#man it's fun to dig all these up it's been a while for some of them

[miss-tarja]

Like a Fine Wine

Younger! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Mommy! Reader

WARNINGS: Transactional relationship at the begining, smut, protected p in v, fluff, emotional distress, no strings attached to catching feelings type of thing. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: This is @tatatida raffle event prize <3. Got her permission to post it. Hope you guys like it as mucha as I did writing it :D. So fun to write again!

If there was one thing you hated more than wires in your bra, poking out and digging into your skin was precisely this. Social gatherings with loud music after a long day, that somehow were a must to keep up the appearances within your collaborators and clients.

And the cherry on top besides this, were two little details that had ruined your overall mood and will to believe in such a thing the soon-to-be wedded couple favored.

To starters, the man whom you thought would be that exact same guy with a goofy and moonstruck smile, kneeling before the woman as he proposed to her, not only broke up with you a week ago, right before this party, but also broke the three month engagement you had agreed and partook in, and the urge to make an engagement party after a couple of years dating. 

He cut all ties with your persona and everything that rendered your existence and what you had to offer. And the second bitter cherry, you were selected to make the brides dream come true by not only designing her wedding dress, but her bridesmaids too. 

Oh, how much fun you've been having by designing your own wedding dress. A design that somehow ended up in the bride's main picks. For once you hated your job and everything that came with it. Happy and excited faces, I do's here and there whenever the brides were grateful and went beyond to invite a top tier Haute Couture and lingerie designer like yourself to the ceremony. 

The excitement you'd never get... 

A defeated sigh escaped your lips for the umpteenth time and absentmindedly snatched your third champagne cup from a nearby waiter. Marriage was overrated anyway and the stress had been nicking enough of your nerves. You needed out. 

The mellow, sickly sweet and romantic music had been a bit too much for your ears, same for the laughs and fun and frankly, you hadn't left because the bride wanted some adjustments in her request, but you didn't have the heart to be a wet blanket over her happiness and pollute her joy with your own heartbreak and mood swings. So you waited, and waited and-

"Should I call you a cab?" The waiter's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Rich, deep and oh so exquisite that sent a jolt directly to your spine the emotional discomfort brewing in. 

Oh boy... 

The man before you, clad in white and black was everything but that. A boy, as you usually saw younger men. The white button chemise made a wondrous job in containing his well worked arms that moved effectively while delivering drinks and his chest, puffing with the constant beating of his heartbeats and breathings. Your eyes couldn't help but wander from his gorgeous and cryptic, stoic face, to the narrow and perfectly sculpted waist. 

My goodness...

"... Ma'am?" He chuckled a tad uncomfortable yet used to the looks his appearances provoked. Your eyes casted away, embarrassed for being not so discreet in your ogling. 

"Uh...  no. Sorry. I'm waiting for the bride to finish some stuff. Could you be so kind to fetch me a rose soda, please?" 

"Of course. Anything else?" 

"Just that for the meantime, thank you." 

His red eyes blinked slowly, absorbing your order as he retired your nearly empty champagne cup from the table. 

"I'll be right back." The handsome man spoke and you just nodded with a brief smile before he scrammed off to the drink station not too far away from your spot.

"Seems you caught her eye." One of his coworkers, Harry, spoke with a smile that hinted at nothing but trouble , pointing discreetly your way. 

"Doubt it. She was getting drunk, looking lonely and a bit miserable, probably not having a good time." He huffed, preparing the golden rimmed and fancy glass with ice. 

"C'mon, Migs. I know it's bad to just jump into women like vultures when they're going through vulnerable stuff, but hey, think of it this way." Harry hugged his neck, pulling him closer, "You'll give her a good time to forget whatever thing has gotten her like that." Miguel rolled his eyes. Of course Harry wouldn't pass the opportunity to jump in whatever chance that got him laid. "And, just look at her!" 

Harry nearly groaned after stealing another glance your way. 

"Harry..." Miguel warned, already knowing where the conversation was leading to. 

"C'mon, man. She was staring at you like she would eat you in the spot! Wished women looked at me like that."

"They would, if you weren't a creep about it. Are you even hearing yourself?" His bushy brow quivered and his eyes rolled. "Just get me a rose soda."

"I'm not a creep, O'Hara. And that shit's disgusting, don't know why, it's so freaking sweet and awful but rich people drink it like no tomorrow. But!" He pushed Miguel with his elbow softly, "That only means she must be stacked up in money too." He mumbled while handing him a golden and pink can along a straw. 

"Of course she is. From what I gathered, she's a famous designer, doing the dresses." He shrugged nonchalantly as he poured the sweet smelling concoction in the glass. 

"Then even better! Go for it! Bet you 20$ she's single. And 50$ of my tips you're ending up in her bed tonight." 

"Hilarious you think you'd get tips from these people." He plated up, and returned to you. Or at least, tried since you were nowhere to be seen. He swore you were there some moments ago. 

Until he spotted you talking with the bride, taking notes and sketching so fast in a pad he was genuinely amused for a second at how easy the skills came in your hand. You also took some measurements off the bride and the bridesmaids. It didn't take no longer than fifteen minutes in total to gather what you needed or he supposed. 

He returned again, to finally find you alone in another table, he carried a freshly served drink as the previous one had lost the gas and flavor. You were skimming through your sketch pad, biting your lip as you redrawn over and over the veil's fall.

"Ma'am?" He called and your eyes met his. Lighting up with delight at what he had on the tray.

"Oh, right!. Thank you very much... Uh..." Your brow quirked and Miguel cleared his throat. 

"Miguel. Miguel O'Hara." His lips curved a chip awkwardly as he placed the soda on a cover away from your working tools. 

"Right." Naturally you gave him your name and took a long sip of soda. The sugar in it earned an approving hum from you, Miguel's eyes wandered discreetly over your shiny lips as you licked them. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but how old are you, Miguel?" 

The sudden question threw him off, specially when you had asked so out of the blue with such confidence he only allowed his closed ones. The hunt was on and he was the perfect subject to bring home and hang on your wall. Or rather bed. 

"Pardon?" He blinked, genuinely confused as to why would you ask that as he held his tray in an attempt to hide the fidgeting of his hands. He was the one supposedly doing the flirting, not backwards. That is, if you were actually flirting. It had been a long while since he gave into something casual. One night stands weren't something he indulged often, except when his body screamed for release in something else that wasn't his pumping and squeezing hand. 

Bills and temporary jobs kept him busy like that. 

