work, after you come home from a business trip.

You wanted it just as badly as he did.

"Are you free after work, WonWoo?" You glanced up at him as he hummed in response, asking why you wanted to know. You took a deep breath before murmuring out "Do you want to go out for dinner?"

"I was supposed to ask you that first, but I was going to wait until morning to do so. Looks like you keep beating me to it," he chuckled before nodding. "But yes, I would love to."

You smiled at his words, letting him lead you back to bed before laying against his chest once more. "Sleep well, baby. I'll make sure to make breakfast before we have to head into the office as a way of saying thank you."

"For what, WonWoo?" You asked, already slipping into sleep at the sound of his heartbeat and comforting sheets. He placed a kiss onto your forehead before sighing happily, tossing his head back to rest against the pillow as he also fell asleep. "For letting me show you how much of a man I can be... for letting me show you how much I love you."

Thursday 6pm

"Alright, Mingyu, we'll go over the trade deal when you get back, ok?"

You smiled as you hung up the phone, relaxing against the chair as you stretched. You had been busy all day since you got in and hadn't had a moment to yourself. While you loved being at the top, you hated how busy it made things.

When a knock came to your door, you peered open one of your eyes to see WonWoo peaking his head in, smiling softly before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him. "I can finally see you, baby. Are you excited for dinner?" He moved to stand in front of you, gently massaging your shoulders. You nodded, gently shutting your eyes once more at his touch. He leaned down to kiss you softly, picking you up to place you onto the desk as his lips moved down to your neck, making you grip his shoulders. "What about dinner, WonWoo?" you asked as he sunk to his knees in front of you, placing kisses onto your ankles before placing it onto his shoulders with a grin on his face.

"The reservation is at 8. We have time for appetizer." He chuckled, placing a kiss onto your thigh before he dove right in, moaning softly as you placed your hands into his hair. "Well then, eat up."

#~bambi #seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen the8 #seventeen vernon #seventeen imagines #seventeen minghao #seventeen woozi #wonwoo smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfic #scoups #seungkwan #mingyu #svt

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hades-in-bloom · 1 year ago

Text

But First, Coffee

Post-DI!Leon S. Kennedy x Corp Exec!Reader

summary: Leon is after his next target when he encounters a not-so-cooperative informant.

warnings & contents: older Leon (as per usual); could be age gap, could be none; accidentally plot-heavy and a dialogue heaven; mentions of smoking; Leon doesn’t do one-night stands; hints of power play; the reader could be any gender; might be turned into series (? big question mark).

a/n: this one just wrote itself as the pairing dynamic bugged me for a while—I haven’t seen it anywhere yet, but nudge me if I’ve missed anything; I think Leon might enjoy being bossed around a bit (for his own good, also by someone who isn’t Ada)—and as he can easily boss back, too. Overall, desperately clinging to my last brain cells. As always, proceed at your own risk—and let me know if this smaller font is unreadable. Minors DNI! Masterlist

Also—holy smokes, folks—this blog hit 100+ follows! Might sound insignificant to some, but it just blows my mind. Thank you so much for reading! xoxo

***

‘I haven't seen him. I wasn't paying attention. Please, I have more important things to attend to,’ you begged repeatedly—until a cop who was torturing you gave up. She knew she couldn’t keep you in the interrogation room for longer, so she had to let you out—eventually. You never thought that your morning run would end up with you in a police department.

‘We’ll have a short break,’ she sighed, giving you a stern look. ‘You may grab coffee next door; I'll call you back.’

You breathed out an irritated ‘Great,’ and took your chances, making your way to the only coffee machine in your vicinity. That one looked abused by thousands of hands eager to get a dose of instant caffeine.

‘You’d be better off drinking plain water than this,’ you heard a chuckle from your right before you noticed a tall man leaning on the nearby wall, watching you. He was dressed casually–heavy boots, dark jeans with a straight fit, and a probably expensive leather jacket; his sharp gaze trained on you, attempting to look into your soul—luckily for you, some of your employees were convinced you had no soul, so you left unfazed by the efforts.

You chuckled back at him. ‘Fair, but I don’t think that even this swill of a drink could worsen my situation.’

‘You don’t look like a local,’ you mentioned aloud, and he smirked in reply.

‘Good eye—I’m not. Well, not anymore,’ he confessed, stepping towards you. He didn’t seem to be planning to give you more details about himself, and you weren’t in a hurry to ask—or, instead, you didn’t care—yet.

‘Well,’ you gave him a look full of friendly irony, ‘if you’re not my knight in shining armour who can get me the hell out of this interrogation immediately, so I won't lose my job, I’d rather get on with my coffee.’

You turned your attention to the visibly overused coffee machine so you didn’t see how his eyebrows rose up a little, and a slight smirk touched his lips.

You grabbed a half-full coffee cup from under the machine and then turned as you heard your name down the corridor. ‘And that’s me.’ You emphasized before walking away. He watched you calmly, his eyes expression unreadable. ‘So long, local boy.’

You couldn’t hear him when he quietly chuckled in amusement as you returned to the officer’s lair.

It took twenty more minutes of unnecessary suffering before the door to the interrogation room swung open.

‘Leon?’ The cop looked surprised as you glanced at the intruder quickly—the local boy. Now, you were intrigued.

‘Jess, sorry for interrupting,’ Leon smiled at the old friend, ‘but I have Chief’s clearance to get this one,’ the man nodded at you briefly, ‘out of this questioning.’ He gave Jess—or, as known by you, Detective Jessica Harlow—an apologetic look. ‘D.S.O. orders.’

The detective sighed and returned him an irritated but tamed look. ‘Fine,’ Jessica glanced back at you. ‘It was a waste of time anyway.’

You couldn't hold back a scoff. ‘Tell me about that.’ Leon gave you a dirty look, although you could see his mouth twitch in a suppressed giggle.

‘Alright, get out.’ He said with a sigh, waving you towards the corridor. ‘I'll explain everything on the way.’

As you stepped outside the NYPD building, you took a moment to examine him. ‘So you are the knight in shining armour.’

Leon chuckled lightheartedly. ‘Oh, I'm definitely not that.’ The man neither considered himself noble nor his usual tactical vest was shiny. From his point of view, he wasn’t a hero type either.

‘Leon Kennedy, Division of Security Operations under the U.S. government,’ he introduced himself, done with the jokes. You held back a moan—so the local boy was a trap—a quite high-flying bird, though. He read you and showed a soft smile. ‘I know you have spent a lot of time with Jess, but I might have a couple of questions more.’ Leon thought he was worthy of the favor after he pulled you out of the interrogation with NYPD hours before Harlow would get satisfied—Jessica has always been thorough. ‘And for a change, they won't be about that theft you witnessed this morning.’

You weren’t excited; he could see that much. ‘Do I have a choice?’ You sighed.

‘Not really,’ Leon admitted honestly. You found him amusing—although the man knew he was in control of the situation, his look was soft, allowing, lacking arrogance you get used to seeing in your line of work, and he was too relaxed to your liking.

‘Can it wait at least?’ You pressed with desperate notes in your tone. ‘I am late to a critical meeting.’

He nodded reassuringly after a short pause.

Although still impatient, you sighed in relief and took a business card out, handing it over to the federal agent. ‘I guess I can skip my introduction.’ You stepped to the side, hailing a taxi. ‘Call my assistant. He’ll match our schedules.’

‘I can wait, but I can’t wait for long,’ Leon retorted as your leg stepped inside the yellow car.

You gave Kennedy a sweet smile before you shut the door. ‘Great. You tell him that.’

Leon was left stunned for a moment as he watched the car riding off deeper into downtown New York.

‘Shit,’ he mumbled with annoyance in his voice—and with a sudden hint of admiration, too.

***

‘I told you—I can’t wait that long.’

You jolted in surprise as you heard a familiar voice and your car door swung open. It was a couple of days since you met him for the first time.

‘I told you to call my assistant,’ you smiled politely as Leon made himself comfortable in the backseat next to you. You gave the nod to a company driver that he could drive on despite the unexpected guest present.

‘Oh, I have called—but the only available slot is three weeks from now. I guess you forgot to brief him on the urgency of our meeting.’

‘My bad then.’ You sighed, showing no remorse. ‘Close the door if you want this conversation to happen. I was just about to drive back home.’

Kennedy followed your advice and shut the door before the car took off.

‘So, what do you want to know?’

You were direct—Kennedy preferred that style of communication. Leon pulled up a picture on his phone. ‘There’s an assumption to believe you should know that guy.’ You tensed a bit as you took a look at the image.

‘I would prefer to have my lawyer present,’ you replied casually, making Leon chuckle.

‘Come on, it’s a friendly conversation. I’m not here to accuse you of anything—I have more important things on my plate.’

You scoffed. While thinking, you pulled up a cigarette case out of your purse and were about to light up one of those when you noticed the man making a slight grimace—it wasn’t his goal to tell you what to do, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you didn’t glance at him at the right time. You shot him a look. ‘What’s that? I saw it.’

‘I just… prefer my clothes not to smell of cigarette smoke,’ Leon replied, his voice gentle but confident. Despite the diversion, he stayed close to the topic. ‘But I'd rather you answer my question than we talk about the dangers of smoking.’

You had to admit that this annoying motherfucker had a style. ‘Great. Otherwise, I was looking forward to being scolded by a stranger.’ Your tone of voice was surprisingly friendly. Leon seemed not to hold a grudge.

You didn't care much about the opinions of others generally—but this time, the unknown force made you slow down and put away your lighter before you got a light out of it.

At last, you entertained his question. ‘The man is Art Rankine.’ You glanced back at Kennedy’s phone, still showing the photo. ‘I had a pleasure to work with him on one of the mergers.’

‘Legion Corp.,’ Leon assumed, and you raised an eyebrow.

‘Good to hear you did your homework. Then I don’t have to break my NDA—and thanks to that one, I’m not sure I can help you much.’

‘I would question that all of your encounters with Mr. Rankine were covered by the NDA.’ The man smiled, giving you a look. You felt your cheeks getting warm. ‘Am I right?’ Leon tilted his head while keeping eye contact. After a moment, you returned a dirty look at him.

‘We dated. Fleetingly, if I may add,’ you admitted reluctantly.

‘Good. As the merger was closed recently, I'd assume you still have his private contact?’ Kennedy asked.

You felt like you were falling into the James Bond-esque rabbit hole, and you didn't enjoy it.

‘So the all-knowing Leon Kennedy knows I slept with the man but couldn’t get his number?’ You didn't hold back on sarcasm, but it left the federal agent unfazed.

‘Something like that,’ he retorted. ‘I need your help to set up a meeting. That’s all I ask for.’

You scoffed. ‘You request me to contact my ex, and then you call it a small favor?’

‘That’s the best offer I’ve got.’ Leon admitted. ‘I’d rather we establish this partnership quickly.’ Oh, you knew well what that meant—a very gentle threat of making you spend a lot of money on your lawyer. It annoyed you as much as, to your amusement, you found it hot.

You sighed.

‘How do you want the meeting?’

You could see his watercolor eyes light up in satisfaction.

‘We can talk about it tomorrow. Care to give me your personal number?’

You took his mobile phone out of his hands before quickly typing in your number and calling your cell.

‘I am saving you under a horrible name,’ you warned the federal agent, and Leon let out a chortle.

‘Flattered. Now, I can get off right there,’ he nodded at the closest street corner. Soon, the driver stopped there for a moment.

‘So long, local boy.’

You watched him get out of the car, observing his features unintently—and then, by accident, you caught himself staring at his lips for a quarter of a second.

He noticed it.

‘Buy me a coffee first, sweetheart,’ he smirked before closing the car door as he exited the vehicle.

You realized you were holding back your breath after a while—you shook it off right after, finally putting a cigarette into your mouth and briefly cursing under your breath while you lit it up.

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genshinluvr · 2 years ago

Text

How to (Not) Play Windtrace 3

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You and the men are officially playing Windtrace again after a while! This time, new people are added to the game, and it makes the game more challenging! Or, at least, that's what you thought until someone found you a minute or two into the game. You all end up changing the venue of the game, and you end up meeting a "new face."

Note: It's been a few months since the last part of How to (Not) Play Windtrace! Here's an update on it, finally! This part is probably not as chaotic as the first two parts, but it's somewhat chaotic 🤔 Since I'm not entirely sure about the possible new map of Windtrace, I made one up for the plot. I was able to type most of this story before a random power outage happened. I have no idea why I always get power outages at the worst times when I have deadlines to meet ._. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: A bucket is thrown at you and Scaramouche (mainly aimed at Scaramouche, but hit both of you), and you fall on your face, slight innuendos?

Word Count: 9.8k

How to (Not) Play Windtrace parts: [1], [2], [3]

Everyone is gathering in front of Dawn Winery. Today is a beautiful day, too beautiful not to go outside and hang out with each other, bask in each other’s presence, and spend some time with one another as a way to bond! That’s what you assumed was going to happen. Until Itto and Childe walk to the front with fowls in their hands, holding the fowls up to their faces before clearing their throats to get everyone’s attention.

“Annnnnd welcome back to round three of Windtrace! I’m your host, Arataki Itto, with my co-host, Chiiiiilde!” Itto announces dramatically into his makeshift microphone; he’s using a fowl as a microphone.

“Last time we played Windtrace, we only had about fifteen people playing. But now, we have ten more people added to the game! Shall I go over some rules for our newcomers?” Childe asks, looking right at you, who also has his own makeshift microphone.

Your eyes widen, and you point at yourself. “Are you wanting me to answer whether we should go over the rules again, or are you implying that I’m a newcomer and need the rules to be explained to me?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at Childe.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes at Childe. “We already know the rules of the game. Even though we weren’t there to play the game while the fifteen of you were, we know the rules,” Al Haitham states, crossing his arms over his chest and exhaling through his nose.

It has been a while since you and the men played Windtrace. You couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of having to find more people in the game. Last time it was Childe that was the hunter, and you’re hoping that you won’t have to be the one to find the other men in the game. Imagine having to find twenty-five people in Windtrace! A nightmare.

While you’re excited to play Windtrace again, since the four Harbingers are now joining in on the game, you’re a little bit nervous. Just the thought of a Harbinger searching for you is a nightmare fuel, and you’re not mentally or emotionally prepared to be chased by any of the Harbingers.

“This feels like a detective game and hide-and-go-seek rolled up into one game. I’m excited to play this game and put my detective skills to the test!” Heizou says, clasping his hands together with a big smile on his face.

Aether crosses his arms over his chest and looks at each man skeptically. “How did you all play Windtrace last time we weren’t here?” Aether asks.

“We played like how Wintrace is supposed to be played! It was quite eventful, and it’s cute to see this cutie over here get flustered,” Childe says, reaching over to you and pinching your cheeks lightly.

You scoff and swat Childe’s hands away from your face, feeling your face become hot under each man’s gaze. You cross your arms over your chest and look away from them, your nose sticking up in the air as you let out a “hmph!” while Childe and Itto look over at each other with a nervous laugh, hoping that you wouldn’t expose them of their lies.

Pierro looks at you with interest. “Oh? What’s with the reaction, little one?” Pierro asks, raising an eyebrow at you for your peculiar reaction to Childe’s comment.

Dottore leans over to Pierro and whispers loudly to the older man behind his hand. “Judging by [Y/N]’s reaction, it seems like Childe may be lying.”

“Care to tell us why you reacted that way after hearing Childe’s response?” Capitano asks, turning to look over at you.

“Gladly!” You reply sassily, turning to face the men while ignoring Childe’s silent pleas. “In the game of Windtrace, there are four players. One person is the hunter, and three other people are the rebels, correct?” You raise your eyebrows.

Pantalone tilts his head to the side and nods his head slowly. “That is correct.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Well!” You clap your hands and look at every man that played Windtrace with you last time. “I was the hunter, and all of them were the rebels. Yes, that is correct! One hunter and fifteen rebels! In round two, I was the rebel, and there were fifteen hunters that I had to search for,” you explain, narrowing your eyes at each man.

“Well, that sounds unfair,” Tighnari says, puckering his lips while brushing the back of his ears.

You nod your head with a small glare on your face. “It was! But it was actually fun playing Windtrace that way because imagine being chased by fifteen attractive men,” you said, covering your hot cheeks with both of your hands.

“I think you and I have a different definition of attractive because….” Kaveh looks around at each man and makes a face. “I think you can do better, but I’m the exception, of course,” Kaveh says, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk on his face.

“I am now starting to see why [Y/N] wants to fight you all the time,” Venti says, giving Kaveh a fake smile and letting his lyre disappear in thin air.

“So, this game…. Are we going to play it as it is, or are we going to play it like how you all played it last time?” Cyno asks, raising his eyebrows at you, Childe, and Itto.

You sigh and run your hands through your hair. “We should just play it like how we played Windtrace last time. If we were to play the game how it originally is, it would take a while for us to get through a few rounds because I know how competitive some of you are,” you said, looking over at Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Al Haitham, Kaveh, Xiao, and Scaramouche.

You blink when there’s a space where you thought Scaramouche would be standing. You look around the crowd of men, searching for the indigo-haired man. You hum to yourself, prop your hands on your hips and look at every man over and over again, making sure to make eye contact with each of them. After scanning your eyes through the crowd, you have concluded that Scaramouche is missing from the group, and you have no idea where he is.

“What are you looking for?” Thoma asks, looking at you curiously.

You rub your temples and sigh. “Scaramouche is missing, and I have no idea if I have seen him today or not,” you said.

“I saw him today before we left the abode, but I did not know that he wasn’t at Dawn Winery with us the entire time,” Ayato says.

You hear an overconfident laugh coming from behind you, startling you. You turn around to scold Scaramouche for scaring you, only to feel your breath get caught in your throat when you see how close he’s standing to you. You take a step back and look at him from head to toe, completely flabbergasted at his new makeover.

“Your clothes! They’re new,” you said, looking at the Indigo-haired man with wide eyes. “And not purple at all,” you add.

“I needed a new change of clothes. Something that doesn’t tie me down to Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun herself,” Scaramouche says, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

Your eyes fall on the glowing anemo vision. “You have an anemo vision. Since when?” You ask, looking back up at Scaramouche’s face.

“The vision looks recent,” Albedo mutters, his gaze training on the anemo vision hanging beside Scaramouche’s chest.

You continue to stare at the anemo vision, questioning if Scaramouche even had an electro vision in the first place or if he only has the power of electro because he was created to be the Raiden Shogun’s puppet. You snap out of your thoughts and slap yourself across the face.

“Why did you slap yourself?!” Xiao exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes.

You laugh and scratch the back of your head. “Sorry, I was thinking way too hard and questioning too many things that I had to find a way to stop myself from overthinking the smallest things,” you said, rubbing your sore cheek.

Diluc approaches you and cups your face, tilts your head up and to the side to inspect the cheek you slapped. Diluc sighs and releases your face. “Your cheek is beginning to swell up. We should put some ice on it for the swelling to go down,” Diluc says, rubbing the painful area with his gloved thumb.

Kaeya takes a step forwards and pulls Diluc back with a sly smile on his face. “Looks like this is the job for me, a cryo vision holder,” Kaeya says.

Kaeya stands in front of you and cups both of your cheeks in his hands; you feel his hands grow cold, making you sigh in contentment and lean further into his touch. You peek from Kaeya’s arm and continue what you were doing previously: stare at Scaramouche and look at the little details of his newest clothes and vision.

“While Kaeya is compressing [Y/N]’s swollen cheek, shall we talk about who’s going to be the hunter and who’s going to be the rebel?” Dainsleif asks.

“Who was the hunter last time? We can start this round with the people who played as the rebels last time,” Kazuha suggests, releasing the leaf into the air and letting it get blown away by the wind.

Zhongli furrows his eyebrows. “That’s a good question. Who was the hunter last time we played Windtrace?” Zhongli asks, stroking his chin with his thumb and index finger.

“It’s been a while since we’ve played the game. Almost a year ago, I believe,” Baizhu mutters, propping one hand on his hip while stroking his chin with the other hand. Your eyes widen, and you look at the men around you in disbelief. Has it really been almost a year since the last game of Windtrace?

“How are we going to remember who was the hunter in the previous round of Windtrace?” Gorou asks, furrowing his eyebrows while scratching the back of his ears with a confused look on his face.

A moment of realization hits you; you clap your hands and raise your hand up in the air. “I was the hunter in the last round!” You said, nodding your head. “Took a moment for me to remember, but I was the hunter in the previous round, and every single one of you,” you trail off, pointing at the men that were previously present in the last game of Windtrace, “Were hiding on top of Dawn Winery while Itto and Ayato were having a beetle fight,” you said.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now!” Itto laughs, nodding his head before his smile slips off. “I can’t believe that I lost that round of beetle battle,” he mutters to himself, furrowing his eyebrows.

Heizou raises his hands to grab everyone’s attention. “Okay, so now that we know who was the hunter in the previous round of Windtrace, does that mean all of us,” he gestures to all of the men around him, “are hunters now, and [Y/N] is the rebel?”

Gorou nods his head. “Yes, that is correct, Heizou! Although, last time I remember, Dainsleif didn’t play the second round of Windtrace with us,” Gorou says, tapping on his chin.

Everyone looks over at the blond man, who blinks back at them in response. Right, you almost forgot about how Dainsleif didn’t join in on Windtrace and tagged along with you while you searched high and low for the other men that participated in Windtrace. Not to mention, you also remembered how Dainsleif and Childe would bicker with each other while you tried to search for the others.

Thinking back on it now, you couldn’t help but visibly cringe at how you acted when you played Windtrace with the men for the first and second times. You clear your throat and try to distract yourself from the cringey memories of the first and second rounds of Windtrace.

“Will you be joining us this time, Dainsleif?” You ask, giving the blond man a polite yet awkward smile.

Dainsleif sighs and closes his eyes for a brief moment before opening his eyes again. “It seems like I will be joining this round of Windtrace,” Dainsleif says, nodding his head reluctantly.

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to! I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do,” you said.

“Yeah! You hear the bunny. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to,” Dottore says, approaching you from behind and propping his right arm on your left shoulder, giving Dainsleif a smirk.

Pantalone sighs dramatically and props his left arm on your right shoulder, and rests his cheek on top of your head. “It would be a shame if you didn’t join, but it’s okay; the others and I make up for your missing presence,” Pantalone says, reaching over to your cheek and squeezing them lightly.

“I’ll join,” Dainsleif says, shooting a glare at Pantalone and Dottore.

He approaches you three and smacks Dottore and Pantalone’s arms off your shoulders before pulling you away from the two of them. Dottore and Pantalone smirk and look over at each other with amused looks on their faces, knowing they successfully got under Dainsleif’s skin.

“Now that’s settled,” Kaeya glances at you with a closed eye smile. “You should start finding a hiding place, bunny. We’ll give you a fifteen-second head start,” Kaeya pats the top of your head.

You nod your head nervously. You’re not looking forward to having twenty-five people search for you; the thought of that many people searching for you makes you nervous, but you’re also excited to see who will be the first person to find you! As long as it’s not one of the Harbingers because they are terrifying. Kazuha gives you a signal to start searching for a good hiding spot, and you begin to run as if your life depends on it (it kind of does).

To be completely honest, you have no idea where you’re going to hide, and you’re praying to whatever archon is listening for you not to be found so easily. You’re not entirely sure if you can hide inside of Dawn Winery, and even if you can, you don’t want to distract the maids from their jobs because you’re playing hide-and-go-seek with almost thirty attractive men searching for you.

So, you end up choosing to hide in a wine keg behind Dawn Winery. Before you jump into the empty wine keg, you push the wine keg close to the stack of barrels in the building. You hop into the wine keg and hug your legs close to your chest, praying that you won’t be found so easily. But with your hiding spot and where you choose to hide in, you have an inkling feeling that someone is going to find you quickly all because of your hiding spot. And by someone, you mean Diluc himself since the man knows the winery really well, and perhaps maybe even Kaeya is going to be the first one to find you in this round of Windtrace. Who knows!

“Please let me last for this round,” you whisper to yourself, burying your face into your knees.

You’re worried that if you look up from the wine keg, someone is going to be staring down at you. You’re not prepared to see who’s ever face is going to pop up. You hear a faint whirring getting closer to where you’re hiding. Since you’re not familiar with the noise, you continue to keep your head down, hoping that it’ll pass by and not give you a mini heart attack.

Something drops down beside the wooden wine keg you’re hiding in, and footsteps approach your hiding spot. You shut your eyes and cover your face with your hands as if it would provide you some invisibility.

“Really? This is the best you could do?” A voice scoffs.

You lower your hands from your face and slowly look up to where the voice came from. Scaramouche stares down at you with his eyebrows raised, and the corners of his lips lift into a faint smirk. Scaramouche leans on the wine keg, propping his head up with his right hand as he continues to gaze down at you.

“How did you find me?” You squeak, swallowing the lump in your throat.

At least it wasn’t one of the four Harbingers that had found you in your hiding spot. While Scaramouche is just as intimidating as the other four Harbingers, you would much rather have him find you instead of the others.

Scaramouche reaches down and starts to pet your hair with his left hand. “I was floating around, and I saw your cute little head peeking from the wine keg,” Scaramouche answers, smiling down at you.

You deflate, let out a sigh of defeat, and slowly get out of your hiding spot. “So that whirring sound was you this entire time,” you said.

Scaramouche nods his head and holds his hand out for you to take. You grab his hand and step out of the wine keg, dusting the spiderwebs and dusting off your behind and clothes. Just when you’re about to say something, you and Scaramouche hear someone approaching the area where the both of you are standing.

Scaramouche’s face pinches up with annoyance, and he picks you up bridal style without hesitation, levitates in the air, and begins to float away with you in his arms. You wrap your arms around Scaramouche’s shoulders and look down to see Itto and Xiao glaring up at you and Scaramouche—mainly at Scaramouche.

“This isn’t part of Windtrace, puppet!” Xiao hollers, his hands clenching at his sides as he glares up at Scaramouche, who lets out a victorious laugh.

Itto scoffs loudly and props his hands on his hips. “Hey, “Wanderer,” get your ass down here and play the game fair and square!” Itto announces, running after you and Scaramouche.

“I already won this round as the hunter! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my prize elsewhere where we can be alone,” Scaramouche announces before letting out a burst of boisterous laughter. Scaramouche slowly floats away from Dawn Winery as if he is doing it to show off that he won by catching you before anyone else can.

Aether groans and smacks his head. “I knew this was going to happen the minute he gets that damn anemo vision,” Aether grumbles.

“Are we just going to let Scaramouche go with [Y/N] in his arms? It doesn’t seem fair that he won this round so fast and decided to float away with [Y/N] in his arms,” Heizou says, staring up at Scaramouche.

You look up at Scaramouche and poke him. “We’re not actually going to stray away from Dawn Winery, are we?” You ask, continuing to cling to him, fearing that he might drop you to the ground.

Scaramouche sighs and slowly flies to where everyone has gathered in front of Dawn Winery, smirking at the men below you two. The men did not look happy that Scaramouche was the first one to find you and that he almost decided to leave all of them at Dawn Winery with you in his arms. Perhaps everyone should find another location to play Windtrace instead of playing it at Dawn Winery.

Al Haitham leans toward Zhongli, muttering into Zhongli’s ears. “I’m not sure if this is the main location where you all played Windtrace previously, but I believe that we should choose another location to play the game,” said Al Haitham.

Zhongli nods and lets out a quiet sigh, staring up at where Scaramouche is floating with you in his arms, holding you hostage. “I agree. We played Windtrace at Dawn Winery a few times already. Most people must know the layout of the winery by now,” Zhongli murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, you won this round, Scaramouche. Now, release [Y/N] so we can continue the next round of Windtrace,” Ayato says, shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazes up at you and Scaramouche.

Scaramouche lets out a loud hum as he tilts his head to the side, contemplating whether he should let you go or not. You feel Scaramouche tighten his grip around you before looking back at the rest of the men with a smirk, shaking his head.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll do that,” Scaramouche says, pouting at the men mockingly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be elsewhere,” Scaramouche announces, turning around and levitating away from the group with a triumphant smile on his face.

Without thinking, Itto reaches for the nearest thing he can get and grabs it. Itto looks up at where you and Scaramouche are, quickly calculating the distance and height, and throws the wooden bucket at Scaramouche as hard as he can. The bucket flies and ends up hitting you and Scaramouche in the head hard, causing Scaramouche to lose his balance and fall.

Scaramouche ends up taking the fall the heaviest as the both of you crash into the lush grapevines of Dawn Winery and onto the ground. Scaramouche groans and glares over at Itto, who laughs nervously while rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile on his face. You rub the area where the bucket had hit you and wince when your fingers make contact with that area.

“How many times have I gotten injured while playing this damn game?” You ask yourself, still sprawled on top of Scaramouche.

Just when you’re about to get off of Scaramouche, the men rush over to you and Scaramouche. Thoma and Kaveh grab both of your arms and pull you off of Scaramouche, checking you to make sure whether you have sustained an injury or not from the fall.

“Itto, you should’ve been more careful when you threw that bucket!” Thoma exclaims after his eyes land on the faint bruising near your hairline.

Kaveh rolls his eyes. “I think you meant that Itto shouldn’t be throwing buckets in general, Thoma. After all, it injured both Scaramouche and [Y/N],” Kaveh says.

Kaveh turns to face Scaramouche to help him off the ground. Scaramouche scoffs and smacks Kaveh’s hand away from his face before getting up and dusting his clothes with a scowl on his face. Kaveh scrunches his face up and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest with a soft huff of breath.

The four Harbingers step in front of Scaramouche and looks down at Scaramouche; they don’t look too pleased with Scaramouche attempting to scurry away with you in his arms, leaving them “stranded” at Dawn Winery. Baizhu pushes through the four Harbingers to check up on both you and Scaramouche.

“You took the fall the hardest, Scaramouche. The least you can do is let me check on you,” Baizhu says.

Scaramouche sighs in defeat and proceeds to let Baizhu assess his condition while you sit to the side with the others. While you’re waiting for Baizhu to be finished with Scaramouche’s checkup, you begin fixing your clothes and dusting the dirt and grass off your clothes.

“Itto, I understand that you don’t want Scaramouche to float away from Dawn Winery with [Y/N] in his arms, but please do not throw things at people,” Tighnari says.

Itto pouts and plops on the ground beside you, latching himself to you while resting his head on your shoulder, almost poking you in the face with his horns. You move your head out of the way and pat Itto’s head lightly, letting the man continue to cling to you with a pout remaining on his face.

Cyno sighs and shakes his head. “You would think that an adult like Itto would know that,” Cyno says, looking over at Itto from the corner of his eyes.

“Hehe, maybe Scaramouche getting an anemo vision was a mistake,” Venti says. “Even though archons don’t hand out visions….” He trails off, puckering his lips.

“Did you really think that you could leave the area with [Y/N] in your arms? How pathetic, Balladeer,” Pierro sneers, glaring down at Scaramouche, who scowls at the title that was given to him while he was still part of the Fatui Harbingers.

Kazuha chuckles softly and shakes his head. “Let’s not start trouble right now, you two. I’m sure [Y/N] wouldn’t appreciate it,” Kazuha says, looking over at you.

“See, Kazuha gets it, which I’m not surprised. Why can’t you understand that, Pierro?” You ask, locking gazes with Pierro. “Also, don’t call Scaramouche ‘Balladeer.’ He doesn’t want to be associated with that name anymore. Let’s respect his wishes,” you said, getting up from your spot.

A small smile appears on Scaramouche’s face. He looks over at Pierro and sticks his tongue out at the first Harbinger, and blows a raspberry while pulling the top of his right cheek down. Albedo walks up to you and cups your face in his hands. You stare up at Albedo as he inspects the bruising on your face close to your hairline.

“We’re going to need to put ice on that bruise,” Albedo says, turning to look at the others. “How many times have [Y/N] hurt themself today?” Albedo asks, releasing you from his grasp and letting his hands fall to his side.

Diluc sighs and rubs his temples. “This would be the second time, but I believe that [Y/N] injuring themself once is one too many,” Diluc says.

“You know, I am prone to accidents, and that’s okay! Now, can we please continue the game, or are we ending it here for today?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“We will continue onto the next round, but I heard that the former Geo archon and the Scribe wants to find another location to play Windtrace,” Capitano says, gesturing over to Zhongli and Al Haitham.

The way Zhongli and Al Haitham are whispering to each other reminds you of those gossiping aunties at family gatherings. You’ve been a victim and the subject of your gossiping aunties way too many times. Zhongli and Al Haitham nod their heads at Capitano’s comment. You pucker your lips and tap on your chin.

“I don’t mind if we play Windtrace at another location, but do any of you have a location in mind?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at the men while subconsciously rubbing the area where the bucket hit you. Itto gets up from the ground and latches to you again, resting his chin on your head before placing a light kiss on the forming bruise.

Dottore raises his hand. “I, in fact, do have a place in mind,” Dottore says, smiling widely.

Everyone around you (except for the other three Harbingers) looks at Dottore skeptically. You’re not entirely sure what place Dottore has in mind for the next round of Windtrace, but you have a small feeling that you’re not going to like it one bit.

“Why are we in an abandoned factory, Dottore?” You ask, looking at Dottore bewildered.

Pantalone smiles and pats your head. “You all have played Windtrace at Dawn Winery quite often to the point where all of you remembered the layout of the area. To add a little challenge to the game, Dottore chose the abandoned factory to play Windtrace,” Pantalone explains.

“Great! Let’s choose a complicated area for me to explore while you all hide in plain sight,” you said sarcastically. “Before we start this round, please don’t try to jump out and scare me,” you said, pointing at each person present in the room with you.

Childe lets out a sound of disappointment. “Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Childe whines, his bottom lip jutting out while he bats his eyelashes at you.

“Childe, I swear, if you try to scare me in any way, I will revoke your cuddling privileges,” you threaten, narrowing your eyes at the ginger-haired male. Childe lets out an audible gasp and stares at you in shock, pressing his hand against his chest as if you have wounded him.

Heizou turns to look at Gorou, his eyes wide. “I would hate to have my cuddling privileges taken away,” Heizou whispers to Gorou, who nods his head in agreement.

Aether lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Of course, Childe is going to be the first one to get his cuddling privileges revoked,” Aether smirks and nudges Childe with his elbow. Childe mutters and swats Aether.

Cyno nods his head. “No surprise there,” Cyno says. A smirk appears on Cyno’s face when Childe looks over at him with his mouth agape with shock and hurt.

“Okay!” You clap your hands, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Let’s start the game now! You all go hide,” you said, covering your eyes with both of your hands.

Kaeya trots over to you and leans his face close to yours, his warm breath fanning the side of your face, making you flinch. “Remember, no peeking,” Kaeya whispers, pressing a quick kiss on your cheeks before searching for a place to hide.

“Damn him and his suave moves,” You mumble under your breath, waiting for the men to search for a place to hide.

While you’re waiting for the men to find their hiding spot, you would often hear them bicker with one another over who’s going to be hiding in a specific area. You hear a loud slap and a yelp that accompanies it, making you sigh and shake your head in disapproval.

“You idiot! Did you not learn your lesson from the previous round!?” You hear Xiao yell from a distance, his voice echoing throughout the abandoned factory.

Itto whines and rubs the area where Xiao has smacked him. “Hey! It was the only good hiding spot I found! The others already claimed their spot,” Itto replies, pouting at Xiao.

Kazuha chuckles and peeks from his hiding spot. “If you don’t want to get your head stuck in the bucket again like last time, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Kazuha says.

You sigh and slowly pull your hands down from your eyes, turning to face them. You hear Itto start to panic almost immediately when he sees you pull your hands down from your face, slowly turning to face the direction where the commotion was coming from. Even though your hands aren’t covering your eyes, your eyes are still closed.

“Don’t open look yet! I haven’t found a spot to hide yet!” Itto screams, searching high and low for a new area to hide in.

“Just find a spot to hide already, dammit! We don’t have all day!” Kaveh screams from across the room, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Tighnari and Gorou groan, covering their ears with their hands and peeking from their hiding spots with a glare on their face. All of the shouting and voices bouncing off the factory’s walls are hurting Gorou and Tighnari’s ears. Did the men suddenly forget that there are people in the factory is better hearing than human ears?

“Hey, can we not shout in the factory? Some of us have sensitive hearing,” Tighnari says, rubbing his ears gently.

Gorou nods, even though he knows that Tighnari doesn’t see it from where he’s hiding. “Yeah! Please don’t shout and be mindful of others,” Gorou pleads.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes, pressing his head against the wall where he’s hiding and crosses his arms over his chest. “Just pick a spot and hide. Windtrace is just a game. Nothing is on the line,” Al Haitham says.

After a few minutes of them bickering back and forth, Itto is finally able to find a spot to hide in the factory. Silence falls, and you hear nothing but your own breathing—and maybe your heart beating against your ears from how silent it is in the factory.

“Okay,” you speak up. “I’m going to take that silence as a sign that all of you have found your hiding spots,” you announce.

No one replies to you. You let your hands fall to your side and open your eyes. Now that you’re alone in the factory, you notice that it’s bigger than you thought it was. The ceiling is about fifty feet tall; there are rusted stairs that lead to many dark rooms, and rusting and rotting machinery sits idly by in the room you’re currently in.

“This is creepier than I thought it was going to be,” you think to yourself.

You swallow your fears and begin walking around the vacant factory, searching for the first person that might show up. Because of how big the factory is, you’re not entirely sure if you’ll be able to find someone within a minute or two of Windtrace.

The lights are dim in the central area you’re in, and some parts of the factory are blacked out; you’re a little hesitant to check those rooms to see if one of the men is hiding in there. You’re not fond of the dark; you have read way too many horror stories to know what happens in the dark. Especially at a place like the building you and the others are currently in. You do not like how quiet it is; silence is pleasant sometimes, but when you’re in a vacant factory with almost thirty people, the silence is nearly unsettling.

Even though you want to avoid the second-floor area, you want to get it over with and start looking for people from the top and then to the bottom floor. You hug your trembling hands to your chest, and with each step you take up the stairs, you can hear how loud your heartbeat is getting against your ears.

“This is stupid. If this was a horror movie right now, I’m the dumb character that is walking towards their demise,” you grumble to yourself, reaching for a crowbar that is resting beside a doorway. You might as well keep yourself armed with a weapon rather than having to use your bare hands to defend yourself just in case you run into someone that isn’t a part of your Windtrace group.