"I asked your age." Your head turned to face him again, and for once, he frowned. Earning you a small giggle. "Relax, sweetheart. Twenty somethings aren't that much of a favorite of mines."

"Then, guess I'm out of your league." 

You chuckled and sipped your soda, not daring to tear your gaze from him. 

"Older than twenty five?" 

He shrugged, quietly admitting a bit of himself, exposed but genuinely amused at your sudden move.

"Ah, I see. We could do an exception." You gestured for him to seat. And he shook his head. 

"Can't do, I'm still on my shift, I'm afraid." 

"All responsibility is on me if something happens. Please. Sit." You gestured and he sat across you, hesitant as you drank another sip, to sweeten your mouth and lace up the words coming off it. "You see, it's not every day I feel particularly... inclined to indulge myself with the people around me. So I'll go straight to the point."

"Id like that, yeah." His words made you smirk. 

"This is probably your second or third job. Yeah?" 

His brows puckered ever softly at the probing guess, but he kept on listening. 

"Sorry if I come out as invasive. Perks of being in this... side of business turns one into a good people reader." You shrugged and he pouted ever softly. 

"Is that so? What can you tell then? Cause, pretty sure you don't know a thing about me, Ma'am." 

"Oh. Feisty, aren't we? I like that. But flirt or whatever this is, aside. I can tell this is your second or third temporary job, your finances aren't that bad, you do manage, but some extra cash wouldn't be bad for you, am I right? What's on the table? A PhD?" 

"Your point is?" He pressed and you smirked 

"Well, since I was lonely, kinda miserable looking and I wasn't having a good time actually, I thought in getting some company." Your words froze him in the spot. And you chuckled again as he cleared his throat. "Your station wasn't that far from my ears, sweetie."

"Sorry about that-."

"Forget about it. I heard enough to know a little play time in bed with me would cost so low. Kinda hurt by that." 

He gulped. His cheeks couldn't help but warm at the implications of your sudden offering. 

"But... wanna think a bit bigger?"

His eyes dropped midway his eyes, like the octave in his voice as he leaned in closer, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his meaty lips.

"I ain't low cost, Hermosa. That's for sure." 

"Do I look cheap to you?." Your voice mellowed with a promise of something else within. "I'm everything but. Not when it comes to treating myself anyway." 

And God he would be the biggest liar if he didn't admit that was the hottest thing a woman had told him in such a long time. That surge of power coursing through him felt a bit too good. He could decline so you could raise you tab higher, given that you were the one in need of him. But since he hadn't named a price, the offering was just as tempting as the slit on your red dress that hugged your curves deliciously, or the dip in your cleavage. 

"What do you want exactly from me?" 

And he enjoyed the chase. The power you indirectly granted him by simply admitting that not only money was in play, but a much needed release. He knew  what you needed, just wanted to hear it for himself to convince his mind that one of his secret fantasies was turning so tangible and real, it sent shivers straight to his groin. 

"Repeating the same and the obvious is useless, You're a smart man. You ain't stupid, Miguel. So name your price."

"Well, it depends on how many times you'd like to repeat doing me, Ma'am." 

And it was your time to laugh, a pleasant burn ran through your body, as the thrill of push and pull increased.

"I'm just some years older than you, Miguel, save the ma'am for your grandma." 

"The more reason to keep myself out of trouble, Señorita." he crooned and your lips stretched wider, leaning closer. 

"You're playing too much and time is money for me. So what do you say? Wanna leave this serving charade and do something productive with your time and with me?" 

"So basically you'll pay me to keep you busy and satisfied." 

"Company sometimes as well, but we'll see about the satisfied part." Your lips curled with mischief, "No strings attached of course. Work is a good outlet, but I wanna vary them." Your lips twitched with a feline glint, "It makes wonders for my creative process, which means more money for me. And for you, of course. It's a win win for us both." 

"No strings attached." He repeated, pondering for a moment. 

"Indeed." Your hand gestured elegantly while raking him unabashedly. "So?" 

"I'd like four thousand. For every meetup." he pressed, keeping his eyes on you. Had it been too much? 

"Student loans?" Your brow quirked and he nodded. "How much you owe?" 

"Twenty four grand to go, and I'll be free." 

"Hm. I see." You mumbled, twirling the pencil in your hand. "And, are you sure that's enough for you?" 

Dios mio... 

His breath stuck in his throat and his eyes darkened for a moment. You were for the kill and he was left defenseless. But in truth, he'd gladly die. And older woman wanted him, a gorgeous and rich older woman, nonetheless, was there offering him the financial freedom he so desperate sought out through shitty jobs and whatever gig that increased his bank account numbers.

You were willing to pay for his company, and he'd be out of debt soon with no strings attached. What else could he ask for? 

"Is it for you?" He pushed, amusing you to no end. 

"Don't worry your pretty head about it, sweetheart."

Well, shit. 

"Anything else, then, Ma'am?" 

You hummed, satisfied at his reply. 

"For you to stop call me that and bring some good booze. We're going home. Make sure to quit. I don't like interruptions on my... meals." 

A shudder ran down his spine and he nodded cockily. Night was still young and strong after all, like him and his sudden appetite. 

Although he owed Harry seventy bucks, the number was certainly insignificant compared to what he'd get after this scrumptious workout. 

Initially, the sight of your ample penthouse had snatched his breath away. Lush and elegant, like your overall aura. That until you changed into a more comfortable set of clothes. And by it, it meant a delicate and short turquoise slip with a matching robe. Drinks and business talk came in next, leading to the  culminating peak of your mutual transaction. 

His hands grope and pulled your hips downwards as he thrusted upwards, trying to match the heart-shaking pace of your hips swallowing him with a need he rarely got to see and experience in a woman. 

"Fu.. Fuck!" He groaned when your hips rolled, switching once again the tempo, pushing all the air out of his burning lungs. "Hermosa-" He croaked and shuddered when your walls clamped and pulsated around him without a truce and rest. What were you doing to him? 

He knew some women were good like that, but this... This was beyond his comprehension and skills. It was like if your insides held him a willing hostage inside, snug and tight, milking and pulsating around him at will. Like if they obeyed your command of squeezing the life out of him in rhythmic contractions. 

"C'mon, darling. You gotta-" You hissed, sinking on top of him in a go, his cock kissed with a wet push the very end of your hilt, earning a shaky whimper from his throat, "You gotta work hard for it, yeah?" 

His hands dug in the meaty slabs of your ass, spreading and smacking your hips through gritted teeth. Your eyes gleamed in wicked delight  upon the sight of him, struggling to catch up, fighting off the haze in his brain that clouded his judgement, leaving him completely bare and at your drenching and fluttering mercy. 