You walk into the dark room and begin to swing your crowbar around in front of you, making sure that you’re not bumping into anything or anyone. The door behind you suddenly slams shut, startling you. You freeze in your spot and tense up when you hear footsteps approaching you. You hold the crowbar up in front of you, shutting your eyes tightly and whispering silent prayers to an archon that whoever is in the same room as you is one of the men.

“Aw, there’s nothing to be afraid of, sweet thing,” a voice purrs into your ears. The person’s warm breath fans your neck, making you shrink into yourself like a turtle, letting out a small squeak while tightening your grip around the crowbar.

“Aw, a little weapon? Do you really think that can save you from me?” He chuckles. Your eyes are shut, but you can tell that he is circling you.

You shrug your shoulders meekly. “I don’t know. Do you want me to test it out on you?” You whisper, your eyebrows knitting together while you continue to tighten your grip on the crowbar until you feel your fingernails dig into the palm of your hands.

The man chuckles and pats your head; the sudden contact startles you, causing you to almost violently flinch back from the person’s touch. You hate it when people you’re not familiar with act buddy-buddy with you and place their hands on you, especially if that person is a man.

“How cute. Come on, [Y/N], don’t be scared of me now. You know who I am,” The man says nonchalantly.

You shake your head and continue to keep your eyes shut. You’re not even sure if it’s worth keeping your eyes closed when the room you and this mysterious person are in is pitch black. You suddenly see lights flicker behind your closed eyes. The man stops in front of you and leans in close to your face.

The man whispers, “Open your eyes. Don’t be afraid.”

You gulp and shake your head. “I will not open my eyes,” you said.

The man huffs and stands up tall, propping his hands on his hips. “And why not?” The man demands; you can hear that he’s beginning to grow frustrated and impatient with you.

“Because what if you’re ugly? You think I want to traumatize myself? No, thank you,” you sassed.

The man scoffs. “Oh please, I look like one of your boyfriends,” The man says arrogantly.

You snort loudly. “You wish! What kind of sick joke is this, you weirdo? I have a game to get back to if you excuse me,” You said. Without opening your eyes, you turn around and begin to use your crowbar as a guide. There is no way you’re going to look at the strange person that claims to look like one of your boyfriends. It’s weird and unsettling. The man huffs and marches towards your retreating form, blocking the exit by standing in front of it with his arms over his chest, glaring down at you.

“I will not let you leave this room until you open your eyes,” The man states.

You groan. “Fine! If you don’t leave me alone after this, I’m going to hit you with my crowbar!” You hiss. You open your eyes and immediately glare up at the person, only for your face to drop, and you become almost as white as a ghost; the color drains from your face. “What the fuck,” you whisper. You drop the crowbar, and it rattles loudly on the cement floor of the facility; the sound of the crowbar hitting the ground rings in your ears.

The man looks like Dottore, but he’s not Dottore— if that makes sense. The only difference is the mask shows the corner part of his jaws and mouth. You can see his red eyes staring down at you, clearly enjoying the reaction he got out of you.

“Now, was that so hard?” He pouts at you mockingly before chuckling to himself. “Before you scream your head off and attempt to beat me with that crowbar of yours, I am one of Dottore’s segments.” He introduces himself, bowing to you dramatically.

You flinch as if you’re clutching your pearls and squatting down, trying to reach for the crowbar without taking your eyes away from (one of) Dottore’s segments. “You know, you look like Dottore, but you don’t look like him,” you said, squinting at the strange man in front of you.

Dottore’s segment rolls his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re not the brightest, are you?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I’m going to hit you now,” you declared. You swing the crowbar around and slowly make your way toward him. “And once I’m done hitting you, I will continue my search for my men, and perhaps the real Dottore will drag you back to his lab and get rid of you,” you smile at him.

Dottore’s clone lets out an amused laugh, his shoulders bouncing. “Oh, please. You really think that he will get rid of one of his segments because his plaything says so?” Dottore clone asks, smirking at you.

You tilt your head to the side and pretend to think for a moment. “I don’t know. But I guess we shall wait and see,” You said, lightly hitting the palm of your hand with the crowbar. “Speaking of Dottore, does he know that one of his segments is here?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at Dottore’s clone.

Dottore’s clone smirks and begins to chuckle to himself. “Do you think Dottore would care about me being here right now?” He asks.

“Yes,” you deadpan. “Since you’re a clone, I’m going to test out how durable you are,” you said, stopping in front of Dottore’s clone.

The clone suddenly bursts out laughing; his laughter fills the room and sends unsettling chills down your spine. You’ve heard Dottore laugh before, but whenever his clone does it, it sounds disturbing and makes you feel uneasy. Without a second thought, you began swinging the crowbar at him.

While you’re locked in the room with Dottore’s clone, the men assume that you purposely slam the doors shut to get them to come out from the places they’re hiding in. They peek their heads from their hiding spots and stare at the closed room with questionable looks.

“Do you think [Y/N] did that on purpose to lure us out from our hiding spots?” Ayato asks.

Zhongli shrugs his shoulders. “Not that I know of, but they’ve been in that room for a while,” Zhongli replies, refusing to take his eyes away from the door.

“This is a bad idea; playing Windtrace in an abandoned factory isn’t a smart idea,” Thoma says, running his hands through his messy blond hair while pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Why did we agree to play Windtrace in a vacant factory? From my perspective, I see nothing but trouble waiting to happen,” Baizhu says, letting out a huff of breath, closing his eyes, and resting his head against the wall behind him.

Diluc leaves his hiding spot and slowly walks to the center of the room where you once stood. Diluc looks up to the room that you have stepped into, anxiousness biting at him, and sweat begins to collect in his gloves as he waits for you to leave the room.

“Something’s not right,” Diluc mutters, noticing a light flickering in the room that was once pitch black. One by one, each man left their hiding spot and gathered around near Diluc in the middle of the facility.

Pierro turns to look at Tighnari and Gorou. “Both of you have a keen sense of hearing; can you two hear what’s going on?” Pierro asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gorou and Tighnari look over at each other and then back at the men nervously.

“While the door slamming shut may seem like a prank at first, I did hear [Y/N] talk to someone,” Gorou says, letting out a shaky sigh.

Tighnari nods his head. “Now, many of you may assume that [Y/N] could be talking to themself, but they’re not. They’re not alone in that room,” Tighnari says.

Capitano glares at Gorou and Tighnari underneath his mask. “And you didn’t inform us about it the minute you heard someone else speak?” Capitano demands, causing Gorou to tense up and glare up at the tall Harbinger.

“Let’s not start something right now,” Al Haitham says, stepping in front of Tighnari and Gorou, glaring at Capitano.

“Al Haitham is right. What we need to focus on right now is making sure that [Y/N] gets out of that room and is safe,” Cyno speaks up, his eyes trained on the closed door.

“Okay, then, who goes up the stairs first and leads the way?” Aether asks, looking at the men with his eyebrows quirked up.

Back in the room, you sigh and slump down against the wall, letting the crowbar fall to the ground. You expected Windtrace to go smoothly with little to no problems, and yet here you are. Dottore’s clone stands in front of you and smiles down at you almost mockingly. You glared up at him and kicked his legs.

“Don’t look at me like that with your beady eyes,” you grumble. “I did as you told, and that is to look at you. Now you’re refusing to let me go? How absurd,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

Dottore’s clone squats in front of you and tilts your head up by the chin, inspecting the littlest details on your face. You scrunch your face up and move your face out of his grasp. He has no right to touch you, and yet he boldly did it again? Men like Dottore’s clone really have nothing but audacity.

He smirks and stands back up. “You’re cute, feisty even. I can see why he wants to clone you,” Dottore’s clone says, walking off.

“Wait, what?” You get off the ground as quickly as you can. “You want to run that by me again?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at Dottore’s clone. Alarms are going off in your head, and you’re not entirely sure if the clone was saying that just to mess with you or if he actually means it.

“No, no, you have a round of Windtrace to get back to. I have kept you in this room long enough,” Dottore’s clone says, waving off your question nonchalantly. You can see the corner of his lips curving up into a faint smirk.

You grumble to yourself and walk to the door, pushing by Dottore’s clone and opening the door, only to see the men with their weapons drawn out, ready to break the door down. You stare at the men, and they stare back at you with wide eyes. You look at their weapons and their weapons quickly disappearing in thin air.

You rub the back of your neck. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting for a while. Something was keeping me locked in here for quite a while and would not let me leave,” you said, turning around to glare at Dottore’s clone, only to see that you were alone. “What the—” you did a double take.

You lean against the doorframe and close your eyes for a moment. “Am I going insane?” You ask yourself, slowly opening your eyes.

Kaveh walks to you and grabs you by the shoulders, looking at you in the eyes before letting his gaze wander around your body, making sure that you’re not injured in any way. “Who was in the room with you?” Kaveh asks.

You sigh in defeat and let your head hang low, your forehead resting on Kaveh’s chest. “You guys might think I’m crazy,” you murmur, letting Kaveh pull you into his arms and wrap his arms around your shoulders.

Heizou frowns and places a hand on your back. “We won’t. Tighnari and Gorou heard the person’s voice from afar,” Heizou says, standing beside you and Kaveh.

You look over at Dottore nervously. “You’re not cloning me, are you?” You ask.

The air around everyone suddenly shifts, and everyone can see the color draining from Dottore’s face. Dottore laughs and crosses his arms over his chest as if he is trying to stay cool, calm, and collected. All you’re hoping is that the Dottore clone is lying to you and only said that to get a reaction out of you and that his words are completely false.

“Whoever told you that is completely false. I’m not conducting any cloning experiments at the moment, nor am I conducting any experiments as of now,” Dottore says.

Pantalone looks over at you, eyebrows raised. “Who claimed that Dottore is cloning you? It’s not that I don’t believe you, but we need to know who it is to prevent them from spreading lies,” Pantalone explains.

You scratched your neck and puckered your lips for a second. “It’s one of Dottore’s segments. He was here with me the entire time and kept me locked in this room with him. He didn’t do anything weird to me, don’t worry,” you said. “I’m just disappointed that he disappeared without letting me hit him with that dang crowbar,” you said, pointing over at where the crowbar was lying.

Thoma looks at Dottore, eyes wide. “I thought you destroyed your segments as an agreement with the Dendro archon,” Thoma says, narrowing his eyes at Dottore.

“Is it possible for one of the segments to escape before getting destroyed?” Venti whispers.

Dottore sighs and nods his head. “I did destroy the segments as an agreement with the Dendro archon, but it seems like one of them has escaped before I could destroy the rest of my segments,” Dottore murmurs, stroking his chin.

Itto laughs sarcastically and throws his hands in the air out of frustration. “Oh, great! That’s nice to hear! One of Dottore’s clones is running around Teyvat and perhaps recking havoc!” Itto says, running his hands through his hair with a sharp sigh.

“So, how are we going to track down this clone of yours?” Dainsleif asks, looking over at Dottore with a blank stare, waiting for an answer.

“I’m not entirely sure about that, but I will try to figure it out,” Dottore replies.

You clear your throat to grab their attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt all of you, but are we going to continue this round of Windtrace, or are we stopping it here for today because Dottore number two has ruined the mood?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the men.

Heizou pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. “I was hoping we would continue this round of Windtrace because I would certainly have you chase after me,” Heizou sighs wistfully. Heizou glances at you while batting his eyelashes, his bottom lip slightly poking out.

“I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to play Windtace. We might as well finish up this round and head back to the abode,” Aether says, shrugging his shoulders.

Diluc looks at you, placing his hand on your shoulders while Kaveh slowly releases you from his arms. “Are you sure you want to continue this game?” Diluc asks.

You nod your head. “Of course! I’m determined to win this round of Windtrace and rub it in all of your faces,” You said, giving Diluc a teasing smile. Diluc lets out a reluctant sigh and gives you a small smile, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“If that’s what [Y/N] wants, then who are we to refuse?” Ayato asks, the corners of his lips quirking up as he strokes your hair affectionately.

Everyone walks out of the room and down the stairs back to the first floor of the facility. You stand in the center of the first floor, cover your eyes, and wait for everyone to go back to their hiding spots. What’s Windtrace without the men constantly bickering with one another as they’re trying to return to their hiding spots? You hear a loud slap and a yelp and whine accompanying the slap.

“What was that for?!” Childe screams, his voice bouncing off the metal walls of the factory.

“You’re an idiot! Both of you!” You hear Xiao reply; you can almost hear the sound of disgust dripping from his response.

You pursue your lips and debate on whether you should speak up and ask what’s going on, but knowing the men, Childe and maybe Itto, are up to their shenanigans. Funnily enough, both Childe and Itto remind you of that one duo in the movie back in your world. Dumb and Dumber; it’s their duo name, and it’s pretty fitting for both of them.

“Let’s not fight right now, you three. Save that for the abode; the sooner we finish this game, the sooner we can all go home and relax,” Thoma says.

“And eat because I’m starting to get hungry,” Kaeya interjects.

“Hey, you guys?” you speak up, grabbing the men’s attention.

“Yo.”

“What’s up, hot stuff?”

SMACK!

“OW! FUCK!”

You shake your head and press your lips into a thin line, trying to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing. These men never fail to make you laugh. You shake your head and clear your throat, trying to remember what you’re going to say.

“So, back in my world, I tried to organize a professional hide-and-seek tournament, but it was a failure,” You said.

“Why was it a failure?” Tighnari asks.

You bite on your bottom lip and mentally pray that none of the men will disown you after this. “The good players were hard to find,” you said.

After your response, you can’t help but cringe at how bad the joke sounded. You wanted to crack a lighthearted joke that relates to hide-and-seek and take the tension off from the event that happened earlier, but it seems like you failed at that. If the men are cringing at how bad the joke was, you are cringing with them as well.

Venti clears his throat. “Was that supposed to be a joke?” Venti asks, letting out a fake laugh.

You nod your head. “Yes, it’s supposed to be a joke,” You reply. You feel your face heat up at the lack of responses to your joke; maybe this is how Cyno felt when no one laughed at his joke. Except for Venti and maybe Itto.

“I apologize for saying this, but perhaps you should go to Cyno on how to tell a good joke,” Albedo says softly.

You let out a gasp and turned in the direction where Albedo’s voice was coming from. “How rude!” You exclaim, stomping your foot on the ground playfully.

“Aha! So you do think that my jokes are good!” Cyno exclaims happily.

“Better than what [Y/N] came up with,” Venti snorts.

You shake your head and wave your arms around, assuming that the men can see what you’re doing. “Okay, that’s enough! Let’s cut the chit-chat and start playing Windtrace now!” You said, propping your hands on your hips.

“Perhaps all of you should have pretended that the joke was funny,” You hear Zhongli mutter to the men.

Baizhu chuckles. “Oh, please, Mister Zhongli. You didn’t even laugh at their joke; how do you expect us to laugh at their joke?” Baizhu says; you hear Changsheng hissing out her laughter after Baizhu’s comment.

“We’re starting the game now!” You interrupt the men.

The men fall silent, and you begin to walk around the factory, peeking into the smallest space first before moving on to the other areas of the facility. You open the small compartment and see Xiao and Scaramouche crammed in the small space; both of them look ticked off, and you wonder how both of them ended up in that small space.

“Why did you two pick this spot?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Scaramouche and Xiao.

Scaramouche and Xiao shove each other while mumbling curses under their breaths. You move out of the way when they stumble out from their spot, dusting the cobwebs and dust bunnies off their clothes.

“That damn oni and ginger said we couldn’t hide in our original spot because we’re short and they’re tall,” Scaramouche scowls, fixing his hat on his head and points at the tall, thick locker a few feet away from where the three of you are standing.

“They’re in the locker if you’re going to search for the both of them next,” Xiao huffs, fixing his fringe and gloves.

You pat Xiao and Scaramouche’s heads with a grateful smile before skipping over to where Xiao and Scaramouche pointed to. You grab onto the door handle and yank the doors open, only to see none of the two men. You turn to look at Xiao and Scaramouche, only to be face to face (well, face to chest) with Itto and Childe. You look up at Itto and Childe; the two men gaze down at you with smirks on their faces. You feel the color drain from your face; you clear your throat and peek between Itto and Childe’s arms to look at Scaramouche and Xiao.

“You’re cute,” Childe comments, grabbing your attention.

“You’re coming home with us!” Itto says, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you over his shoulders.

You squirm around in Itto’s grasp. “Hey! We’re not done with this round of Windtrace yet! I still have more people to find!” You whine, lightly punching Itto’s bare back and shooting a glare in Childe’s direction when you hear him cackle.

“Huh!?”

“I don’t think it’s fair for the both of you to take [Y/N] for yourselves,” Gorou protests, running up to you, Itto, and Childe. Gorou gives Childe and Itto a small glare, his hands clenched into fists.

“Well, too bad! Because if Scaradouche can do it, then we can too!” Itto exclaims, smacking your ass really hard.

“Ow!” You scream, clutching your aching ass cheeks with your right hand before slapping Itto’s ass back with your left hand.

Itto jolts and laughs, shaking his head with a big smile on his face. Archons, if you could smack that smile off of Itto’s face right now, you would do it in a heartbeat.

“We never gave Scaramouche permission to float away with [Y/N] in his arms, Itto,” Kazuha says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pierro shakes his head and holds his right hand up. “What did you call the Balladeer?” Pierro asks, turning to look at Itto, who stares at him like a deer caught in headlights.

Capitano lets out a snort and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning towards Pierro and muttering into the first Harbinger’s ears. “I believe that this oni called the Balladeer…. Scaradouche…” He trails off.

Scaramouche turns to look at Itto; his eyes lit with flames as he storms to Itto. Scaramouche stands in front of Itto, grabs him by the chest straps, and yanks Itto down to Scaramouche’s eye level.

“What did you call me?” Scaramouche growls, tightening his grip on Itto’s chest strap.

Itto smirks and slaps your ass for the second time. “Scaradouche; quite a fitting thing to call you when you’re acting like a little shit,” Itto says.

Scaramouche growls and zaps Itto in the stomach, causing Itto to yelp loudly and drop you on the ground. You end up landing on your face, making your back curve and crack loudly.

Everyone gasps in horror when you lay on the ground limply. You groan and stare up at the ceiling. Capitano helps you get up from the ground, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while you lean against his side. You’re still breathless from your fall and your sudden appointment with the chiropractor.

“Looks like we’ll be ending this round of Windtrace for today,” Kaveh says, shaking his head while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Al Haitham nods his head. “We all need to have a talk once we’re back at the abode. In the meantime, [Y/N] should visit the infirmary,” Al Haitham says, giving you a sympathetic look.

Capitano lifts you in his arms and carries you out of the abandoned factory with the men following behind. You’re not looking forward to returning to the abode mainly because you already know what the talk will contain (how to properly and carefully play Windtrace without hurting yourself and others around you). You’re certainly not looking forward to visiting the infirmary because that means you’ll be getting a scolding of a lifetime from Albedo, Baizhu, and Tighnari. That is as if you’re not already being scolded by the men while journeying back to the abode and estate.