There were few things that older people taught Miguel through life. Not underestimating your drive was one. He had believed he could handle you with a quick but deep fuck and that would be the end of it until further notice. How sadly mistaken he was. 

But oh, the wonders and mysteries of the female anatomy never ceased to amaze him as they churned his guts, demanding for his performance to increase, to double his efforts if possible. And he tried, God knows he tried but your pistoning and riding hips had his brain a swirling puddle. Smooshing his thoughts in a jumbled and incoherent mess. 

Your wetness didn't lie, your nails burying on his back didn't lie as they created red welts wherever they explored and clawed, your mouth devoured his, set into stealing every single breath as you rutted your hips, grinding in such a way it made him dumb. Pussy drunk even, despite the condom fitting beyond perfection to put the blaming arrow on it. For once he wasn't the one doing the magic happening, rather enjoying it. 

"Just like that, Miguel" You hissed on his mouth before he returned the favor in leaving you breathless with his demanding kisses and needy hands. 

He didn't know what was more arousing and mind shattering. If you, riding him like he was being introduced to pleasure for the first time all over again with every  diabolical thrust you put him through, pulling noises he often didn't do with his scarce partners in bed. 

Or knowing this kind of experience  laid ahead in his future restless night's with you, set into making an example of why he should never underestimate older women and their burning and insatiable libido when it hit in its whole might. He was burning. Enjoying the gorgeous, older and in heat woman on top of him. 

Too much expertise for him? Perhaps, but he was grateful to be learning how to survive your appetite. He was a sucker for learning after all. 

His hands squeezed and slapped your rear, equally struggling to handle the bouncing globes as they escaped his trembling fingers with each rut, unable to hold still a handful, urging your moves to go faster, rougher and deeper if possible, determined to pull each ounce of  your knowledge out to test and under scrutiny, like the good yet underpaid scientist he was. 

And his jaw dropped with an agonising moan when you leaned back, supporting your hands on the flat of his thighs, giving him a prime sight of your body. 

Your legs spread wider so your cunt would choke more of him inside, swivelling those gorgeous hips of yours in a circular motion, causing his eyes to glue on the mess between heated and sweaty limbs. Your feet barely touched the floor as they remained curled up. 

His cock stretched your pussy, and every time he pushed in, a little spurt of your juices flowed, coating and making him glisten with a pretty shimmer, and for a brief second he really wished to be able to have it raw. Your breast bounced at a mind-boggling pace. The hard and unceasing wet slap of flesh had turned into one of his favorite melodies, specially the slurping noise your cunt gave him when grinding your hips downwards to suck more of him in. 

For once he didn't mind being the end to someone else's pleasure. Why would he when you gave him one of the most erotic sights he ever had the privilege to witness in a woman? The experience had gone beyond the didactical, as it actually stimulated the right spots in his brain, firing up his need to experience more. 

"I'm cumming!" You shrieked 

How would you look while at it? Exquisite probably. Specially when his hand snaked down your hips and his mischievous thumb pressed against your engorged, sweet tasting and throbbing clit, flickering it up and down with calculated speed and force to not overwhelm and end your prowess demonstration too soon. 

"C'mon hermosa, cum for me." He mumbled in between languid pants, almost tasting your mouth again, and when your peak crashed with his name rolling out of your tongue in a needy shriek, he did nothing but to whimper and follow into the depths of nirvana itself, willing to drown in this head-splitting pleasure. With a final thrust and a wheeze, he sheathed, spilling into the condom, whimpering as his forehead hid in the crook of your neck. His hot breath colliding against your tender skin. 

The agonising and shaky moans slowly evolved into exhausted pants and lazy laughs. 

"My goodness" You kissed him once, he returned it, then twice and a half surprised and satisfied smile stretched on his lips. He had survived you. "You alive, Miguel?"

Barely 

His breath stuck in his throat as you rose, the sting of your walls abandoning him suddenly with a wet pop had him slumping against the bed frame, then chuckled as you stood to stretch like you hadn't sweated an ounce, some joints popping back in place. 

"I'm good, hermosa." His hand slicked the sweaty strands as his eyes wandered over your glistening and flushed body. Walking like you hadn't fucked him to heaven and back, towards the abandoned couch where your forlorn clothes laid, to pick up the robe and covering yourself with it. His mouth pursed gently, disappointed to not see more of his marks on you. 

"Want a drink before round three?" 

Dios mio... 

"If you're trying to kill me to not pay me, just say it." 

That earned him a giggle while you poured him a tall glass of water and approached. 

"Well, if I can recall you even asked if it was enough for me." He took the glass without letting his sight to drift from yours. "And by the looks of it, I think it's better for us to stop here as you've had enough. Don't want to break you too soon." 

"I take your word. It's not that I'm not capable you know? I just-" 

"Thank the kegels, dear. They do wonders." He choked as you laughed at his reaction. "Relax. You did amazing. Hadn't cum like that in months. But enough on it." You stood again and fetched your checkbook from the purse. 

"You want a check or transfer?" 

"Uh... transfer. Roomie's nosy." His shoulders rolled back as he leaned in closer. 

"Roomie?" your eyes blinked but quickly shook the upcoming comment away, "Alright. Transfer shall be. You can stay, there's food on the kitchen in case you're hungry, shower is on the left bottom door-" 

"Wait... You want me to stay?" 

"For you to rest, yes. I've had my fill for the night. And those dresses won't design themselves, so stay if you want. If not, let me call my chauffer so he can drop you off. I don't trust local cabs around here this time at night and they probably scam you." 

Well, shit. Wasn't he being pampered? 

He just remained there, pondering and weighing his options until his mouth ran with an unexpected question that surprised even himself. 

"Are you hungry?" 

It didn't matter how things turned, the feeling of having you writhing underneath him so far had no match. Maybe, just maybe, he could compare it to the same rush of dopamine when he paid the last cent he owed to those greedy college higher ups that always sucked the four thousand he righteously earned by being buried deep in you. 

The whole transaction sure had gained a bit more trust between you two, to the point of him having his own copy to your penthouse. Rushed, maybe, but it was more a practical thing than anything he shooed away in his mind before he started reading wrong in between lines. 

You trusted him enough to allow him stay at your own home, eat your food, order even in case he grew tired of the caviar and other exotic things he had devoured at least once, to have a little taste of the life you were getting him used to. 