Note: And that is the wrap for this week! Next week will be Crave 5 since I do need to brush up on my skills in writing smut. I do have another mini-fic smut that is going to come out soon; it's either for Pierro or Capitano, but I can't decide. Hopefully, I'll be able to choose who's next for the mini-fics! ^^ I'm hoping to make a new taglist soon and add the options of whether you want to be tagged in mini-fics or not. Anyway, for those who are new here or are returning readers, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for "Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader" and my overall taglist: @xxkatsusjinsux, @huboi, @crazyrichdaughter, @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff, @patata52, @honeybedo, @thedivinepriestress, @pencil-of-ashes, @samarill, @bakuhve, @yukima, @chaosinanutshell, @emperatris-rinaka, @neilify, @ksjjkthpjm, @jaisithebird, @mouchie, @emerald-smile, @jixlem, @the-blob-fish, @jiminscarmex, @bananazzzen, @thelost-in-time, @kryloxen, @ayolk, @tomansimp, @lordbugs, @c-camellias, @chihawari, @lilliansstuff, @zhongloml, @sweethcnvy, @wolf-chan2134, @simp4-fictional-men, @dai-tsukki-desu, @trash-queen-af, @tamayakii, @stellaris999, @hispasian-otaku, @stygianoir, @crispynutduck (if you have not been tagged, it's because you have your settings turned off for people to tag you in posts)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon (hopefully!) and will be accepting commissions through Ko-Fi!

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gamerwoman3d · 1 year ago

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Listen, if Ed Boon asked me to write official tie-in novel filth for Mortal Kombat, I would. I don't care if he sends a studio note that says "If you make Sub-Zero any gayer I'll rip your fucking head off," I'd still work for him. Who needs a head anyways. Love that guy.

Anyways here's a wonderwall of filth.

[🔞🔞🔞Check below the cut🔞🔞🔞]

Explicit, Spicy, Juicy, and definitely🔞🔞🔞past this point

I should mention- You can actually read all of my writings directly on my masterlist without logging in to tumblr.

◜Sub-Zero, Smoke, Liu Kang options - Please Be Bi-Han 🙏◞

Just use any browser app and type in mk1erotica.netlify.app in the browser's address bar to access my masterlist from anywhere on any device.

Yes. Any device. This may even work on an Apple watch, on the Parrity browser. You can probably ask Siri to open a browser and navigate to the masterlist. You can use any browser. You can use Safari, Chrome, Brave, Firefox, Microsoft Edge. It can work on a Roku if you have a web browser like Web Browser X or Xfinity. It will run on ųBrowser or Opera. But I recommend DuckDuckGo!

Multi-Character Choose your own MK1 Adventure

Reptile [Syzoth, MK1 Version]

◜ mk1 men using their powers in the bedroom part 1 of ?◞

Sub-Zero [Bi-han, MK1 version]

Neck tattoo imagines parts 1 2 AND 3

◜ mk1 men using their powers in the bedroom part 2 of ?◞

◜I Need Attention◞

◜mk1 Sub-Zero: sexiest angst trope?◞

Johnny Cage [MK1 Version]

◜ mk1 men kinks & darker motivations part 2 of ?◞

Scorpion [Kuai Liang, MK1 version]

Beta Tester [Can be read as Hanzo if you're imaginative]

Bloody Horny Kuai Liang Scorpion - https://www.tumblr.com/gamerwoman3d/737285442221801472/%F0%9D%9F%B9

BONUS MATERIAL

Skins That Would Be in MK1 If I Had A Voodoo Doll of Ed Boon [Fun, Sexy skins for Kenshi, Scorpion, Kitana, & Sub-Zero]

The Gollum Test [Essay about writing better x readers]

Sub-Zero Long Hair Posts[linked without box because of tumblr post limitations]

Part 2 : Sub-Zero Long Hair Posts[linked without box because of tumblr post limitations]

Other horny drabbles [separate list]

About This Blog [links to post about guidelines reqs etc]

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

Permissions summary: YOU HAVE MY EXPRESSED PERMISSION TO USE ANY SCREENSHOTS, GIFS, ASSETS OR CONTENT THAT I HAVE MADE OF THE GAME MK1 [MORTAL KOMBAT 1 (2023)]. EVERYONE has my enthusiastic consent. You don't have to make something I *enjoy* with those assets. You're under no obligation to please me with your content, even if it's made with bits of my content. Enjoy yourselves, go wild! Any MK1 screenshots or gifs that I make can be used for your fanworks as long as you have the legal rights to do so. [I'm pretty sure you all have the legal right to make any fanart/icons/reposts/headers/photo edits/collages/parody that you like, but I do not know every single law for every country. You're on your own to research whether you'd get in trouble for SubScorp art in Indonesia or the PRC or Alabama or wherever you are where all the rules get weird. But as long as you're not getting punished for using my MK1 gameplay in your work, go nuts! You have my permission to use the assets I've made from the game.]

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bootyshortsjacob · 6 months ago

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Resident Evil

Clesker (Albert Wesker/Claire Redfield):

1. Whiskey Neat (04-13-24)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Claire Redfield/Albert Wesker Additional Tags: S.T.A.R.S. (Resident Evil), Wall Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Alternate Universe, Aged-Up Character(s), Choking

Claire's back in town to visit her big brother, she can't drink so she takes a history lesson on the differences between a Whiskey neat and a whiskey shot. She doesn't have enough time to be savored, so she just gets taken quickly.

2. Dancing with the Devil (04-17-24)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Claire Redfield/Albert Wesker Characters: Marvin Branagh, Chris Redfield (Resident Evil), Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Barry Burton, Joseph Frost Additional Tags: Mentioned Steve Burnside, S.T.A.R.S. (Resident Evil), Aged-Up Character(s), Older Man/Younger Woman, Alternate Universe, Desk Sex, Spanking, Porn With Plot, Size Difference, Possessive Albert Wesker

Secrets are uncovered when Claire visits her brother during her summer away from college. A huge fight leads to some time spent with Chris’ boss, who didn’t seem like anyone’s biggest fan at the moment. Claire didn’t realize how much she’d come to enjoy summers in Raccoon City, especially if Captain Wesker was around.

3. Show Some Leg (04-28-24)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Rebecca Chambers/Billy Coen, Claire Redfield/Albert Wesker Characters: Rebecca Chambers, Billy Coen, Claire Redfield, Albert Wesker Additional Tags: Mildly Dubious Consent, Car Sex, Choking, Love Bites, Alternate Universe, Mentioned Chris Redfield (Resident Evil), Size Difference, Not much Billy & Rebecca Summary:

Claire’s Harley stalls and she’s a long way from Raccoon City. A familiar face stops, but she’s not getting anywhere unless she agrees to pay him back for the ride.

4. Truth or Dare (05-23-24)

Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Relationships: Claire Redfield/Albert Wesker Characters: Claire Redfield, Albert Wesker Additional Tags: Lap Sex, Cunnilingus, Smut, Size Difference, Office Party, Unsafe Sex, Alternate Universe, Dubious Consent, Truth or Dare, Ambiguous Age, Older Man/Younger Woman, Loss of Virginity Summary:

Claire and Wesker sneaks away from the RPD party to play a game of Truth or Dare.

5. Escape from Raccoon City (05-31-24) WIP

Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Relationships: Claire Redfield/Albert Wesker Characters: Claire Redfield, Albert Wesker Additional Tags: Minor Annette Birkin/William Birkin, Minor Character(s), Mentioned Leon S. Kennedy, Mentioned Ada Wong, Mentioned Sherry Birkin, Game: Resident Evil 2 Remake (2019), Loss of Virginity, Rough Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Flirting, Teasing, Arguing, Sexual Tension, Canon-Typical Violence Summary:

What happened if Wesker went into Raccoon City to try and retrieve the G-Virus himself, but spends the day with his nemesis’ younger sister instead. Claire ran away from campus after hearing the news about Raccoon City and she has one goal in mind: Finding Chris.

But isn’t it weird that she was able to find Chris’ Boss, but not him?

#masterlist #my ao3 #my fics #bootyshortsjacob #unreliable author #fanfic #fic library #fic list #resident evil #clesker #claire redfield #albert wesker

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gingernut1314 · 25 days ago

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Passion

Summary: Just thinking about a reader who is just as...passionate...as Anasui

Content: GN!reader, Anasui x reader x Jolyne, canon typical violence, JJBA Part 6 (slight spoilers about Jotaro)

Word Count: 820+

A/N: wrote this while I was half asleep and just needed it out lol. I hope you all enjoy!

↞ to Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

Just thinking about…

A reader who is just as…passionate…as Anasui

A reader whose last partner may or may not have truly been their partner in the eyes of society

But you treated them with the utmost care and saw red when someone else tried to date your partner

That relationship ended bloody and left you with a broken heart

But then you saw him and knew without a moment’s hesitation that Anasui was the love of your life

Your end-game

You make sure to treat him so well

Someone looks at him for a split second while glancing around the prison yard?

They're getting their teeth kicked in and will find bugs in their food

Anasui isn’t going to see your passion for him at first

He’s too busy brooding in the confines of Emporio’s room

But even though he doesn’t see it--doesn’t reciprocate your feelings yet

You make sure he can feel all the love you send his way

You fluff the pillows on the chair he has claimed as his own in Emporio’s room

You bring him flowers and small gifts

You sneak him the good snacks and give him any extra money you were able to take from other prisoners

You even make sure to hiss and snap at Emporio and Weather if they so much as glance at all the gifts you have worked hard to get him

He definitely noticed a difference with everyone around him, guards and prisoners avoiding eye contact or avoiding him altogether

He thinks it’s because of his past, but that is only half of the truth

The other half is thanks to your influence

He doesn’t see you yet, but you are patient

So very very patient…until Jolyne Cujoh shows up

Oh how utterly irritating she is

Oh how stupidly beautiful she is

Oh how annoyingly arrogant she is

Of course she would try to go after your man

Of course she would try to steal him from you

You hold your hurt and anger in for as long as you can because Anasui trusts her

Is trying to help her in her stupid mission

And you would do anything to please Anasui

But your patience finally runs out when you begin to see Anasui gift her gentle touches

When Jolyne begins to touch him back

When they end up alone together and all you can think about is what they are doing together

She’s bad for him

She put him in the line of danger

Nearly killed him

No amount of pep talks from Emporio can make you see reason

Not when Jolyne Cujoh still walks and breaths anywhere near the love of your life

So you come up with a plan just like how you plotted against the person who had tried to seduce your last partner

One that will put a stop to everything Jolyne Cujoh

But just as your plan begins, it comes to a screeching halt

Because Jolyne Cujoh may be an evil seductress, but she isn’t dumb

She beats the fuck out of you

Beats some sense into you about Anasui

And as she teaches you a lesson about crossing her, you are seeing her in a brand new light

See how the light hits her dagger-sharp green eyes just right, turning them into bits of emerald

See how passionate she is, not only about her boundaries but about her mission to save her father as well

You saw then that if you were hers, she would stop at nothing to make sure you were okay

So you beg on your hands and knees for her forgiveness

To let you make it up to her

And strangely enough, she lets you go

Even though you would have been more than understanding if she wished to kill you then and there for crossing her

You begin to bring her gifts and make sure no one is looking too closely at her or her friends

You begin to follow her around, becoming her personal bodyguard (not that she needs one)

You can tell she appreciates you when she gifts you a thin smile or when she speaks with you in a tone that is less biting

Oh and it’s enough to keep your heart full and warm

But when Anasui finds out how close you have gotten with Jolyne

He begins to do his own plotting

Just as you begin to plot all over again to make sure Anasui keeps his hands off Jolyne

Nothing and no one can stop you two from fighting

From murder attempt after murder attempt

No one but Jolyne who you two are always quick to obey like a pair of dogs

But when enemies begin to try and harm Jolyne

You two come to terms with your situation and agree that Jolyne can belong to both of you

…at least until her father is saved

then you two can go back to your plotting and planning against each other

#anasui x reader #anasui x you #anasui x y/n #jolyne x reader #jolyne x you #jolyne x y/n #jolyne cujoh x reader #narciso anasui #narciso anasui fic #jolyne cujoh #jolyne cujoh fic #jjba #jjba fic #jjba part 6 #jjba part 6 fic #my fics #divider by kodaswrld

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malina-33 · 1 year ago

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Single choice

Summary: It’s summer 2022, Nortern Italy, Miles and Alex are on vacation before The Car tour.

And they are happier than ever.

Word count: 3,5k

A/N: I missed the everyday cozy life of their relationship, so I wrote this :) Creative-crisis conversations presented as well, but they don’t take far away from the happy ending. Inspired by "Call me by your name", so for a better atmosphere, I advise you to include this playlist in the background.

Also, English is not my first language, so if you find grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out to me!

Enjoy these two sweeties💕

The wide shirt's hem fluttered in the warm wind, three buttons at the top were casually undone, and the sleeves were carelessly rolled up to the elbows. Alex, covering his eyes, lay on a soft sun lounger under the shade of the terrace's arches of their small villa in Portofino, stretching out his long legs. His chest rose and fell slowly in sleep, while his hands rested relaxed on the armrests. Silken curls played with the gusts of breeze, but surrendering, they fell onto his face and tickled his nose, causing the man to unconsciously wrinkle it like a child.

Miles couldn't take his eyes off this literally biblical scene. "Taking Al away to the Italian Riviera for two weeks before the tour started was my best decision" the man thought smugly. Only God knew when they would be able to spend such peaceful time alone again, without rushing anywhere and hiding from anyone. And now, leaning against a marble column with his hands folded on his chest, Kane smiled until wrinkles formed around his eyes, unable to believe what he was witnessing. These sprawling palm trees in their backyard, the deafening trills of southern birds, the sweet sea air, and a serene tanned Alex in a milky linen suit, quietly dozing off after lunch - all of this was now accessible only to him, Miles, and he savored every second of this vacation that sometimes seemed surreal, like a calm before the storm. But he persistently pushed away such thoughts, continuing to revel in his own paradise.

They had already spent 10 days here, the first 3 of which they didn't venture beyond their plot on the hill, which offered a breathtaking view of the coast and emerald water. They were lingering in bed for a long time under the biting rays of the sun, plucking mandarins straight from the tree, and listening to vinyl records of Celentano on the veranda in the evenings, intertwining in each other's arms, merging and becoming the one. Then, finally realizing that missing the opportunity to stroll through such picturesque streets would be a crime, they started going out in town under the mountain after the sunset, when the heat subsided and the cicadas began their twilight concert. Every time they ordered a new pasta dish in local restaurants, hoping to try them all, but that was Italy...

In the mornings, they descend to the pebble beach, where Alex could lie for hours, reading books, while Miles were snorkeling in the Ligurian Sea, growing tired of waiting for his lover and retaliating by playfully splashing him with cool droplets. They would play in the water like teenagers, dunking each other or taking turns piggybacking. When the sun would started to scorch their skin, they would go to the local deli for ready-made lasagna with eggplant, always getting a few types of cannoli, new bottle of wine, olives and fruits. They would then retreat to their villa for the rest of the day, either playing the guitar, the only one they brought from their stuffy LA studio, or playing board games (for which Miles constantly called Alex "nonno," while he calmly continued to roll the dice), or falling asleep under the shade of the leafy trees right on the grass.

Miles hadn't laughed so often and so loudly, and more importantly, so genuinely, since their last joint tour. He felt an immense universal joy that was bursting from his chest, causing his cheeks to ache from the ever-present smile on his face. He felt alive next to the dearest and only person who truly understood him, which Alex had been for the past 17 years.

"How have we put up with each other for so long, Milo?" Turner laughed, finishing his glass of semi-sweet red wine.

And Kane replied seriously, capturing his alcohol-glistening gaze: "I no longer know how to live without you, Al."

And it was the absolute truth. They often had conversations like this, but Alex never actually put up with Miles, he did love him. He only put up with being apart from him. And it was always important for both of them to hear this small confession, like a spark of a cricket in the foliage, but a heart-wrenching one, even after a year, or 10, or 20 years of their relationship.

Relationship? Friendship, love, presence by each other's side, support, musical inspirations, passionate desires, care, hurt, forgiveness, kisses, hugs backstage and on stage, touches all over their bodies, eloquent glances, and ending with a single word proposals. That's what their relationship was. And if Miles were offered to never be a musician but to love Alex, he would still agree without any hint of hesitation, somewhere deep inside bitterly realizing that if Alex were faced with such a choice, he would have to think about it.

But at this moment, Miles didn't want to think about it at all, he only wanted to listen to his lover's steady breathing and bask in the fading sunlight with him. Miles walked around the column and silently sat down on the edge of the lounge chair. He lightly ran his hand over Turner's knee, not wanting to disturb, and then traced chiseled fingers slightly higher, along his thigh. However, even these gentle movements made Alex squirm, furrowing his brow and rolling over to the other side.

"Shh, sleep, my dear, I didn't mean to wake you," Miles whispered, soothingly continuing to stroke the man's leg.

"But I'm already awake," mumbled Alex sleepily, opening his eyes and immediately squinting in the bright light.

"What a shame," Kane sang mockingly, secretly delighted by this fact because he had missed Alex during the silence at their villa and mindless wandering through the rooms while he slept in the fresh air, "Will you move over?".

Alex squeezed himself into the corner of the lounge chair, making space as much as the single bed allowed. Miles approached him with a cunning smile, lying on his side, unable to fit his broad shoulders on the mattress even if he was alone, and invitingly opened his palms. Turner simply snorted and muttered something about a smug cat, pressing his back against Miles' contrasting cool chest compared to the scorching heat outside, covering man's hand that rested peacefully on his waist with his own, and intertwining their legs.

"So, you woke me up just to sleep together all cramped up? I don't want to anymore," Alex slowly stroked Miles' wrists, who closed his eyes in pleasure.

"Mmm, I just got bored being alone, you've been sleeping forever!"

"Mi, maybe an hour and a half at most," Turner said in a lecturing tone, turning slightly to give Kane a disapproving look.

"Well, I call that forever. Anyway, since you're already awake, let's think about our plans for the evening," Kane quickly changed the subject, kissing Alex's back of the neck, "I saw a poster for a local concert in the neighboring town. We can rent a scooter to get there, it's just a few kilometers away."

Alex burst out laughing at the last words, turning in his lover's embrace and almost touching noses with him.

"Oh, Kane, you don't even have a driver's license! And the fact that I rode 100 meters on it in a clip means nothing."

"We'll figure it out somehow, it can't be more difficult than tuning a guitar for the first time."

"Well, since I have such an experienced and confident driver, I can't deny myself the pleasure," Turner teased, pouting his lips and furrowing his brows like a college girl.

"Gosh, how cheap that sounds, Al. Those are second-rate tricks from middle school. Did I teach you to flirt like that?" Miles rolled his eyes, hiding a smile in the corners of his mouth.

"No, I think we just fucked right away," Alex retorted, immediately receiving a playful jab in the ribs, "Hey! Am I lying?"

"Do I need to remind you who first put his knee between my legs in the dressing room, huh?" Miles smirked, tucking Alex's overgrown locks behind his ear and stroking his slightly stubbled cheek. He looked angelically peaceful now, despite his unholy words.

"And do you regret it?" Seeing the silent denial, he continued, "Well, neither do I. So you don't need to teach me how to flirt, maestro. If we want to find a free scooter before sunset, we need to start getting ready. I was also planning to take a shower," Alex casually mentioned, slyly avoiding eye contact and running his hand suggestively along Miles' waist.

"Well, that's better already, at least the hints are subtler, but you've lost your touch. I'll have to remind you."

"Oi, you better do it indeed" Turner whispered in his ear. Honestly, he was amused at how they, two grown adults, were behaving as soon as intimacy was mentioned - it was like they were back in 10th grade of the school.