He wouldn't admit it but there were some habits of yours that grew on him, like not worrying about the good food. You appetite was as good as in bed as outside of it. Something he started to notice and take a like to. He'd watch you devour your meals without a care in the world, wear the lingerie and clothes you wanted. Bought the things you wished at whim, fucked him whenever you felt like it, and God you did fucked him. You were... you. Unapologetically you.

And much to his dismay, he didn't mind sex coming into a second place in both of your agendas. But, ever since that last time, things had been quite... odd, for not saying weird between you two. But it was weird in a good way, or he supposed. 

He had spent the night, doing nothing but talking and indulging in each other's company until alcohol-induced sleepiness claimed you both, only to find you in the kitchen, cooking for both. A hearty meal to give you a good shot of energy for what came next. And to his surprise and disappointment the cue for him to remove your clothes and fuck each other silly, never came. 

Now here he was, attending your impromptu message personally. 

"I'll be in a business trip soon for a couple of weeks if not months. This place will be empty. You're welcome to stay if your roomie still hasn't learned to mind his business." Your voice echoed across the studio, as you draped silk and tafetta over a mannequin. 

"You're leaving?" A tad incredulous he asked from the door frame. Taking in properly your working mode. Truly not expecting you to call him to let him know you'd be off shore. 

Your back faced him, the robe hung loosely on your shoulder as your nimble fingers created a design directly on the fabric. It truly marveled him the kind of things you could manage on your own. Yet it was enough to ponder a nagging question that had been harassing his mind for quite a while now, after he accidentally found a picture of you, kissing a man's cheek with a moonstruck look in your face. And a ring on your finger. 

What had happened? 

He wasn't one to get into people's business, in fact, he prided in keeping himself away from where he wasn't needed nor invited. Yet the picture had stirred the ever and nearly childish curiosity in him. Would you take it wrong if he asked? How would you react if he asked something about the mysterious man, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes next to you? 

"Gotta do a runway in London, then in Paris and Australia. The lots of meetings every day with my manager and team in Greece. And New York again."

If it wasn't for the blasé tone in your voice, he'd thought you were excited to see the world. But he had seen glimpses of the cruel and merciless world a designer threaded on. Stolen ideas, designs, collections, and backstabbing from the least suspecting; nights with little to no sleep, unhealthy eating patterns, stress, anxiety with logistics, contacts, and people asking for favors, sabotaging ... 

And so much more he couldn't remember properly at the moment, but it gave him a better understanding as to why you had sought him, and devoured him until you had your fill. Cause it was never about his pleasure in the first place. And he didn't mind. 

If he was honest, it was what happened after the hookups that ignited that need to experience it all over again. Your sated, sweet laughter in his arms paved the way for a new addition to the already blurry casual dynamic. The intimate talks late at night, while his fingers caressed your scalp, admiring those fine silver threads, peppering your hair here and there, had become his favorite part of the ritual.

Unavoidable as it was, the no strings attached mantra had been slowly vanishing from his brain. Specially when his compliments flared your cheeks and made you giggle like a crushing teenager again. Or when his touches became more gentle and aimed towards soothing you after a long day of stressful events. Your kisses turning more intimate, lingering with each passing week. 

He once found himself kissing the back of your shoulder, in return of yet another mind-splitting orgasm. 

"If you're bringing company to impress, please make sure to clean properly." 

What? 

"Excuse me?" His voice crisped with anger, and you turned to see him, surprised he'd take that personally instead of the usual humorous and borderline jerk-ish and dry way. 

"Sorry..." You returned the attention towards the mannequin again. “Forgive me. That was stupid.”

Very. 

How did you even dare to think he'd do that? Hadn't he been available for you whenever you wanted? Wasn't his loyalty proven enough? 

The sudden epiphany left him even more agitated. The mere thought of being with someone else while being with you, even if transactional, angered him. Offended him even. 

"Just... You know what to do." He mumbled and left the room. A clear 'call me when you need me'. 

"Miguel-" You called but he had been long gone. 

You knew he was a pithy man when it came to words. But his sudden leaving felt odd, even worst when the door from the main door slammed shut. Leaving you with the loneliness as your only companion once again. 

His feet stopped dead in his tracks upon watching the penthouse, your room specifically, empty. Devoid of your presence and some of your clothes and luggage. in the drawers. 

Fuck

He knew you were on a business trip, but, didn't expect you to be gone so soon. Not when he had returned to apologize from yesterday's slip with his temper. And now, he had to wait for God knows how long before he could see you again.

Miguel could text you an apology, or email you one, but it wasn't the way his mother raised him, messed up as it was. Conchata always made sure to make him apologize face to face, so the lesson was learned. Besides, although his thumbs itched to send you a text message, what would he talk about? 

Probably his text would get lost in the many thousands you had yet to attend. So adding himself like another stress factor didn't feel right. Not when you had runways to do and stuff. He'd have to wait although the idea sat wrong in his chest. 

He could leave whatever thing going on between you two, if he wished. He could turn back close the door and forget that he had shared a good couple of months with you. His debt had been paid already, but he never had the courage to tell you. Not because he wanted more money, no. He simply wasn't ready to say goodbye so soon. 

Not when he had gotten used to your presence, your laugh, your sweetness when it came to him. If anything he had been saving up for leaving the city, and couldn't do it if he had no money. But now that his heart found a little detour from the no strings attached rule, he didn't want to go back. 

With a last glance, he took his phone and pressed the chat log of your number. The pretty logo of your company displayed with pride, leaving the text box open. Urging him to write something, to drop the pride and reach out first. But cowardice held him in a choking grip. 

He left. Unable to go past his pride and send you a text message to ask you when would you return. If you needed him, you'd let him know, right? You wouldn't leave him hanging. 

Right? 

You could have any man you wanted, you had him after all. Yet it was enough for his mind to punish itself with all source of intrusive, pessimistic and anxious thoughts. Your plane crashing, you being gone for good, you forgetting about him by finding a new toy. You being with someone else. 

The latter made him frown with an unpleasant sensation coursing through him. Unable to pinpoint between jealousy or fear. 

Maybe you hadn't contacted him in weeks cause you were busy as usual, or the signal sucked.

You were too childish for her. 

His brain trembled and his hand rubbed against his face, letting the headache to brew in. 

She doesn't like it when you behave like a spoiled brat. 

Another thought jabbed his mind and he sighed. What had you done out of him? He often didn't care in the slightest about what people thought of him, but the idea of you not contacting him because he had acted like precisely was too embarrassing to ignore, and that little act up he gave you before you left, only reinforced such thought. 

You needed a man, not a man child. 

The waiting slowly ate his brain alive, until a couple of news stories through social media gave him important and invaluable information he refused to get directly out of embarrassment. After a month and some more without your presence in his life, you were to return within a couple of days to New York. Or so the fashion fan's forum online said. 

He'd get to see you soon. 

The thought alone sent an equally happy and anxious shiver down his spine as his mind raced with all the things he needed to do. 

Would you want to see him again? 

Hopefully... 

Exhausted was a measly word to describe your current mood. The flight had not only delayed twice, but some of your luggage was missing. Important luggage with materials you needed for the bride's dress. 

The fashion tour had drained you so bad to the point of barely leaving time for yourself. If you had the time for drinking a cup of coffee was to say it was too much free time. But now that your agenda finally allowed you to breath and conceded a bit of time, you were ready to go home, take a long bath and sleep the rest of the day. 

Your feet ached, your head pounded and Miguel-

You stopped in your tracks and blinked, just to make sure the sight before you wasn't a product of your quanked mind. 

Holding a bouquet of spring flowers, dressed to impress with a look that could only be translated as  'I'm here for you.' was Miguel. Tentatively, he took a step closer, then another and another until he was before you, towering over your frame with a coy yet genuine soft smile.

"Hey..." 

You hummed, too stunned to see him here, taking the time to see you. 

For a brief of second you couldn't help but wonder if he had ran out of money, hence his presence here. Right? Cause your brain sort of refused to believe, rather didn't want to believe someone like him was genuinely interested in you, not when money had played a huge part in your relationship.

"Hey." Still, it felt good to think at least he cared enough to take his pretense a bit further and actually make you feel special. 

"I'm sorry." He blurted, stopping all thoughts in a go in your overriding brain, "I... wanted to apologize for what happened a month ago. Shouldn't have gotten so upset over it." He offered the flowers, hoping you accepted them. And when you did his heart almost leaped in his throat upon seeing your eyes turning glossy. 

Fuck. 

"I'm sorry for... you know. Fuck... I'm not good at this... but damn. I've... I've missed you, Hermosa." 

"You did?" The question threw him out of the horse's saddle, specially when there was so much unbelieving behind your tone. This time, instead of anger a lick of sadness came through his heart. He didn't know what had happened in your previous relationship, but whatever it did, sure left some open wounds he now started to see. 

Late as usual, but he finally noticed those cracks in your seemingly dismissive behavior whenever he got too close. The defenses your heart put up every time he complimented you genuinely, or his touches began turning a bit too intimate. 

"Of course I did, hermosa. I'm sorry for not contacting you much sooner. I... I didn't know if you wanted to still see me after what happened." He admitted, his heart pounded in his throat as you shook your head. 

"Please don't blame yourself for that. I shouldn't have said something like that either. It was my fault." You sighed, taking a good sniff of the flowers, your nerves soothed, "I should've contacted you as well. But you've got no idea how busy I was."

"Can only imagine." He offered his hand, "Let me help you with your luggage. Are you hungry?" 

The knot in your throat only tightened. 

"You're so sweet, Miguel." Your hand caressed him and he leaned in your touch, letting your warmth to bask him in again, he had missed it. He had missed you. 

"Learned that from a good teacher." He kissed your palm and before his mind scolded him from breaking the detachment rule so miserably, he pulled you for a hug. Inhaling your perfume for the first time in weeks. 

"I've missed you. A lot. I always thought about you, but my job-" 

"Hey, hey. Corazón, it's ok. I know you were working your pretty ass off back in those runways. I'm just glad you're back. Missed my favorite bossy woman." 

That earned him a half sob and chuckle as he kissed your temple and held you. 

Despite the curious and not so discreet glances some people gave your way, Miguel held you by the waist as you walked back to your awaiting car. Ready to catch up and finally, bring those walls down surrounding your heart once and for all. 

What he didn't count in was the same man he had seen back at your place in that picture, was now awaiting in the living room of your penthouse, looking in between you and him, like he had seen a ghost. 

Or for you to ask him to wait in the studio as you handled some stuff. 

But he definitely did not expect the heated argument escalating between you and that man to the point of  him rushing to your side as soon as he heard glass shattering. 

You were in tears, shaking, distressed as the man held his hips and shook his head.  

"You should be ashamed of yourself. Look at you, fucking guys that barely know shit about life." He spat as soon as he saw Miguel. 

"Funny you say so when you broke up our engagement because you didn't feel it was the right time, but you think I didn't know what you did!? You think I don't know you were stealing from me the whole time and spend it on your fucking drugs!?" 

"That was my job too! I worked for your stupid dream as much as you did. It's my job on the line too!" 

"You didn't work shit! I was the one doing the job! It's always been me taking the lead in our business because you're too fucking insecure to make a decision! You were dragging me down, Charles." 

"Well, thank me for dumping you. You think this kid loves you? How much are you paying him to screw yo-" 

Charles, or rather Charlie, your ex fiancé, didn't get to finish as he fell with a hard thud on the coffee table, breaking it in half after Miguel silenced him with a powerful punch in his face. 

Your hand covered your mouth as Miguel dragged the man through the floor with such strength and ease, it made your eyes widen, as he pushed Charles out of your penthouse. As if throwing a bag of trash outside. 

The door rattled when said man kicked it from the other side, startling you. But also having Miguel to pull you to his side without tearing his gaze from the door. 

"Are you okay, hermosa?" His gentle voice was a stark contrast against the merciless beat down he put Charles through. His thumb moved in soothing circles against your lower back. 

"Yeah, just... fuck. I swear I had no idea he would appear out of nowhere-" 

"Hey, It's alright. You don't have to explain yourself, guapa. He came here looking for trouble. Couldn't leave you hanging." 

"You're... not upset?" 

His hand cupped your cheek and wiped away the shy tears approaching the corner of your eyes

"Why would I? He came looking for trouble. They found him. And I never got to ask who was he anyway. Didn't think it was important." He kissed your temple as soon as you shuddered. 

"He wasn't. At least, not anymore. Sure I was engaged to him, but you heard the rest."

"Still, I don't understand why he dumped you."

"He had stolen enough. He didn't need me anymore. So, go figure." 

Miguel frowned and examined your face for a couple of seconds, before pursing his lips. He didn't like the way fear clung to your features. 

"He won't hurt you, ever again. Got it?" 

You nodded. And he gulped while speaking again. 