Once he calmed down, he reluctantly slipped out of the warm embrace and gracefully got up from the sun lounger, stretching and rising on tiptoes to better loosen his stiff limbs. Miles settled himself more comfortably, royally occupying the vacant spot and propping his head on his hand, watching Turner's toned body with a hungry gaze. He could do this for hours, knowing every mole, wrinkle, and scar.

"What are you looking at? Trying to find gray hairs?" Unable to withstand his scrutinizing eyes, the frontman softly spoke. Now he had his hands in the pockets, exposing his face to the sun and wind, which cautiously peeked onto the veranda through massive columns. Somewhere far below, the sound of the waves and children's laughter could be heard. Idyllic.

"It's too early for you to worry about that. I just can't get enough of looking at you. Clearly, this lifestyle suits you well, even though I fattened you up a bit, considering you were all skin and bones when you arrived."

"Afraid of breaking me?"

"I am," Miles admitted, not completely sure if he interpreted the question correctly. Turner smiled disarmingingly, the way he only smiled at him, leaned in, still keeping his hands in pockets, and planted a chaste kiss on the man's forehead before disappearing through the door.

"Catch up, or I'll manage without you," Alex said over the shoulder, fully aware that he wouldn't be able to handle anything without Miles. Not in life, not in the shower.

***

Comparing guitar tuning and riding a scooter turned out to be inappropriate, as Miles pointed out rather immodestly, getting behind the wheel, because the second one was elementary. During their short ride along the coast, Alex couldn't stop capturing breathtaking views with his vintage Canon. The peach-colored waves gently licked the shore, competing with each other for ownership of every stone on the beach, while the numerous bushes along the road swayed in the wind.

The neighboring town turned out to be Santa-Margherita-Ligure, welcoming the men with the warm glow of lights strung between each café and the loud Italian laughter that didn't quiet down until late at night. Leaving their mean of transport on the waterfront, they headed towards the main square, where light jazz melodies could already be heard. Ordinary chairs stood right on the historical cobblestones, occupying almost all the space, and a small mobile stage had been set up in the center, where musicians were tuning their instruments.

Taking seats in the corner of the front row, the men waited for the performance to begin.

"Have you forgotten what it's like to be on the other side of the stage?" Miles whispered, his lips almost touching Alex's ear.

"Sometimes I even prefer it here," Turner sadly smiled, "no obligations, masks, rehearsed lines, or unjustified expectations. You just exist in the music without thinking about how to reproduce it. I miss that."

Kane anxiously studied Alex's face from the side, trying to understand if he was speaking in a state of creative melancholy inspired by the upcoming concert or if he was simply revealing his deep pain that had burdened him all this time.

"Hey, I didn't mean to put you into existential ponderings. We can talk about it if it really bothers you, but not now. I purposely brought you here to relax and spend these last days with an empty mind, not to reflect on one careless question"

Miles didn't condemn him, but rather tried to hide his own anxiety behind a feigned admonition. He gently squeezed Alex's hand, caressing his knuckles with his thumb, and warmly smiled, knowing that this was the only support he could offer in public.

"Sorry-sorry-sorry," Alex babbled, running his hands forcefully over his face and organizing his thoughts, "forget about those words, we'll come back to it another time. You can hit me if I utter another sad-philosophical phrase that upsets you tonight."

Miles only laughed at that, patting his friend's knee, and, unable to resist, left an unnoticed kiss on his cheek, indicating that he would never fulfill his request in their lifetime.

Lost in conversations, they hadn't noticed that all the chairs had been taken and the band on stage was counting down seconds until the performance began, tightly gripping their bows in their hands. The increasingly suspenseful sound of the violin filled the entire square, eliciting sudden shivers from the audience and instantly isolating them from the rest of the world. Alex's full attention was now focused on the five people on stage, the sound that seemed to exist right in his head, and the melting night air. Rarely could he simply enjoy the melody without trying to dissect it into notes or analyze the lyrics.

Miles usually smoothed out the crease between his eyebrows that arose from such contemplation with a kiss, and he was ready to do it now, but as his gaze slid across the side of the face, he unexpectedly saw a serene smile on partially open lips. Turner leaned back in his chair, holding his hands between his thighs and slightly covering his eyes, which indicated his complete absence in our reality and his presence in his own, understood only by him and undoubtedly bringing him pleasure.

The concert lasted only an hour, not abundant in a wide repertoire. Towards the end, young men and women, children, and even racy grandmothers and grandfathers stood up from their seats to dance right in the square, laughing loudly at their clumsiness. Alex and Miles only watched this scene with warm smiles, tapping their feet rhythmically on the stone pavement, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention to themselves. The clock on the tower, located on the western side of the square, as was customary in all ancient city planning laws, struck 10 o'clock exactly at the moment when the musicians, in the heat of the final chord, sharply raised their bows towards the pitch-black sky, ending the performance. The square drowned in applause and whistling, evoking familiar motives from men's careers.

The air intoxicated their heads, and not wanting to return back so early, they turned into the depths of the city. Turner continued to photograph the local architecture and Miles against its backdrop with mocking skill, not allowing the camera to hang peacefully on his chest for more than two minutes. And when tourists would disappear from their sight, Kane with the agility of a cheetah would press Alex against the nearest wall of another you-know-who-lived-in-this-house-you-lustful-bastard building, pulling him into a tempting kiss and, despite all protests about his indifference to history, smiled contentedly on his lips, feeling Alex pull him closer by the collar of his leopard-print shirt.

They would laugh drunkenly, without drinking a glass, immediately receiving Italian curses from open balconies in response. They would play tag on narrow streets, after which they breathed heavily, resting their elbows on thr knees and joking about their advanced age. They would eat mango ice cream, licking the sweet drips from each other's fingers, and would never stop thinking for a moment about how lucky they are to be loved here and now.

***

They returned to the villa at midnight, exhausted from their long walk, hastily discarding their sticky clothes as they collapsed onto the unmade bed. Alex, resting his chin on Miles' chest, looked at him with such devoted eyes that Miles' heart skipped a beat at the impossibility of resisting those bottomless depths. In the moonlight, his sharp features softened, Alex's fingers gently tracing along the line of his jaw, while a warm smile lingered beneath his closed eyelids, etching itself into Miles' memory with fiery strokes.

"Mi, are you asleep?" Alex asked in a barely audible voice, listening to the rhythm of Miles' heartbeat beneath his cheek.

"No," Miles replied just as softly, shifting slightly on the crisp sheets to find a more comfortable position.

"Do you remember what I told you today about not feeling freedom in music?" Alex continued, as if afraid to disturb his own thoughts, "well, I realized just now that I'm the one closing myself off from it. But you know when? When you're not here. I'm tired of pretending to be someone else without you, tired of feeling not myself without you. And today, there on the square, when you were holding my hand, it hit me that since we met, no one else has come this close to me. You were and still are the only person who truly knows me. Can you imagine?" His voice broke into a hoarse laughter that, truth be told, sounded hauntingly beautiful in the peaceful silence.

"No one really knows me except for you. And I've been afraid to show my true self to anyone but you. But today, for the first time in a long while, I was able to listen to music without thinking about anything else but your fingers on my hands. And I realized," he paused, unconsciously gripping Miles' shoulder tighter, "I realized that I can perform on stage, just thinking about your hands, and then I won't have to try to hide behind a fabricated image to entertain the audience. Damn it, at 36 years old, I've come to the realization that I can simply sing without pouring my own problems into the songs, but instead, just give people the sound. A sound that resonates in their minds, in their feet and hands, a sound that makes them feel alive. I can make at least one of their days truly happy, just like you make my life happy simply by being with me."

Throughout this entire time, Miles never removed his nimble fingers from Alex's head, combing through his hair and soothing him. He could listen to his voice forever, automatically arranging the words into lines for new songs. The sight of Alex — until it stole the air from his lungs, until it brought tears to his eyes, until his pulse faltered in his veins, until a volcano of warmth erupted in his chest. Until he feels alive again.

"Al, if you haven't realized in 20 years of performing what you do for the lives of everyone who attends your concerts, then I'm going to have to enlighten you now," Miles chuckled softly, continuing to massage his head, "everything you've done for the industry is your way of existing in this world. You don't know any other ways, and that's your strength, not weakness. Your music is literally you, it's not about trends or fan requests. It's about how you communicate with others. You have an incredible gift of conveying intangible values through your lyrics. I have no idea how the gears in your mind work, but damn it, you're exceptional. And I swear, anyone who has ever heard any of your songs has pondered the words, thought about what you wanted to say, and ultimately thought about themselves. Your music has meaning, it's not just a string of letters for the sake of rhyme. It's a dictionary of your life. And since the day we first met, I've been carefully studying all your meanings and embodiments, so my music is about you and for you. You are my only inspiration, and if all you need to write a new song is a notebook and an image in your mind, then all I need is you by my side."

Miles may have wanted to add something more, but unable to bear the weight of such declarations of love, Alex impatiently kissed him, exhaling loudly from the fulfillment of a desire that had been building throughout his entire speech. Kane, quickly finding another activity for his tongue besides talking, trailed it along Alex's lower lip, feeling every crack from the salty water.

Alex smiled like a child, whispering 'I lovelovelove you' into his man's lips, continuously running palms along his cheeks. They continued to gaze at each other for a long time, carrying on a quiet conversation interrupted by occasional kisses, shivers down the spine, and tearful thank yous for everything. Even the stars, cautiously peering through the open windows, blushed at their whispers under the thin blanket. Only with the first rays of sunlight, when words ran out and lips swelled from endless contact, men finally fall asleep in a tangle of intertwined arms and legs.

And if Alex were offered to never be a musician but to love Miles, he would without hesitation write a song about it. Because it would be meaningless to confront the person with a choice who made it 17 years ago.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: I sincerely want to believe that this is how everything really happened for them. All in all, these two deserve a happy ending. I will be incredibly happy if you leave feedback after reading! Everything that was born in my head would very much like to find a response in you💔🥺

#alex turner #miles kane #milex #the car era #milex fic #milex fanfiction #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner imagine #Milex oneshot #alex turner one shot #milex 2023 #alex turner fanfic #am7 era #milex au #tlsp2 #tlsp #last shadow puppets

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6pixiepop9 · 9 months ago

Text

Unpayable Bill (aka Pay your Tab); Bitter Roofie

Please be wary of the tags!!

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Rape/Non-Con

Categories:

M/M

Multi

F/M

Fandom:

Cookie Run (Video Game)

Relationships:

Cocoa Cookie/Mint Choco Cookie (Cookie Run)

Herb Cookie/Sparkling Cookie (Cookie Run)

Herb Cookie/Mint Choco Cookie/Sparkling Cookie/Vampire Cookie (Cookie Run)

Characters:

Herb Cookie (Cookie Run)

Sparkling Cookie (Cookie Run)

Mint Choco Cookie (Cookie Run)

Vampire Cookie (Cookie Run)

Additional Tags:

Sparkling Cookie's Juice Bar (Cookie Run)

Rape/Non-con Elements

Rape

Non-Consensual Touching

Drug Use

Non-Consensual Drug Use

Date Rape Drug/Roofies

Anal Sex

Non-Consensual Kissing

Non-Consensual Oral Sex

Non-Consensual Blow Jobs

Minor Violence

Sexual Violence

Hurt

Emotional Hurt

All of them are drunk

use of alcohol

Cocoa cookie is mentioned

Mint Choco and Cocoa are dating

Mint Choco needs a hug

Hurt No Comfort

Forced Orgasm

Cookie Run Characters Have Human Traits

Cookie Run Characters Have Jam Instead of Blood

Gang Rape

Language: English

Summary:

Mint Choco's life was good. He met the love of his life, he was living his dream, but most importantly his friends stayed with him. Even after all these years he never regretted befriending them. He didn't know that way of thinking could change in one night. He didn't know his life could have been destroyed in one night.

Notes:

This plot had been in my mind for a while, I hope it's good!

"I think I really love her." Mint Choco smiled, looking into his glass. The others looked at him all with neutral faces. "Ha… I thought about buying a ring and everything."

"Well, I think that's great." Sparkling smile at his customer, cleaning one of his glasses.

"I am happy for you man. Just sad to see you get tied down so quickly." Vampire mumbled, taking another shot.

"Cocoa would be overjoyed that you want to marry her." Herb puffed out smoke. "She is a really lucky lady."

"You know guys, I think she is the one." The composer sighed, putting his head on his hands. "I wonder what she's out doing now?" He hummed, eyeing down the liquid in his cup.

No one said anything, instead, they all looked at each other. Each one of them knew that it was tonight. It was too perfect of a time. "Well then." Sparkling finally broke the silence. "Since this will be our last time seeing you here's a drink. On the house." He pushed him a tall vodka, his favorite drink.

"Don't say that." Mint Choco frowned, still happily taking both of the shots. "I am not going anywhere. I'll visit you guys outside the bar alright?" He smiled, feeling a little more intoxicated from it.

"Yeah, yeah." Vampire hiccuped. "Still, won't be the same, we had all met in this bar." He was right, Mint Choco remembered years ago when he first came here.

He was only a dreamer back then. Now, look at him, going stage to stage. Living the life. "Well maybe on the weekends." Mint Choco smiled, his eyes starting to fluster. The drug was taking its effect already. "When did this stuff become stronger?" He smiled, as Sparkling went to lock the front door.

He closed all the curtains and put up his closed sign. "You're closing pretty early today." Mint Choco looked around. There were no customers left, it was only him and his friends. Everyone must have already gone home. It was quiet except for the soft jazz music playing.

"Oh, don't worry about that." He shook his head, turning to face him. "We are always the last ones here anyways." He smiled, standing close to him.

Mint Choco nodded before getting up, "I should probably go now." He went to walk towards the door but was stopped when hands grabbed his waist.

"What if you stay the night?" Vampire smiled, putting his chin on his shoulder.

"Why the sudden interest?" He asked, trying to remove his hands, but to no avail. He was trapped between Vampire's arms.

"Because we want to make sure you don't try to run away or something like that." He smirked, pulling him closer by his hips. He slid out of Vampire's hands and walked up to the door. "Hey, where do you think you're going?" Vampire yelled. Mint Choco ignored his questions and tried to open the door.

"Unlock the door."

"Why should he?" Herd asked. "All you're going to do is stay with that bitch and leave us behind."

"Shut it, Herb!" Mint Choco growled, "You will not talk about Cocoa like that." He said glaring at him.

"Why would you leave us for some random whore?!' Herb shouted, walking up to him.

"I am not leaving any of you guys. What is your fucking problem?!" His anger rose higher and faster than ever. He could feel it boiling inside of him.

Vampire had pushed him to the floor, his back hit it. The redhead held his wrists above his head. Before Mint could chew him out he felt his lips on his. He could taste red wine on his lips. Mint struggled, kicking his legs. But he couldn't break free.

Mint Choco felt someone grab his leg and hold him down. What the hell were they doing? Vampire pulled back, panting.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Mint screamed and Vampire couldn't seem bothered at his outburst. "What is wrong with you!? You know I have a girlfriend!"

Vampire laughed. "You don't have a fucking girlfriend! The only cookies you have are us."

Mint broke his hand free and punched him hard. "And you are not my boyfriend!" He kept hitting until his hands were held back. It was Sparkling. "What the fuck!? Let go of me!"

He cried, trying to get away. Sparkling pushed him back to the floor but this time his hands were held by him. He struggled around, trying to hit someone else. Vampire kissed him again, but it was way more aggressive.

Vampire didn't stop and Sparkling watched with a frown. Mint felt sick. The kiss, the touches, and the way he kissed him, it was so different and he wanted nothing more than to stop.

"Shouldn't we move on?" Herb complained from behind Vampire. Mint tried to throw him off, but was only able to get him to stop kissing him.

"Get off me!" He shouted and kicked Vampire in his stomach, making him let go.

"Mint chill." Herd scolded, replacing him. But was now sitting right on his lap. Mint glared at him, bucking around.

"Leave me alone."

Herb smiled, looking down at him. "That is not how you treat your boyfriend."

Mint scoffed, "We aren't dating!" Vampire got back up from the ground slowly, holding his side.

"How much did you put in his drink?!" Vampire yelled at the bartender.

"Obviously not enough." Sparkling frowned.

"You should have given him way more."

It took a bit to understand but when he did he yelled. "YOU TRIED DRUGGING ME!?" He raged.

"Yes, but it was a good drink was it not?" Sparkling winked at him.

"Can we move on now?" The alcoholic complained, putting his hand on his thighs. Mint Choco yelped.

"Fine, be my guest." Sparkling smiled as Vampire started to put his hand in Mint's boxers.

"Noo!" The composer's eyes widened. "Stop it!" He tried to pull his hand away but failed. They all chuckled.

Mint Choco kept screaming.

"Dude, just chill." Herb mocked.

"Stop it!" Mint Choco yelled louder. "Stop touching me!" Mint Choco yelled when he felt his dick be kissed by cold air. Mint gasped.

Everyone stared at the redhead.

Mint Choco continued to scream until tears began rolling down. His breathing became erratic. Vampire was kissing his neck. "I love you." His words slurred, starting to rub over his shaft.

Mint tried to fight him but Sparkling pulled him forward. Herb bent down to kiss him and whispered 'I love you' over and over again when Vampire went to catch his breath. Soon everyone was kissing Mint Choco on the cheeks.

He shut his eyes tight, hoping for it all to stop.

"This isn't funny!" Mint Choco begged.

"It is hilarious though." Sparkling smiled, leaning against him. "Give us a smile~."

"NO!" Mint Choco struggled.

"I can see you are enjoying this." Herb teased, getting off Mint. He put himself between his legs while licking his tip. Mint Choco kept trying to get himself away but he was stuck between all of them.

The other two started kissing him all over his neck, leaving wet trails of saliva until their kisses traveled down to his chest. Sparkling and Vampire kissed him like it was their very last time.

Mint Choco sobbed. "STOP IT!" He shouted, pushing at them. He tried to break away but none of them would give up. Herb sucked on his length, licking it as if he was some tasty treat.

It was all too overwhelming and Mint Choco hated it. He could feel his heart racing. His body shivered in fear. His tears wouldn't stop falling.

"STOP IT! STOP IT, GET OFF, PLEASE!" He pleaded, shaking them off. Their mouths stayed attached, giving him no chance to push them away.

He could feel his climax start to come but he didn't want to release, even if it was delaying the inevitable.

Vampire joined in, licking the part Herb didn't have in his mouth. Mint Choco let out a loud moan. This feeling was too good, he couldn't help it.

They sucked and licked it for the longest time and the warmth in his abdomen became overwhelming.

Mint Choco felt the orgasm coming soon, he moaned harder. He knew he didn't have much time left. "STOP IT!" He tried pushing them off his body but still, their hands gripped onto his arms and legs.

"Please!" He begged.

Herb put his cock deep down his throat and took one last glance at him."STOP!" Mint Choco screamed, feeling his hot liquid burst into Herb's mouth. He seemed to try and hold it all in his mouth but failed. Cum dripped onto his leg.

They looked at each other than at his penis, "So delicious." Vampire said with a smile, licking up the rest.

"No!!" Mint Choco screamed again, tears flowed freely down his face.