"You know... I know it might seem like I'm taking advantage of it, but I promise you... it stopped being about the money a long ago." His words sent another jolt to your heart

"And I know... I know it might seem rushed and you might think I'm just playing to get money but... I'm not, I promise I'm not." He swallowed again, "I... I really like you. I like... No. I love spending time with you. You're so... sweet and... and so considerate with me,  You're always helping me around, looking after me even if I act stupid. " He chuckled nervously, stumbling on his own speech, "You're just... so amazing, hermosa. And... I'd be the luckiest man if you give me a chance to prove you how much of the man you need, I can be." 

All he needed was a yes from you. Instead, you pulled him down for a kiss. A kiss that had him snaking his hands around your waist, and pulling you closer so he could consume your supple and needy lips. No vocal reply was needed. Not when the answer tasted sweeter than the wine you loved to drink. 

Like the compliments he gave you when clamping like a vice around him, like the little pout you gave in your sleep after a good night of several rounds with him. 

He didn't care if you were years older than him, he wanted you. And none else but you. And now that you were his, and he yours, neither had the intentions of letting go. 

Dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Witch

| "And I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out. I'm miles away, he's on my mind, I'm getting tired of crawling all the way. And I've had enough, it's obvious, and I'm getting tired of crawling all the way." |

Because Coriolanus Snow is a pessimist and not an optimist, he expects the worst to come from the people of District Twelve.

When he catches them stealing, he's not surprised.

When he listens to them lie, he's not surprised.

When he sees them cheat, he's not surprised.

But when he hears someone whispering about a witch in the woods, he's surprised. Even more so because it's one of his bunkmates, Smiley, telling the tall tale and dinner one night in the mess hall.

"She lives out by the lake," he hushes out, eyes scanning the table at the faces holding onto his every word, "rumor has it that if you give her your hand, she'll read your palm and tell you about your future."

Coriolanus snorts into his metal cup, drinking the last of his water, "A witch? Come on Smiley, we might be bored but we're not desperate fools, there's no such thing as witches."

Maybe if he were younger he would've believed Smiley, but there are little things to joke about when stuck in a wasteland like Twelve. Especially witches. He knew District people were crazy but not this crazy.

Smiley gives him a toothy grin, often known for causing trouble moments later, "Why don't we go see then? We have Saturday off, we could have a witch-hunting party in the woods." He makes it sound like big fun even though it's nothing of the sort. The last thing Coriolanus wants to do is spend his one day off galavanting in those godforsaken woods with his bunkmates.

But everyone else at the table starts speaking before he can get a word in, whispering about how exciting it will be to get their palms read. Coriolanus rolls his eyes while listening to them, so easy to corrode and lie to, no wonder they're in Twelve.

He's here for other, top-secret reasons, but he plans on getting the hell out of Twelve as soon as possible.

Witches be damned.

꧁ ꧂

When Saturday comes along, Coriolanus does his best to look busy.

He cleans up the area around his bunk, does his laundry, shaves his face, he even ventures into town. He's looking to buy a small, hand-held knife he can tuck into a pocket if need be, just in case something happens. He goes to the Hob, a shabby black market run out of an old mining warehouse. The old, rickety building often leads him to worry that it might all collapse one day, burying him inside of it, but it holds for the time being.

He strolls through the aisles, eyeing different things that vendors sell. Some people sell alcohol, others sell odd little trinkets that he doesn't care for. He spots one woman selling different herbs, she must be brave enough to venture into the woods to harvest them.

He goes to a small table tucked away in the corner, several knives lie on the table's surface and he picks one up, weighing it in his large hand. It feels good, natural. "How much?" He asks the wrinkled man selling the knives.

"It'll be 'bout ten," the man grumbles, hands in his pockets. Most people in Twelve aren't too keen on selling anything to Peacekeepers but it's not like they can turn him away either. It would be rude and it could get them arrested since the Hob shouldn't exist in the first place.

Coriolanus digs in his pocket and pulls out ten crisp bills, laying them on the table, "Thanks."

With a new knife, he strolls out of the Hob with a pleased expression. He might swing by the bakery before heading back to the base, get something sweet to eat on the walk back. So when he spots Smiley and his convoy of idiots, his cheerful demeanor quickly dissipates.

"Gent!" Smiley gave him that nickname when Coriolanus first arrived at the base and he hasn't been able to shake it since. He got that nickname due to his manners, his politeness, and his Capitol etiquette. It's easy to earn a nickname like that when everyone else here acts like wild animals.

But Coriolanus forces a smile onto his lips, meeting his friends halfway, "What're you all up to?" He asks, hoping they're on their way to the Hob or to deface public property like normal people. "We're going to the woods to look for the witch."

Ugh.

"Ah, well, good luck on your witch hunt," he says, determined to go back to the base and enjoy the rest of his day but Smiley is so damn persistent. "Join us, Gent! Not like you've got anything better to do."

Coriolanus wants to point out that he has many things he could be doing with his free time, such as sleeping, eating, anything but trekking through the woods really. But Smiley isn't easily deterred and Coriolanus is tragically roped into his little scheme. Everyone else seems to be in great spirits as they walk through the grassy meadow, straight towards the dark, mysterious woods.

Coriolanus trudges along, hands shoved in his pockets, determined to get this over with so he never has to hear about it again. He's already prepared for the theatrics, whispering about noises that were never made, claiming that someone saw something when it was really just a squirrel.

It's like he's stuck in school all over again, hearing rumors through a vine of sources, all skewing the information a little more before passing it on to the next person. By the time it reaches its destination, it's completely blown out of proportion.

Coriolanus decides to humor Smiley, mostly for the sake of making this trip go by faster, "So this witch, why is she allowed to live in the woods instead of with the rest of us?"

It's a valid question, no one is allowed to live outside the limits of the Capitol, not even witches. Smiley shrugs, clearly not seeing a flaw in his lie, "No one wants to tell a witch where she can or can't go, Gent, she lives in a different world than we do."

Coriolanus swats at a fly, these woods are filled with animals that have nothing better to do than bother him and make his life a living hell. Birds stirring up a racket, squirrels running around his feet, and the heat, he should've just stayed in town.

"Right," is all he says.

They walk for what feels like hours, to the point where Coriolanus wishes he brought something to eat and maybe some more comfortable shoes. He just wore his uniform, the blue pants, white shirt, he went without the heavy long-sleeved button-up for obvious reasons. He's only required to wear the full uniform when working.