"Come on, this is your fault." Herd said, gulping the rest. He grabbed his member and the two started kissing and licking him all over. Mint Choco couldn't believe it. His whole body shook and trembled from both shock, pain, and pleasure.

But it wasn't long till Mint Choco couldn't take anymore and he lost control, shooting out all over their faces. He screamed, covering his mouth with his arm. But the others didn't notice anything.

All of them kept licking up every last drop of cum on his member. Mint Choco cried as he came, throwing his head back. He fell so weak as they sucked every drop he had to offer.

Sparkling laughed, "Are you enjoying this?" He asked, letting go of his hands.

"NO!" Mint Choco yelled, covering himself. Sparkling grinned, taking a condom out of his back pocket. He threw off his pants as he opened the wrapper. But was stopped. "Don't, he doesn't deserve it." Vampire took it out of his hand and threw it somewhere. Sparkling shrugged, putting his tip over his hole.

"Let's finish what we started!" Herb threw off his own pants and put himself on top of Mint's dick. Mint Choco closed his eyes but it didn't stop the sounds of pleasure when Herb sat down. He could feel Herb squeeze around his dick. It felt so wrong that he was actively enjoying this. Sparkling moved in closer pushing himself into Mint's hole. He screamed from the pain and squeezed himself together.

Mint tried to pull away and turn over but was grabbed by the shoulders. Vampire sat on him forcing him to lay flat again. He had his pants off and his cock only inches away from his mouth. Mint Choco whimpered, trying to wiggle out of their grip.

"Just relax." Vampire said, squeezing him again. Mint Choco shook his head, trying to pull free. "Relax baby," Vampire whispered, licking his lips. Mint Choco didn't even know how to react. He just kept trembling. He didn't think he would ever feel such pleasure and pain in his life.

Vampire smiled, moving close to him. He took Mint Choco's jaw in his hand and forced his head up, making him look at him. He stared at the Vampire's mouth. Mint Choco closed his eyes again. He didn't think this was going to end well.

The red head leaned closer and brushed his lips against his ear, blowing warm breath over his ear.

"Open your mouth." Mint Choco did, closing his eyes. He could feel Vampire smirking. Vampire took him by surprise, thrusting inside his mouth. Mint Choco moaned, his head dropping backward in pain.

Vampire thrust in, watching how Mint's eyes would momentarily roll back before he would snap his eyes closed once again, sucking on Vampire's tip. The bartender watched him closely, pushing deeper inside the composer hole. "You are so adorable."

Mint Choco wanted nothing more than to kill him with his own two hands but couldn't find the strength. So instead he just whined softly in agony.

Mint rolled his eyes. He really didn't want any of them. They all seemed to enjoy teasing him more than having sex with him. Everyone looked at him with wide smiles. Vampire held Mint Choco's chin gently as he thrust in and out.

"Shh, just keep moaning." The redhead told him. Mint Choco whimpered once again, pulling him in deeper. The bartender let out a soft gasp, feeling Mint tightening around his cock. Mint Choco could hear his heart beating fast, matching his own rapid breathing.

The pain he was in was slowly turning into pleasurable pleasure. Every inch was burning, feeling so good he thought he might die. "That's it. Keep going." The redhead ordered.

Mint Choco groaned softly as Vampire moved faster, pushing in and out. "Fuck! Oh, fuck!" Herb moaned while bouncing on his cock.

He bounced down until he released. His cum had stained Vampire's back and Mint's Choco stomach. The composer moaned loudly as he reached his peak, shooting inside the gardener. Herb let out an exhausted sigh. "Fuck that was good." He said panting.

Even though Mint had released, the two alcoholic drinks still went hard. Herb turned to Sparkling and started kissing him. The bartender gripped Mint's waist as they kissed passionately.

A few more hard thrusts and Sparkling screamed in pleasure. He came into Mint, filling him with seed. Sparkling laid on Herb, tired. The only one who was still going was Vampire, pumping into Mint's mouth with full force.

Mint Choco couldn't move any longer. He gave up, feeling utterly defeated. Vampire put himself down his throat. Mint Choco couldn't help but moan at the intense sensation. Vampire held on to his hair before releasing. They pulled out and collapsed on top of him.

"Oh god." Sparkling gasped, resting his head on his shoulder. "That feels so, fucking amazing~."

Herb nodded, "Yeah. That was a great ride." He smiled happily." Vampire groaned after all his seed went into Mint Choco's mouth. It tasted like expensive wine.

He instinctively swallowed it in a matter of seconds. His throat was burning. Everything hurts. He didn't think anything could be more painful. Mint Choco looked at them, still in pain. Their expressions showed disappointment yet joy too.

"You should've been more gentle," Sparkling said. He pulled out, cum dripping. Vampire got off him. And sat on the nearby barstool. And soon the other two followed.

Mint Choco hugged himself, everything hurt and he felt so disgusting. He still couldn't believe he got off to it. The composer cried in his shirt. What would Cocoa think when she finds out?

He couldn't help but feel nasty as hell but he hoped she wouldn't find out. Maybe he could just forget about this whole thing.

Everything was so dead silent, the only sounds he heard were Sparkling pouring Vampire another drink. And it's as if Cocoa had heard him because his phone started to ring. It rang out with classical music. They ignore it, letting it continue. It stopped but a few seconds later she called again.

Vampire got up and stumbled over there. Before anyone could say anything. He took the phone out of Mint's back pocket and answer it.

"VAMPIRE!" The bartender yelled running to stop him.

"What do you... what Cocoa?" He snarled.

"Where is Mint?! Where's my boyfriend?! Why do you have his phone?!" She shouted hysterically through the phone.

"Chill the.... fuck out." Sparkling took the phone and hung up in a panic.

"Fucking great." He groaned. His phone rang again, this time Sparkling answered it? "Yes, Cocoa?"

"Where's Mint, what happened to him?"

Vampire was going to say something but Herb stopped him.

"Sorry for the worry. Mint got wasted and we didn't want him to drive back."

"May I talk to him?" The bartender looked at Herb and he shrugged. "He's knocked out." He looked at the composer cry.

"I'll tell him you call." He said hanging up.

The bartender looked at Mint sobbing in pain. He sighed, pouring himself a drink. He felt a little bad but if he truly did he would have never done this. He just couldn't help it. He drank some champagne and sighed. "Just how long are you going to lay there?" Vampire asks before stealing the drink from the bartender.

Mint didn't respond, he just turned to face the other way and kept crying. He was afraid that if he talked he would cry some more. The bartender put a bottle of vodka in front of him.

He didn't trust it.

"What's wrong?" Was he being serious, they just raped him. How could he possibly feel anything but dread? "Are you going to answer?"

"I hate you," Mint whispered weakly. "I wish I never met you cookies. I hate you so much." Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.

"Why are you upset?" Herb asked, smoking another joint.

Mint shook his head. "I'm going to get sick." He said, wiping away his tears.

"Don't go throwing up on me. Just drink this." He held out the bottle of vodka to him. Mint Choco stared at the bottle in disgust. He knew that it was probably drugged alcohol but right now he needed something stronger than water to get him over this.

"It's not drugged," The bartender insisted. "Drink it." He commanded. Mint shook his head. But he rather fight against them than give them what they want. He hated their presence.

He hated being around his ex-friends. He hated being with his ex-friends. He hated himself for falling for this crazy-ass group. "We're not going to leave you alone, no matter how you scream and shout at us. Drink the damn vodka and deal with it." The alcoholic added coldly.

Mint Choco looked down at his shaking hands and then back at them. He slowly grabbed hold of the neck of the bottle with his left hand and brought the drink to his lips. He forced his lips closed and took a sip. Immediately, he felt it take over his body, making him relax a bit, allowing its warmth to flood into him.

He slowly drank more of it as the other three continued watching him. Vampire's eyes lit up and immediately he snatched the bottle from Mint's hands. He gulped most of it before handing it back to him. "I told you it wasn't drugged." He grinned.

Mint Choco glared. No one ever told you something wasn't drugged unless it was meant to drug you. So he knew better than everyone what he was saying about it being safe to drink it. He drank half of it anyway. He was thirsty after all. But he knew it was a lot. A little more and it probably would've been more than he could handle.

"I can tell you're enjoying the taste." The bartender grinned, taking the rest of the bottle and finishing it up as well. Mint Choco wanted to throw his drink at them. These cookies are ruining his life. The composer didn't like them one bit.

If they weren't drunk... If they didn't act like they loved him… Then maybe he would feel differently about them. But the truth is, he loved Cocoa. All he cared about was getting back with Cocoa as soon as possible.

Nothing else mattered.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice that they were done drinking and Sparkling were making them clean up the place. After they finished cleaning up the bar, he sat the two down. "Do you remember how you guys met?"

"Not really." Vampire yawned."I was wasted that day."

"Well, I do." Herb started, Sparkling was trying a new herb blend and I came to try it."

"Oh, I remember now! I was using you to stand." He laughed. "You were so awkward."

Sparkling nodded his head, "Yep, then Mint Choco came into the bar." They all looked at him with a smile. "He was a cute boy." They all agreed. The redhead giggled.

Mint Choco felt like vomiting "I hate you all."

"Nah you love us." Sparkling grinned, winking.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say boo." Vampire smirked.

"I hate you all!" Mint repeated, yelling.

They both chuckled. "We love you too." Herb said.

They laughed. It was such an ugly, horrible laugh. A laugh so vile you'd be disgusted by it. You don't need to hear it to be able to imagine the feeling they were having.

Sparkling handed him more drinks. He gulped it down without even thinking twice about it. He was already drunk enough so he wouldn't care anymore. Sooner or later everyone was drunk. Even the bartender started to get tipsy, he leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.

Everyone laughed and sang along to whatever was playing on the radio while drinking. Everyone except Mint Choco, he just lay there silently. Thinking about everything that just happened. What he should do. He tried to look away from them but they were looking straight ahead.

Every once in a while someone would look at him, wink at him, and make fun of him.

He looked up at the ceiling. He hated this place. Hated every single cookie here. He hated them. He hated himself. He hated that he befriended them. Why would he do that to himself?

And then suddenly he was crying again as the song changed to something much more joyful. Tears were streaming from his eyes. He covered them with his arms so that none of them could see. He started bawling his guts out, sobbing quietly to himself.

#cookie run #fanfic #dark fanfiction #mint choco cookie #herb cookie #vampire cookie #sparkling cookie #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE TAGs #I'M DONE DEALING WITH IDIOTS

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anomaly-hivemind · 1 year ago

Text

The Gaymer Chair

Part One

Warning(s): why did i write this, porn without plot, masturbation, mildly dub-con, inanimate object porn, original non-binary character, dry humping, grinding, porn watching, internal monologue, crack treated seriously, vaginal fingering, toys, knotting dildos?, edging, android, oral(everyone?) overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint, vaginal sex, praise kink,orgasm denial, orgasam control, brat, brat tamer

Summary: What do you do when you fall for the sexy ghost of your pastel gaming chair?

Part Two

Credit to @cafekitsune for the banners!

Chapter Two || The Gayer Chair

Wjian laid out on her bed as she scrolled through her phone searching for any answer.

“Wjian would you put your phone down for one minute, I told you not to worry about it,” Chaise said as they floated in the air next to Wjian.

Wjian’s eyebrows furrowed and she huffed before flopping back into the pastel rainbow fluff that covered her bed.

“Ugh! It’s just frustrating. Like you’re here with me but you’re not here. It’s- like what if you disappear one day?”

“Mon Chou but that’s the thing I’m not going anywhere-

“But what if you do! What if you disappear and I never see you again!” Wjian cried out. Tears burned in her eyes and her fingers dug into the fuzzy fabric of the comforter.

“Aww Mon Ange are you in love with me or something?” Chaise asked teasingly, floating closer to her so they were eye to eye.

“Yeah I am, asshole. I’m trying to be serious here.” Wjian said her face flushed with color.

A warm for a dead person, and a lovesick grin came to Chaise’s face at Wjian’s words before he lowered himself to look in her eyes.

“Look Wjian, I love you a lot okay, and I really appreciate you trying to find a way to get me a physical body; it’s my greatest wish to be able to hold you in my arms and kiss your cute face. But it looks like it just isn’t possible and I don't want you to run yourself ragged. I want you to enjoy your life to the fullest.Because i sure couldn't,”

“I want that for you! I just need to find out how.” Wjian laid on her bed silent, twiddling with her bracelet as she tried to get any ideas. The dangling charms made soft chimes and they brushed against one another.

Wjian suddenly shot up from her spot. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the soft fibers of the “my melody rug” she had placed down. Wjian walked over to her desk with hurried steps, swinging out the iconic pastel chair with eagerness and hastily flopping down on the flower cushion. Chaise drifted close behind her, eyes wide in curiosity.

“Wjian what are you doing now?” she looked up at him with a grin.

“I think I have someone that can help give me some ideas.” she clicked on the discord icon on her screen. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the person she needed was online. She clicked their profile and typed a quick message.

Yoo!LANDRY I need you to ask you a question, stop talking to your MoMMy for a sec.

Just ASK the Quwstion then!

Oh… so if were to want to give a ghost a body how would u dothat.

Idfk is this a sex thing?

No…

Maybe a lil but thats not the point what could i use as a “vessel”?

A robot maybe or just one of those life size anime sex dolls.

YOu really are a genius!<3 you can go back to getting e-FUCKED by your Dommy mommy XD

Shut up, have fun with you sex toy! <3

THANKs.:)

“Is your plan to make me a sex toy?” He gave her a smirk.

“Nope, I got an even better idea.”

“That being?”

“I'm going to call my rich cousin to see if he can whip you up a body.” Wjian gave him a large smile before running over to grab her phone to make the phone call.

==============================================================

A black unbranded truck pulled up in front of Wjian’s home. A bald man walked out of the truck and pulled the rear door. Wjian expectantly walked outside to greet the man. Wjian’s mother walked to her open front door, so she could see what her daughter was up to.

“Is that Paul?” her mother spoke, her voice prompting the man to look up at her. When the man looked up at her, he gave her a small wave which the mother returned before walking back inside.

The trucker handed Wjian a clipboard and told her to sign. She skimmed through the text then took the pin and signed her signature. The man took the board and threw it into his open window. He gently dragged the box out of the side of the truck, he placed it on the ground carefully and placed his hands on his hips, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

Wjian thanked the man who wheeled the large box into her house. Even though he was obviously out of breath by the end of bringing it in. Wjian slowly pushed the large box into her room.

The box was almost a foot taller than she was. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the box up as if she was opening a holiday present. Inside the box laid a tall, lean body. Their rich, dark brown skin had a nice healthy glow, like they had been recently moisturized. Wjian smiled as tears brimmed in her eyes; she couldn’t believe that Chaise was actually standing in front of her, her Chaise, in physical form. The android body was perfect from the soft curves in their face to the bouncy black curls. Wjian looked up at the Chaise who had been floating above her while she opened the box. He looked down between the box and Wjian astounded.

“Do you think… will this work?”

“I sure as hell am going to try.”

“Promise you won't just disappear.” She looked at him with hopeful but worried eyes. He gave her an uncertain look but nodded anyway. He drifted into the android and his translucent body vanished. The room was filled with eerie silence.

Wjian clasped her hands together, rubbing them slightly as sweat formed between them. Come on… Come on!

Chaise’s android body then whirred to life, their eyes fluttering as they leaned forward and stumbled out of the box.

“Chaise?” she leaned closer into the android body.

“Oui, Mon cher?” Chaise smiled.

Wjian carefully reached out her hand and gently caressed the side of their face. They were cool to the touch but not cold, and their skin was soft just like how it looked. He leaned into her warmth as if he was trying to steal it from her. He placed their hand on top of hers. Their eyes meet each other; their faces grow into smiles as they lose themselves in each other’s eyes.

==============================================================

Chaise had fully gotten into the groove of using his android body and stopped touching himself like he was a new car that is. Took them a full month to work it the way he would any human body, minus needing to eat even though he likes to snack, and needing charging but depending on which port he uses he can look like any person sleeping.

Chaise and Wjian laid on her pastel comforter enjoying the presence of them close to one another. Chaise pulls Wjian to themself, he breathes deeply into her neck even though he didn’t need to. He pressed a faint kiss against a sweet spot on her collarbone.

“Mmh… Mi Tesoro,” Wjian called gently to the android lying against her chest.

“Oui?”

“Will you try on your new clothes for me?” She asked massaging her fingers against their scalp.

“But mon ange, I’m so comfortable here in your arms~” Chaise said, squeezing her closer to them.

“I wanna see you look even cuter than you usually do! I just want to spoil you querido~” Wjian whined.

“Mon Chou-”

Before he could finish Wjian pressed a kiss to Chaise’s lips. Their lips join in an enamored kiss, taking up each other's space in a fervor of loving emotions. Chaise held her chin gently in the kiss enjoying the moment as if it were his last then pulled away.

“Okay I’ll give you your little fashion show.” Chaise sat up and turned to face Wjian, holding her face in their hands as they peppered kisses across her face.

Chaise pressed one last lingering kiss to Wjian’s lips then walked across the room to the rack where all the new clothes Wjian had bought were located.

When his new body came, they had nothing but the scrubs they came in along with two extra pairs. Fortunately Chaise didn’t have to keep wearing them after they finished the set up process of their body, as Wjian’s generous benefactor cousin had sent some money to buy a wardrobe and accessories. Albeit they did send way too much money, Wjian had fun picking out clothes with Chaise so that was all that mattered to them.

Wjian had gone a little overboard with it though…

After buying clothes, shoes, and accessories in person they also bought hair dye so Chaise’s hair could look the way it did when they were a ghost; why the factory that made his body couldn’t do it they’ll never understand, Wjian had requested it after all.

When seeing how cute he looked Wjian insisted that they took pictures for her socials, then that they have a photoshoot to commemorate the occasion, so then she had to buy matching clothes. Then on an impulse she ordered even more clothes and accessories online.

“Okay let's see what I haven’t tried on yet. Chaise pushed back their fresh locs, gathering them up into one hand and wrapping them securely with a pastel pink satin scrunchie.

After browsing through the large selection of clothes on the rack they decided on a pair of light washed overalls with cute patches and a cropped pastel pink, yellow, and blue striped sweater.

Meanwhile on the bed Wjian scrolled through her favorite clothing store’s app to buy even more clothes, this time for herself though.

Their was a family reunion coming up and they were going to be staying at a five star resort. It would be the first time Chaise would be seeing her in a swimsuit and it would be the first trip they’ll have gone on together. Even if her family was their; she had to make sure she had a cute bathing suit for every day of the week.

Wjian looked up from her phone to see Chaise slipping out of the pastel robot sweatshirt and light blue shorts they wore.

“Ooh I think I like this outfit the best! Really sexy amor~”

“Haha very funny,” Chaise said, jiggling their legs to get the overalls on. They slipped on the sweater and snapped the buckles before bussin’ out a few poses.

“So? Have I… Captivated you Mon Amour?”

“Yeah you’ve captured my heart.”

“Tell me more, I didn’t know I did that~” Chaise teased as they walked ever so closer to Wjian.

“You were already as pretty as can be, then you put on those clothes and your hotness has been elevated to new heights. My heart was pounding so hard it broke out of my chest so it could belong to you and only you~”

“How Poetic, but that sounds painful Mon tendre, are you alright, I wouldn’t want you to die because of me,” Chaise knelt in front of her on the bed, taking her hand in theirs and trailing kisses upwards.

“I’ll be fine, your beauty heals me,so keep it.” she shrugged

“alors je protégerai ton coeur pour toujours” he planted a kiss on her knuckles.

“You better”

“Do I really look that splendid, Mon étoile?”

“Why of course. You really do look good in those clothes, but you would look even better on top of me,” Wjian smiled

“Oh. If you wanted me that’s all you had to say. I should’ve known a cockwhore like you only wanted one thing.” Wjian giggled, wrapping her arms around Chaise’s neck as she leaned in for a kiss.

Pulling each other to deepen their embrace; chests pushed against one another as they kissed. Wjian’s heartbeat sang at a fast paced rhythm as she slid under Chaise’s body. He leaned over her kissing between her lips and jaw.

Wjian let out a pleasant sigh as she enjoyed the feeling of him actually touching her and pressing on her skin. Chaise ran their fingers across her stomach then stopped to rest at her waist.

Chaise started to trail themself down her neck, switching spots on her with open mouth kisses. He licked a long strive along her collarbone. Making Wjian shiver and wiggle closer to him. She pushed her legs together for some friction but Chaise pulled her legs apart and placed himself in between her.

“You’ll get to feel good when I let you feel good. C'est compris!” He bit down on her shoulder, leaving a faint forming mark. She nodded slowly while trying to keep herself from pressing her legs around him.

Wjian trailed her fingers on Chaise’s smooth skin as he marked her upper chest. His once coolish skin had a slowly growing warmth.

“mmHm…” Wjian let out a faint whimper as she craved more action; lightly tugging at his arm to her chest.

“What, does my Salope want more attention than what I am giving her?” He gropes at her breast, making her arch into his touch. He moved his leg forward into her, making her squirm.

“If you don't say anything I'm going to keep doing what I want.” They removed their hand from her chest and smirked against her skin when she whined.

“Please, I want you…” Wjian whispered out in a shaky voice.

“What have I told you about not speaking up?” He scolded her and sat up off the bed and looked down at her.

“I want you to touch me, I want to feel you in ways I couldn't before!” Wjian half shouted her waterline glistened with specks of salty tears.

“que c'est chéri” he pulled her by the legs to the end of the bed. A smirk formed on his face as he crouched down between her thighs. Chaise kissed between her thighs trailing up to her waistband and sucking on her exposed midriff before they took the waistband of her leggings in between their teeth, pulling on it slowly.

Wjian struggled to hold in a giggle as Chaise waggled their eyebrows at her.

“Amor, come on you’ve gotten me all hot and bothered,” Wjian pouted.

“Good things come to those who are patient, Mon Chou,” Chaise smiled as they hooked their fingers on the inside of Wjian’s waistband before tugging them off and flinging them across the room.

Now in clear view Chaise could see Wjians soft pink panties. The material was sheer with little flowers embroidered and lace trim.

Chaise leaned forward trailing small kisses up her thigh then stopped to stare at Wjian as he teasingly smiled at her.

“You have a mischievous glint in your eyes. Why are you looking at me like that mi carino?” Wjian asked nervously, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Ma Cherie, your lustfulness always surprises me.” Wjian laughed nervously at Chaise’s comment as she rubbed her bare thighs together and turned her head to avoid his gaze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know you planned on getting some from the start, these aren’t the same panties you had on this morning; didja think I wouldn’t notice?” Chaise asked, a wide grin sitting on their face

“You- you must have seen wrong, I’ve had these panties on all day.”

“Okay! But remember bad girls get punished~”

He ran his flat tongue up at her through her panties. Swapping a small circle over her clit. Saliva making a quick mess of her lingerie bottoms. Chaise held on to Wjian’s legs to keep her from wiggling about. Wjian's head lolled back into the edge of the pillow. Just as she was fully enjoying the sensation of his tongue he pulled away.

“Eh- What? Hey~” Wjian whined, a pout forming on her face.

He let out a chuckle at the frazzled look she had when she looked down at him.

“You wanna Tell the truth now?”

“Fine, I changed them when you were charging earlier! I may have been on reddit and gotten a little horny; but like today is the perfect day for us to break in your robo-cock and I wanted to dress for the occasion.” Wjian let out with a huff, her hands making wild gestures as she talked.

“Good girl; see that wasn’t so hard was it, now it’s time to reward my cute little slut.” Chaise grinned before leaning back down to eye level with her soaking arousal.

They pulled off her lingerie bottoms with his fingers. Pressed himself fully between her legs again. He rolled his tongue over her entrance causing her to let out a small cry. He slurped up her juices making obscene squelching noises that filled the room and likely the rest of the house, luckily they were home alone.

“A-aah Fuck that feels so good,” Wjian moaned, her thighs clamping around Chaise’s head.

“Divin goût ” Chaise groaned against her warm cunt, making her whole body shiver with ecstasy.

He sucked on her clit making mini shapes in his mouth as he did. Wjian made short high pitched moans as she pulled Chaise closer to her cunt. Her fingers tangled in between his locs, wrapping her legs around his head. He slid his finger into her soaking pussy slowly pushing the digit along her walls.

“More~”

“More what?” Chaise asked, pulling their finger out and brushing it up and down against her entrance.

“More fingers, please, mi corazon?”

“That’s a good little whore. I suppose so since you asked so sweetly.

They added another finger into her weeping heat and swirled his tongue in mixes with in hand movements. Wjian’s body began to tremble as she got closer to her climax.

His movements slowed down to almost stopping as he felt her tighten around his fingers resulting in a breathy whine. His eyes met with Wjian’s teary ones as she huffed out a half sob.

“I could use a bit of motivation chérie”

“Please…” she pants out.

“You gotta be more convincing than that.” he speeds up for a moment then stops completely.

“Please, Déjame terminar please i'll be good…lo juro!” she begs out to them.

“c'est mieux” he kissed her inner thigh before diving back into her cunt. Moving his fingers in rhythm of his tasting her folds making Wjian’s toes curl. Her thighs began to shake in wanton as she tried to hold back a scream.

“Don't hold back, let go.” Their voice slurred as he mumbled against her skin. He then made work getting her to finish.

“NaAhaA~” Wjian legged locked around Chaise as he nibbled on her clit. He pulled his fingers out and solely used his tongue to get her off. He placed his hand to pry open her shaking legs from around his neck. His tongue lapped across her wanting hole. Wjian felt like she was seeing stars as her whole body was hot. His tongue didn’t stop until he felt like he had thoroughly got the essence of Wjian’s juices. He only pulled back when she whined about being overstimulated. Real shame, chaise thought that she could have lasted at least two more times before getting to the main event.

Chaise pulled leisurely away, the sweet taste of Wjian lingering on his artificial taste buds. He messaged her spazzing thighs as she calmed down from her high.

“To think you were practically begging for it and you’re crying about being overstimulated, how pathetic.”

“It's your fault, you were edging me!” she pushed on his shoulder with her foot. Trying to make him stumble…it didn't work. He tighten his grip as warning but she just squirmed more even letting out a giggle as if she was challenging him.

“Oh~ keep acting like that and I'll have to put you in your place, Morveuse.” He grabs her by said foot and yanks her to meet his waist. Tracing up from her foot to grab the pillow-like fat on her thighs.

Chaise pushed wjian’s legs apart and put themself in between her. He unclipped his overalls so he could strip off the multi-color sweater and let it fall to the floor.

Wjian sat up to gain a closer look, this would be the first time seeing Chaise’s “meat thermometer” for her, they had specifically hid it from view whenever she tried to take a peek; even while testing their water lock feature in the shower Chaise covered themselves with a washcloth.

“If you’re gonna be all up on it might as well suck me off,”

“… Y-eah yeah,” Wjian said slowly, her eyes entranced by the large bulge in Chaise’s Savage X Fenty “Rebel Cherub Lace Boxers” in shade “Black Caviar”.

Wjian reached her hands up and snaked them around Chaise waist; the gentle caresses sent a chill up Chaise’s metal alloy vertebrate. Finally she pulled them down, allowing for the smooth cotton body fabric to pool around their ankles.

She runs her thumb over the length of their shift, faintly feeling him twitch. Circling the tip with her index finger to play with the strings of precum.

“There’s a surprise waiting for you at the end of the rainbow.”

Her eyes light up at the mention of a surprise and without hesitation or thought she takes his taint in her mouth. Wrapping her tongue his head.

Chaise leans over her in shock, accidentally pushing himself deeper down her mouth. They let out a loud groan that almost sounded like it was distorted. Wjian moans around him at the sensation of his long schlong tickling her throat. Saliva dripped down her chin, while she looked up at him with lidded eyes as she awaited for him to move in her mouth.

“Merde- mhm That's not what I meant ange…” He panted out; whipping away the drool that slipped out from her mouth. He looked away from her to regain their composure.

“Just forget it, the mystery mousekatool is a surprise tool for later.”

“Awhfw” she pouted around him causing him to let out a small whimper. He pulled himself out of her mouth with a pop, his dick falling on the side of her face, faintly slapping her cheek.

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” she pants out.

On the nightstand, Chaise’s phone rings cutting off what they were going to say, Walking over Chaise picked up much to Wjian’s dismay as she whined and scooted closer to him.

“Favorite Son-in-Law!” The voice came ringing through the phone. Wjian stared at Chaise while they paced around the room.

“Hello ma'am, everything alright?” Chaise walked farther back so Wjian can no longer hear her mother on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah I can go get it.” Chaise began putting clothes on and Wjian looked at him wide eyed. He got fully dressed and put the phone in his pocket.

“What are you doing, Where are you going?” She jumped up but was quickly told to sit down.

“Gotta go out and get something.” They opened one of Wjian’s drawers and pulled a vibrator and stood in front of her.

He grabbed her legs and parted them and slowly pushed the toy into her. She let out a groan as she tilted her head back. Pushing their thumb on the toy it started to vibrate causing Wjian to shiver.

“écoute chérie, I'm going to step out for a moment so I need you to be the good girl I know you are and try not to cum until I get back.” he grabbed one of the pieces of fabric that was on the floor and wrapped it around her hands behind her making sure it’s tight enough so she can’t tug it out.

Chaise gets up, patting her head then walking to the door.

“Also, don't touch yourself either, not like you can like that.” He smirked; walking out of the room then out of the house.

Wjian flopped back onto the bed and pushed her legs together. A sheen of sweat began to form over her body. Her mind was fuzzy and she felt like she wasn’t in control of her body. The thing is she wasn’t in control and she loved it? Hated it?

Whimpering and squirming around on her bed as she forces her composer into submission so she doesn't cum.

Wjian POV

My body was hot to the touch, my legs were quivering but felt numb at the same time. I am trying every possibility to kill my libido but the constant swapping vibration between my legs is making it impossible. Where did Chaise go, why did he leave me like this and how much longer until They come back. What's going to happen if i cum before he gets back. I shiver at the thought of having to be punished because I couldn’t keep my own body in check.

The vibrator has been swapping between intensities ever since Chaise had left and I didn't realize what setting it was going to be on, until it was too late and the vibrations were on ten.

It would start at one then go to five then back to one before skyrocketing to ten and ending on a random number until it repeats. I count the levels in order to keep my fleeting sanity.

One, five, one, ten, one, eight, one, five, one, Ten, one, Three, one, five, one, ten, one, one, one, five, one, ten…

My mindless muttering is the only thing I can hear as I try to keep up with the switching levels of my toy. I shifted my position which turned out to be the greatest worst decision I could have made. My shift in positioning only served to push the toy deeper inside my drippy cunt.

“Ah~” I tense up all over and I don't know if I can last another second. My blanket was sticking to my wet skin, I pressed my eyes shut and squeezed them tight as I reached a scaling breaking point.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, my whimpers filling the room; or maybe I was already crying and if that's the case I have no clue when it started. Whimpering out at random while I reach the closest version of calm could.

“Agradar,PleasepleasepleasePlease.” I beg out to no one, or maybe I'm hoping Chaise will hear me from wherever the hell they have left me to.

I’m sniffling around my tears. I think I'm going to pass out, my vision is getting slightly spotty. I whisper out random pleas or levels from the vibrator.

“I'm back!” The sound of my Savior devil walked into the house. Or I could be hallucinating the sound of their voice as I lose consciousness.

“Oh dear~” the sound of Chaise cooing at my slumping form.

Third Pov

Chaise untied Wjian’s arms and gently pulled out vibrator causing her to cry out and regain her senses. He heard her murmuring number patterns like it was her lifeline. Her legs were pretty much quaking in his hands.

He began caressing her skin, soothing the muscles of her thighs. She held her arms around him giving their neck weak kisses.

“You're absolutely soaking chère” he kissed her cheek and moved a thumb to her clit, stroking gentle half circles.

Wjian bucked her hips into his touch with a shrill.

“je vais te baiser, miellat you think you can handle that?” He kissed her jaw and neck waiting for her answer.

“Please…” wrapping her hands around his neck so she could so she can choke him pull him closer to herself.

Chaise leaned in to Wjian, pulling her closer into her and pressed a slow deep kiss before trailing down her jaw and neck, peppering kisses.

Wjian let out a whiney moan moving her hand to caress his skin. Chaise ran his tongue along her neck and ended the trail with nibbling on her ear.

“Are you fully conscious and ready to go now?” They whispered into Wjian’s ear.

“I was ready before you up and left me.” she wiggles under him, pressing her knee into their thigh; egging him on to do something other than kiss and massage her, not that she minds that she just wants more, needs it even.

“I bet you were but I promise that you'll enjoy what I got later.” He situated himself fully above her so he looked down at her, smirking.

“I better…” She looks away from him only to become startled when he parts her legs.

Chaise gives a satisfied hum at the look of his lover’s cunt to be still soaking. Swapping a finger over her to test her sensitivity. Deciding that she was on edge due to her whining he strips out of his clothes again and discarded them.

“Watch it! I could leave again if you want.” he slowly started to get up but she made a quick grab to stop him.

“That’s what I thought.” he pulled her to him; there hips colliding into each other. Squeezing the fluff of her thighs then put them around his waist.

Grabbing his dick in one hand, lubing his length with Wjian’s juices; collecting the glistening moisture by rubbing the tip in circles on her bajingo. They pushed the head of their dick into her with zero resistance making them both moan. Chaise bottomed out into Wjian. A sheen of sweat formed on Wjian’s forehead as she got used to the feeling of Chaise’s large size.

He was bigger and thicker than all the toys Wjian had. Her walls stretched to accommodate him. He planted light kisses on her skin as he waited for her go ahead. When she nods and tightens her hold on his arms, he smiles down at her.

He rolls his hips into her, offering Wjian playful shallow thrusts. She let out a faint sigh; wrapping her legs around their hips to push them deeper. Chaise continued to slowly roll into Wjian testing her waning patience with him.

“This feels nice and all but can you go faster?”

“Of course.” Chaise spoke through his cheeky smile.

He quickened his pace but kept to the shallow thrust. Swaying his waist at an even pace that made Wjian let out groans. Rocking into her with an unbothered haste that made his arms flex a bit. They leaned into one another for a kiss that gradually started getting sloppy.

Chaise leaned into Wjian’s chest and popped a titty in his mouth; sucking on her nipple between his teeth then going to the other and doing the same. Causing her to let out a surprised moan. She arched her back off the bed a little to meet his mouth.

Chaise pulled out, unlocking her legs from around him. Before Wjian could furrow her brows and complain she was being flipped over onto her stomach. Yanking her thighs to meet his own, pulling her into an arch.

Lining up with her again, working into her with stable thrust. She shivers in anticipation as his strokes built strength. Exchanging his once fast pace for more harder, focused movements that hit deep in her just right.

She lets out a loud moan when he angles his hips to hit her G-spot, killing the scratching want that was crawling about her body. He kept ramming into her at the same angle to draw out the same passionate shrills.

He traced his hand on her body: rubbing up her ass, squeezing the soft flesh, then holding in place with her hips, to her chest playing with them both in his smooth hand, pulling her back into him by the shoulder and finding a resting place at her neck.

“Ah~” They pulled her up into him.

“tu aimes cette salope” locking an arm around Wjian and gently squeezing the hand around her neck. Thrusting up into her with wanton that makes them both groan.

“Yes!” Wjian’s legs shook as the core winded tighter and tighter. “Sho~ good,” Wjian moaned out, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“Well I got something even better.” Chaise grinned deviously, a chill rain down Wjian’s spine; wetness pooled around Chaise’s disco stick and Wjian’s hips bucked closer to them. She was desperate for any kind of friction.

Chaise's heavy cock dragged slowly out of her and before Wjian could let out any sort of whine or complain Chaise pressed a finger to her plush lips.

Chaise sat down on the bed, his legs wide open.”And here we are, the grand surprise,”

“That your dick has LEDs?” Wjian asked with wide eyes.

“Wha- no you filled out my order request form why would you think that? I mean this!” Chaise grabbed Wjian’s hand guiding it to between their legs and behind their balls, was a familiar wetness.

“Is this…”

“A pussy, yeah,”

Without any hesitation Wjian leaned towards Chaise, diving head first into their drippy inviting cunt.

“AH- fuck you greedy slut~”

Wjian lapped at the gooey folds of Chaise’s muff. Chaise let out breathy moans as their fingers roughly grabbed Wjian’s blonde locks. She uttered a moan worthy of being on porn hub.

Chaise’s thighs clenched around Wjian’s head;the feeling that came from a clitoral orgasm was much different than what Chaise was usually used to. A clit was much more sensitive than a peen after all. The coil tightening deep in their core; winding and winding and winding; ready to snap at any given moment.

“Shi-shit~” Chaise cried out as Wjian slipped two fingers into Chaise’s yes yes square (you see it’s not a no no square cause consent is key!) Wjian scissored her fingers, trying to loosen the tight gummy walls of Chaise’s vagina.

Wjian was on a mission and by the sudden moan and their back arching off the bed, Wjian had completed it. She had found Chaise’s g-spot

“That feel good, amor?” Wjian asked curling her fingers to continuously caress against Chaise’s sweet spot, whilst simultaneously sucking his clit.

“Yes yes yesss! Ohmygosh keep going!”

Chaise’s head lolled back;their locs swaying with the lash of his movements. Closing his eyes and letting out a shocking shrill that startled Wjian while she worked them through the new version of a high. Leaving him panting and blurry eyed for a moment. After Chaise came…down from their senses Wjian pulled away licking her lips with a pleased smirk.

They pause for a moment, heartbeats matching into rhythmic pace. Wjian moved to rub Chaise’s back as their breathing returned to normal. Chaise leaned over to place a slow, tender kiss on her lips.

Lining up with Wjian’s suffocatingly tight, warm, cozy, wet, welcoming tasty, not to mention torentally downpouringly wet, friendly, adorable, delicious, wet, open and experienced yet closed and selective, fun loving, needy(but also very generous), large and in charge - but at the same time small and timid, independent but also very codependent, womanly- yet strong, wet, soaking honeypot(wet pussy!).

Chaise dived right into her dangerous and sexy ocean. Most men(women and enbies also) would drown in the sea of pleasure that was Wjian’s model type money making penis pocket but not Chaise. If Wjian was the wide and wondrous Caribbean then Chaise’s taint was the Wonder of the Seas Royal Caribbean International Cruise, large and in charge of her metaphorical dangerous waters.

Wjian let out a chorus of wanton moans as Chaise’s hips snapped against her ass cheeks, filling the room with lewd noises.

“Hah- time to kick it into maximum overdrive,” Chaise said.

At their words Wjian was struck with confusion but it quickly became apparent by the overwhelming pleasure.

It was vibrating. Chaise’s dick…

…Was Vibrating.

“Ah- FUCK!” Wjian exclaimed in confusion as her mind tried to comprehend the faint aggression of humbuzz that was now Chaise’s dick.

Chaise wrapped his arms around Wjian’s waist and flipped her around with precision and expertise. It all happened so quickly Wjian could barely comprehend it as she went from backshots to cowgirl.

“You handle me so well Amour,I could never get tired of this~”

“Oh dios, Ay dios mío!” she grabbed a hold of the arms that were wrapped around her. Chaise jackhammered into Wjian’s squelching cunt, her legs shaking as she struggled to hold herself up.

“Merde I’m so close,” Chaise groaned.

“Come inside! I need your cum all inside my pussy!” Wjian proclaimed her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

“Oh~” Wjian's toes curled and she closed her eyes in an effort to savor her climbing climax that was falling into her grasp at a harsh velocity.

As waves of euphoria washed over Wjian, Chaise’s hips slowed and stuttered unevenly. Sticky white hot ropes of cum shoot into Wjian’s meat muffler. It was exactly what the slut ordered.

“I'm proud of you, you lasted longer than I thought.”

Chaise pulled out, sighing in deep satisfaction. Wjian laid on their chest, gently kissing their jaw before turning her head back to a comfortable resting position and taking in their body heat.

The familiar white viscous dripped down her thighs. They both smiled with a sigh and sweat fell from her pores. While they could've turned off the seminal ejaculation, Wjian said it would be fine, because like any good slut, she loved a good creampie.

While yes she might’ve been sticky from sweat and cum and all types of other love juices; and while yes her legs and back would be severely sore in the morning, this is what she had longed for; What they both longed for.

The gentle skinship, the tender kisses, the loving caresses; and yes there were certain things that weren’t possible for the two of them, they could work around it, because now they really have time.

Chaise was here to stay, and so was this relationship. Wjian was a gay ass gamer and Chaise, who has been her gay ass gamer chair, got a little bit gayer.

NOTES: We, Mind of the Hive One, Eseni Azuly, were given too much creative liberty by our co-author and do not apologize for the unhingedness of this story, it is a crack fic after all.

I am only half sorry. -Mind of the hive Two

So Darling Worker Bees, I hope you enjoyed the Gaymer Chair! If you did like this then we have other stories coming to Tumblr soon that are similar to this as well as some other projects in the works to stay tuned and tell all your deviant friends!

If you speak French or Spanish we the Anomaly Hivemind are so sorry for the translations if they are wrong, we do not speak those languages

Translations

French

Mon Chou- sweetie

Mon tendre- my sweet

Mon Ange- My Angel

Mon Cher- my dear

Mon Amour- my love

Mon étoile- My Star

Oui- Yes

Amour- love

alors je protégerai ton coeur pour toujours- then i'll protect your heart forever.

C'est compris- its understand

Salope- slut

Chérie- dear

que c'est chéri- what’s that darling

Divin goût - taste divine

c'est mieux- its better

Merde- shit/fuck

écoute chérie- listen honey

tu aimes cette salope- you like that slut

Ma Cherie- my dear

Spanish

Mi Tesoro- my treasure

Querido- my love

Amor- love

mi carino- my sweet

mi corazon- my heart

Déjame terminar- let me finish

lo juro- i swear

Agradar-please

Ay dios mío- oh lord

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nizzysam · 2 years ago

Text

The Bear And The Fire

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Micah Bell/Arthur Morgan

Tags: Angst and Porn, Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Hate Sex, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, No Aftercare, First Time

Summary: Micah is taking up woodcarving and has no intention of arguing today. Arthur, on the other hand, has an overwhelming urge to tease him until Micah can't take it anymore. Or, Micah finds out why Arthur is so het up that evening.

Snippet: Since Micah did not take it on his initiative, Arthur walked over and slammed it against his chest. Then Micah took it and their hands brushed against each other. Arthur was warm, the figurine a little damp.

AO3 Link - or read under the cut!

Micah was sitting around the campfire. In front of him, Reverend Swanson swallowed beer after beer and stared into the flames. Being anywhere near the Reverend sickened him. Micah hated the idle and the weak. And Swanson was both of those things. This time he decided he was not going to broach an argument. Judging by Swanson's bewildered look, he wasn't likely to get a response. There would have been little to no fun in that game, as he leaned when he kicked his unconscious, religious ass awake. And he surely didn’t want Miss Grimshaw yelling at him.

Besides, Micah had other things to do. He had been busy carving wood for a few hours, an art requiring patience and precision. Now twisting the piece of wood in his hands, Micah was carefully scanning each screwing craved with his knife. Under the firelight, he gave a couple more touches and added some detail to the sculpture.

"After you, that's the ugliest pig I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Very funny, Morgan. It's a bear."

“That ain’t a bear.”

“I made it. It’s a bear.”

“Bet you saw a giant pig and thought that was it.”

“Oh, you’re a comedian now.”

Arthur sat next to him, close enough to brush against his knee. Then he reached further and grabbed the figurine. It was so unexpected that Micah did not have time to react. Arthur Morgan had snatched the bear figurine from his hands and was now looking at it with an unimpressed look.

“You forgot the teeth, idiot.”

Micah shifted his gaze from Arthur's profile to the statuette. There was something wrong with it, and he finally realized what it was. The only problem was that Arthur had pointed it out. He clicked his tongue and took the bear back.

“It ain’t finished.”

Lips tightly pursed, Micah tried to carve out the bear's fangs. He could feel Arthur's gaze on him and it was unnerving. He tried giving him a couple of dirty looks in the hopes Arthur would receive the message. On the third glance, he lost his patience. Micah straightened himself up and looked at Arthur in a quiet but aggressive plea to stop staring.

"I'm just teasing you," Arthur said, hitting Micah's knee with his own.

At that moment Micah realized how close the other man was to him. Many questions swirled in his head, but he ignored them all. Arthur was obviously in the mood to rile him up.

"I don't like people this close to me."

"You like ‘em closer?"

“What are you trying to do here?”

“I want to see how you finish the… bear.”

The way Arthur pronounced the last word had him rolling his eyes. He inhaled noisily and turned his head to look at Arthur once more. That night Micah decided he wanted to be by himself. He didn't want to argue with anyone, hell, he barely wanted to talk at all. But Morgan decided that night was the night to tease him. His bad for sitting around the main campfire.

Micah stood up in silence and walked to the fire on the other side of the camp. He gained twenty minutes of peace, which he devoted to carving the fangs and adding details of the fur, nose, and claws. It looked like a bear through and through. Morgan was just trying to rattle him. That was a full-fledged bear!

"Look here."

"Why do you have to sneak up on people like that?"

"Look."

Arthur was standing behind him, holding his journal open on a yellowed page with a drawing of a bear. Micah stared at it, sitting still, clutching his figurine in his hands. It was the most beautiful drawing he had ever seen. Sure, he hadn't seen many, but Morgan's was definitely one of the best.

"Well. That's... good."

Arthur closed the journal but kept standing behind him. What did he want? Micah told him what he wanted to hear, so why didn't he leave?

Arthur had walked all the way up there to show him that drawing to prove himself superior even in that respect. Micah realized he was clutching the figurine so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

"What is it, Morgan?" his tone was a grunt. Micah was losing his patience.

"Nothing. Just wanted to show you what a bear looks like."

Micah tried to get up from the chair but Arthur's heavy hand held him down. He felt the grip on his shoulder tighten and push him back into his seat. Then Arthur hunched over, his face close to Micah's ear.

"Just tryin’ to help."

“The hell with you, Morgan!”

“Alright, calm down. I’m done now. C’mon, show me the bear.”

“Go bother someone else. Not in the mood today.”

“I said I’m done.”

“Yeah, me too.”

By now Micah's breathing had quickened and Arthur's hand was still resting on his shoulder. He had had enough. If Arthur wanted to see the figurine so badly, he could watch it burn.

In one movement he freed himself from Arthur's grasp and threw the figurine into the fire.

"All yours," he said as he looked into the flames. He walked away, laughing to himself—an empty imitation of a laugh.

He couldn't have anything. Not a minute's respite, not a win, nothing. He went to sit under the broken chuck wagon at the end of the camp. There, nobody would bother him. The trees moved their leaves against the cool evening wind. A trickle of moonlight illuminated them enough to make out their branches.

Arthur was probably annoyed now that he could no longer mock him. Good. Micah found himself mulling over the figurine. He had worked on it for hours and now it was ashes. Foolish.

He sighed, both arms on his knees, and began fiddling with the carving knife, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. Several minutes passed in silence.

“Plenty of room somewhere else.”

He heard footsteps coming up behind him, and without turning around or looking away from that something in the distance, he invited whoever was approaching to go back the way they came.

“Bears are tough animals, y’know.”

To hell with his promise not to start fights. To hell with keeping to himself. Screw all of it. Morgan wanted a fight? Fine. He was going to give him what he was asking for.

Micah stood up, knife in hand. He was face to face with the other man, a few steps separating them. Built-up anger was boiling inside Micah, about to explode. It was clear from his tense shoulders and piercing gaze.

Arthur stood in front of him, holding something at stomach height. He stood there watching the blond man. Micah had left his white hat on the ground and now his hair fell tousled on his shoulders. Messier than usual, Arthur noticed. He took a step.

"You think you're really something, don't you? How about I show you how well I can carve?"

"Put the knife away, you ain't impressing no one. Here."

Arthur extended his arm. In his hand the charred figurine. Micah's shoulders relaxed and his brow furrowed. He was never going to understand what was going on in Morgan's head.

Micah did not take the figurine; he merely observed it. Then he looked at Arthur. "What are you playing at?"

"I may have taken it too far."

Micah looked away and snorted. He did not like the situation. Arthur was up to something, and he knew that whatever it was, it would not end well.

"What. Do you. Want," Micah was not yelling, but almost. It wouldn't be long before rage would set in.

Seeing the figurine he had spent hours on in that state drove him to his breaking point.

"Just trying to make amends. It looks more like a black bear now, huh?"

“Oh, so now it looks like a bear.”

“Take it.”

Since Micah did not take it on his initiative, Arthur walked over and slammed it against his chest. Then Micah took it and their hands brushed against each other. Arthur was warm, the figurine a little damp.

“Put a hand in the fire for me, Morgan?”

“I right my wrongs.”

“Here he is, high and mighty Morgan. You ain’t getting a reward. Get lost.”

But Arthur did not move. He kept looking at him. There was now only an arm's length between them. A small twitch flashed on Arthur's face. Micah knew it wasn't over.

"I've wrapped it in a wet towel so you don't burn your little fingers," he said as he slowly drew closer to the blond.

Micah held his position and reacted to the provocation by maintaining eye contact with the most menacing expression he had. He still had the figurine pressed on his chest and Morgan's hand holding it steady.

"I've burned mine. Can you feel it?"

Micah could feel it. Arthur's fingers rubbed lightly against his and went to rest on his chest. The contact was light and softened by the shirt, but Micah was very aware of the heat coming off them. He felt tingling where Arthur was touching him. And that look, that slight lip twitch Arthur had inadvertently made… Micah knew that dance very well.

So that was it. Arthur Morgan was horny. Micah was familiar with the expressions of a horny man, and couldn't help but smirk.

"Just can't resist, can you?"

At that phrase, Arthur abandoned all traces of self-control and smiled back. He looked around, making sure there was no one nearby. Then he pushed the blond behind the chuck wagon so that they were conveniently hidden from the camp.

“I knew you was down for it.”

“I ain’t said nothing yet.”

“No need.”

Arthur placed the figurine in the chuck wagon. Now his hand was free to explore Micah's chest. He was apparently in no mood for foreplay and wasted no time in bringing his other hand to Micah's side to draw him closer for a kiss.

“Whoa, easy. I ain’t kissing you, cowpoke.”

“Just want me to fuck you, Mister Bell?”

“Now that ain’t nice, Morgan.”

“I’m gonna make it real nice.”

Now both of his hands gripped Micah's hips. In Arthur's voice, he could hear lust and urgency. Micah would not have allowed it so easily. Besides, his anger was still slowly turning into arousal. All that had happened because Arthur wanted to fuck him, and now there he was, touching him like a desperate man. It turned Micah on beyond belief.

“You was looking at me all this time, uh? Finally found the courage to admit it?”

“I’ve been wanting to teach you some manners for a while now. You’re gonna be real polite when I finish with you.”

Micah grabbed Arthur's collar and pulled him closer. Arthur let him, taking advantage of that move to sink his nails into the blond man's clothed hips and press himself against him.

Micah lost track of what he was going to say. He could feel Arthur's cock against his own.

"You ain't man enough for that."

Instead of kissing him, Arthur ran his thumb over Micah's lips. Without breaking eye contact, Micah welcomed the finger into his mouth and licked it slowly. Then Arthur offered him his index and middle fingers, and Micah licked them both greedily, taking them as deep as Arthur wanted.

Arthur was hard, harder than Micah. His eyes struggled to stay fully open. The man was under his control, literally hanging on his lips. Micah wanted to know how Arthur would react if he moaned as he sucked on his fingers.

Then Arthur pushed both fingers further in and Micah moaned. As a response, Arthur groaned and began rubbing himself against Micah. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and grabbed his jaw, still grinding against him.

“You gonna come in your pants, cowpoke?”

“Maybe if I come in your mouth you’ll shut up.”

“Not a chance.”

“In that case…”

Micah found himself bent over the wagon, Arthur behind him clutching his ass. He rested on his elbows and turned to look at Arthur. The man behind him had his lips curled forward, one hand on his crotch and one on Micah's ass.

When Arthur's thumb pressed down on his opening, Micah flinched away at the sudden sensation and then pushed back against the finger. A wave of arousal swept over him. He did not believe he was bent over in front of Arthur Morgan.

“If only I knew you were such a slut I would have fucked you earlier.”

“Careful. I ain’t forget about the bear.”

“Get out of these damn pants.”

“I ain’t even that horny yet. Do something about it.”

Arthur slapped his ass loudly and then slid his hand between his legs, slowly moving from his opening to his shaft, dwelling on that sensitive area just below his hole. Micah closed his eyes and moaned quietly, muffling that moan so Arthur wouldn't hear. But his reaction was well evident by how hard he had become after just a few seconds.

Arthur laughed mischievously and began stroking him over his clothes. Micah was still bent over in front of him, his legs slightly open to allow his hand to slip between his thighs. In the meantime, Arthur pulled his cock out of his pants and jerked with the same rhythm at which he was touching Micah.

Micah stood up, turned around, and took to unbuttoning his pants. Unlike Arthur, he lowered his pants completely. They jerked off looking at each other. Micah gave long quick strokes while Arthur went slower and focused on the tip.

Micah's head was empty. The anger was fully transformed into blind, greedy lust. When Arthur reached down and took both of their cocks in his hand, Micah closed his eyes and let his head fall back. The friction was painful but did not last long.

He felt Arthur's saliva dripping down on their tips. The sensation was so strong he had to hold onto the wagon. Micah began thrusting against Arthur, and their moans grew louder.

“How do you like it?” Arthur asked resting his head against Micah's forehead as he continued to stroke both of them, now slower.

“Fast and rough,” Micah replied in a throaty voice, his mouth open from pleasure.

“I knew it.”

Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss him and Micah didn't object, responding with the same urgency. They kissed until they had to break away to catch their breath. At which point Micah turned, bent over, and spread his legs.

Arthur's finger was still wet with saliva and he took to teasing Micah's opening. The index finger slipped in effortlessly. Micah was already open and ready for a second finger, but Arthur decided to make him suffer some more.

"Oh shit, Arthur-"

Micah moved against the finger but needed more, needed to feel the full pressure of Arthur's cock inside him. One finger was never going to be enough.

Arthur spat and saliva dripped down on Micah's ass, making it easier to insert the second finger. He finger-fucked him deeper and deeper, then picked up speed.

"You're taking it so well. Such a slut."

“Right your wrongs, Morgan.”

Arthur spat on his palm and lubed his cock with it, lined up against Micah’s opening, and started pushing himself in. The moans that came out of Micah's mouth would have been obscene if only he had not muffled them with his hand. They could not be heard and it was so hard to be silent.

Micah dropped his head on his folded arms and bit his hand to keep any moans from escaping. Behind him, Arthur was still pushing his full length into him. He held him firmly by the hips. Arthur was so hard inside him, so deep. And Micah was so tight and warm.

When Arthur was completely inside him, Micah began to move slowly. And Arthur lost his mind. He wanted to fuck Micah for a long time, to put him in his place, under him. He did not think it was possible to get any harder than this, but his cock proved him wrong. Micah noticed it too and chuckled but he soon stopped when Arthur began to fuck him hard and slow, nearly pulling out completely and then pushing in all the way to the base of the shaft.

He hit that sweet spot over and over, forcing Micah to grab his cock and stroke it to relieve all that build-up arousal. Arthur never thought it would be this thrilling. He could barely think.

Excitement took over as Arthur leaned over Micah and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him against his chest. His lips were pressed against the blond's ear.

Arthur's breath crept into Micah's ear sending waves of uncontainable pleasure down his back. He would not last long, he was so close. Micah began jerking faster.

"Fast and rough, huh?" Arthur whispered in his ear.

Arthur took to fucking him just as Micah likes, one hand holding him by the throat and the other on his hip. The sound of Micah's ass on his cock was loud. He was sure someone would hear them, but he didn't care.

“Look at me.”

Micah turned his head as far as he could and looked at him. Arthur was sweating, pushing himself into him with his mouth open, licking his lips from time to time. He looked like an animal. He was so horny. Soon Micah came profusely in his fist, grunting and watching Arthur fuck him. It wasn't long before Arthur came inside him in a painful thrust. He kept moving inside Micah until the wave of the orgasm had worn off.

Arthur leaned closer to Micah, his chest on the blond man's back. “Still mad at me?”, he chuckled against his ear.

“Who’s there?”

A voice came from ahead, chilling both of their spines. Fortunately, the chuck wagon covered them.

“Don’t move,” he whispered in Micah’s ear before lifting his head. “Just me. Everything’s fine, John.”

“You sure? I heard-”

“Move along,” this time Arthur shouted. Admittedly, he was worried John wouldn't listen. Hell, he was still buried inside Micah. And there was something thrilling about the possibility of being discovered.

"Alright, I'm going."

When they were both sure John had left, Arthur pulled out of Micah and adjusted himself. Micah pulled up his pants. Soon, they were both good to go. They looked at each other and found absolutely nothing to say. It was awkward. More for Arthur as Micah wasn't used to speaking at all after sex.

"So," Arthur started.

"Not a word. I know."

"No, it's... You know what? Yeah. Not a word."

"Bye now, Morgan."

As is often the case, the excitement of it all faded as quickly as it came. Micah found himself alone with his now-burnt figurine, as he had intended for the evening. He smiled at the new advantage he gained over Morgan. He was planning to use it, from time to time.

#morbell #micah bell #arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #fanfiction #rdr2 fanfiction #smut #nsft #mdni #angst and smut #hate sex #if you read this only to comment your stupid ass opinion I'm just gonna delete the comment this time #nizzyfic

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