Sweat beads on his brow and falls down the back of his neck, he runs his fingers through his buzzed hair, remembering how his curls looked falling to the ground when they clipped them off. But he's glad for the hairstyle at the moment, it allows him to feel lighter, less weight on his head.

A few of his other bunkmates stumble ahead of him and Smiley, laughing and pushing each other. Coriolanus sees them passing around a bottle, probably filled with moonshine or some other drink they bought from a vendor. He looks up at the sky and frowns when he sees that it's darkened since they left town, "Looks like rain," he notes.

Smiley looks up too, clearly not that bothered by the impending weather, "We'll be fine, it's not too far now."

Once again, Coriolanus doesn't believe Smiley, but he forges on and they come across a clearing, "Why don't we take a quick break?" Beanpole suggests, another bunkmate who's drunk out of his mind. Coriolanus can do little to protest, especially when everyone else sits on the ground or on a fallen tree.

The wind whips through the trees and through his white shirt, causing Coriolanus to shiver. It's been a hot August and under normal circumstances, he'd be glad for the rain but not if he's going to get caught in it.

No one makes any moves to get up and keep going, but Coriolanus is anxious to get this show on the road, "I'm just gonna keep going then," he decides, shoving his hands in his pockets. No one stops him and he gives Smiley an unsure look, "It's this way, right?" He points straight ahead and Smiley nods, "Yep, we'll catch up with you."

He grunts and starts towards the general direction of the lake, figuring it's big enough to spot. But the further he goes, the stronger the wind. Birds fly overhead, screeching out to their friends, warning them about the incoming storm. Coriolanus feels a chill go up his spine and rubs his arms, suddenly cold. He looks around for his friends but finds none, "Smiley?" He calls out, anxiety creeping into his voice, "Beanpole? Where are you guys?"

He hears nothing in response and his breaths start to grow sharp. Calm down, he tells himself, you're fine, it's fine.

Oh, but it's not fine. He's lost, no idea where to go. He's never been in these woods by himself. He stumbles in one direction only to fail at retracing his steps when it leads to nowhere. Rain starts to pelt against his skin, cold and hard.

"Fuck," he whispers, using his hand to shield his eyes.

He has limited options. He could stay here and wait for help, but the boys probably decided to head back, figuring he'd head back too.

Or he can find the lake and find this cabin, take shelter there until the rain lets up.

He goes with the latter.

By some miracle, he finds the lake. It's huge and probably beautiful under the right circumstances but not right now, not when it's pouring and he's freezing. Coriolanus desperately searches for the cabin, he should've asked more questions about it instead of moping. Maybe then he'd have some clue as to where to go.

His eyes are starting to grow heavy, he hasn't eaten in hours or had anything to drink. He starts thinking about the dinner he's going to miss back on the base, warm bread, pitchers of water. Oh, he's becoming delirious.

His eyes scan the bank of the water and he spots something growing along the edges. Maybe it's something he can eat. He walks towards it in almost a trance, kneeling down in the muddy grass, not caring about his pants getting dirty.

He grabs whatever plant is growing by the stem and rips it out of the ground, wincing when dirt flies into his face. He feels even more defeated when all he sees are roots, dirt-covered roots, nothing edible.

"Not time for katniss just yet."

He nearly topples into the lake when he hears a voice behind him.

Coriolanus slowly turns around, looking up at a girl dressed in all black, looking down at him like he's the biggest inconvenience she's ever come across. He opens his mouth to speak but fails to find the words, it's hard when he's cold, hungry, and lost.

But she seems to know that already.

"Come," is all she says before turning on her heel.

She walks towards the treeline, leaving him to contemplate whether or not to follow her. She could easily kill him, but then again, she seems harmless, smaller than him so he could easily overpower her if needed. He's also desperate for help and exhausted.

He follows her into the woods.

The rain isn't as bad under the canopy of the trees and they move in silence. He watches her walk over roots and branches with practiced ease, barely making a sound. Her blonde hair is tucked into her black coat but it's nearly white in the dim lighting, soaked with the rain. He wants to ask her why she's out here and where she's taking him but keeps his mouth shut.

Better to ask questions later.

They finally come to the edge of the forest and this time, he sees the infamous cabin in the woods. "Oh," he whispers, feeling like a fool for being unable to find this structure.

She leads him up a few rickety steps and pushes open the wooden door, walking right inside. Coriolanus cautiously steps into the small house, looking around to make sure this isn't some big trap or worse, a prank set up by Smiley and his bunkmates.

But the cabin is empty, quiet, and dry.

He closes the door behind him.

A sense of tiredness washes over him the second he sees a bed tucked into the far corner, it looks so warm and cozy, and then he sees a small stove burning wood in the other corner. He sees some framed things hung on the walls, maybe some plants, some pages from books. He pays them no mind and trudges over to the bed, not caring how strange or rude he must appear to this girl who he still hasn't said a word to.

He sighs, reaching out to touch the bedsheets and he feels a warm hand on the back of his rain-soaked shirt, "Sleep," she says and it feels like the lullaby his mother used to sing to him when she was alive. He swears he can smell the roses from her compact powder.

And the last thing he sees is the girl in the woods looking over him, "You're the witch," he whispers before closing his eyes.

꧁ ꧂

When Coriolanus wakes, it's dark outside and from what he can hear, it's still raining.

He sits up in the bed that's not his and finds that he's shirtless. He wishes that were the most alarming part of this situation, but he happens to be acutely aware that he's in a cabin in the middle of the woods, a cabin that belongs to a witch.

He looks around the small room. There's really not much, the stove still burning wood, a small table tucked away in the corner, lots of baskets with different plants in them. Maybe she is a witch.

His hands slide down his pants which are, thankfully, still on and he slips a hand into his pocket, wrapping it around the knife he bought earlier today. It brings him comfort to feel the weapon in his grasp and he carefully swings his feet over the side of the bed, resting them on the wooden floorboards. He feels strong enough to stand and the boards groan under his weight.

He starts looking for his shirt so he can get the hell out of here before she kills him. He opens a small armoire, tips the baskets to the side, even looks under the bed. He's about to see if any of the floor boards are loose when the door swings open, the white-haired girl stands with chopped-up wood in her hands.

She doesn't look surprised to see him rummaging through her home but he still feels caught.

"Sorry," he says, stepping back towards the bed.

She walks in and shuts the door behind her, setting down the wood first, "You slept for a while," she replies, dusting off her hands and wiping the rain off her coat, "thought you might never wake."

Coriolanus swallows, he's kind of thirsty, maybe she has some water. His stomach betrays him and growls, he's hungry too. "I have some tea," she tells him, nodding at her stove, "don't have much to eat, I'm afraid."

Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows, he thought the woods were full of animals you could hunt, "Nothing you'd like to eat," she corrects herself. From what he's seen, this girl lives off of twigs and plants, and he's a big boy who can't just 'live off the land' like other people in Twelve.

"Tea is fine."

She hums and busies herself with the tea, grabbing an old rusted kettle, putting some leaves into it before placing it on the stove top.

"Are you," he hesitates, "are you the witch?"

She looks at him from over her shoulder, lips twitching into what might be a smile, "What do you think?" She asks, ignoring his question, and he slouches, he really just wants his shirt back if he's being honest. But it would be interesting if he could go back to the base with a story to tell, about how he saw the witch of the woods.

"I think you're some outcast," he finally decides, an air of arrogance in his voice, "shunned from Twelve, living out here by yourself after you did something horrible to someone."

He can picture it now, her breaking some boy's heart or killing someone over something worthless. People in Twelve will turn on each other in the blink of an eye, he's seen it before.

She slides off her coat and he can see how long her hair is, all the way down to her waist. She's wearing a black dress and black boots, he can't imagine she has much of a wardrobe out here.

"Think I've been shunned huh?"

He can hear a distant southern twang in her voice, he's grown more than used to hearing it since he got here. Everyone here says things a little differently than in the Capitol.

He nods although he's not so sure now. She turns to face him and he can finally see how pretty she is in the dim candlelight. Her complexion is tan and her face covered in freckles. Her eyes nearly take his breath away, shades of a stormy sky, blue and gray.

If she is a witch, then she's the prettiest witch he's ever seen.

She tilts her head, studying him in his half-naked form, "I think you're a spoiled boy," she says, "rich and used to gettin' your way. You don't belong here the same way I don't belong here, only difference is I actually did somethin' about it."

Ouch.

Coriolanus puffs out his chest despite needing help when she first found him, pitifully lost and scared, "You don't know anything about me," he spits back, a slight tremble to his voice.

She raises her eyebrows as if used to hearing men like him talk to her like this.

"Let me see your palm."

Coriolanus immediately shoves his hands into his pockets, grabbing his knife in case she tries something, "I think I'll be going now," he tries, but she steps towards him, "thanks for letting me stay."

"You won't make it in those woods," she nods at the door that leads to rain and darkness. She's right, he'll get lost again and no pretty girls will come to find him.

The kettle begins to whistle, reminding them both about the tea she's making and she sighs, carding a hand through her long hair, "Sit at the table and drink some tea."

Even though everything inside of him is screaming at him to run, Coriolanus sits at the small rickety table tucked away in the corner of the cabin. He looks around the cabin once again, trying to see if she has any sort of weapons, but he sees nothing but candles, plants, and a few books that look quite worn down.

The girl takes the kettle off the stove and sets it down on the table, bringing two cups with her. He watches her pour some of the tea and it smells delicious. "What's in it?" He asks, wondering if maybe she poisoned it. She sits down across from him and grabs her cup, bringing it to her lips and he watches her swallow the drink.

"Mint leaves, water, bit of honey too, nothin' that'll kill you," she replies with a grin, "if I wanted to skin you then I would've done it already pretty boy."

Coriolanus feels his cheeks turn pink, this strange girl might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and her compliment reminds him of what's waiting for him back in the Capitol, attention from young women with prospects. But for the time being, this girl will do.

"What's your name?"

She sits up straighter in her chair, resting her forearms on the small table, "Soarynn." Coriolanus nods and brings the cup to his lips, taking small sips of the hot drink. It does wonders for his throat and instantly makes him feel warmer. "You live out here all by yourself?"

He can't imagine that a small thing like her would've managed to build this cabin by herself, but she could certainly fix it up, make it her own.

"I have a cat," she tells him, "she likes to go out at night."

A witch with a cat, this is too cliche for his liking. All she needs is a broom.

She holds out her small hand, reaching across the table, "Let me see your palm," she says again, gentler this time.

But Coriolanus still hesitates. What if she cuts off his hand? What if this is some sort of trap?

"No one comes all the way out here for no good reason," she tells him, "I know what you've heard, now give me your palm."

Slowly, Coriolanus places his hand on top of hers, palm facing the wooden ceiling. She leans forward, tea long forgotten, and her other hand begins to trace the lines on his palm, she mumbles a few things, entirely focused on his calloused hand from working hard on the base.

Coriolanus watches her with both fascination and fear. She has long lashes, and her lips are a rosy pink color. He wonders why she's really out here all by herself and why no one has brought her back to town.

She presses her finger against one line and looks up at him, "This line means an important bloodline, you come from an important legacy."

She touches another line, a shorter one, "This one means good fortune, you'll be richer than you can imagine."

Does she tell every poor soul this when they stumble upon her cabin?

She rests her finger on the last line, "This one means a long life, but....but it'll end badly," she whispers the last part, furrowing her brows in confusion, "can't see how but you'll die in some terrible way."

Coriolanus pulls his hand from hers, suddenly not so interested in her fortune-telling abilities, "Alright, well thanks for that, but I should get going. I believe I came here wearing a white shirt."

She doesn't look offended by his abrupt behavior, if anything she looks...hurt that he's leaving so soon. "You'll get lost," she tells him.

"I'll take my chances," he tells her.

Anything is better than being stuck with this crazy girl.

꧁ ꧂

Twenty minutes later, Coriolanus is once again, walking through the woods. Rain-soaked clothes weigh down on his skin but he persists. The witch or whatever she was gave him his shirt back and pointed in the general direction of town, warning him once again that he wouldn't make it far in this rain. Part of him felt like she wanted him to get lost so she could find him again, but he left either way.

Coriolanus shivers and almost stumbles over a fallen branch. Maybe he should've listened to her, heeded her advice, but she was starting to creep him out, talking about how he was going to die a terrible death.

Who the hell says that?

He shakes his head in frustration, dismissing her words as nonsense. She's probably gone nuts from living out here so long by herself. She probably drinks the lake water and eats poisoned berries.

Hopefully, she was telling the truth about what was in that tea though.

Coriolanus keeps forging forward, determined to get back to town by daybreak. He walks for what feels like hours, doing his best to stay on course. She could've lied about which direction town is, a terrible thought that pops into his head. But she doesn't seem like the type to lie. In fact, she seemed a little too comfortable being honest with him.

When the rain starts to let up and the sun starts to rise, he sees the edge of the forest. Coriolanus laughs, cold, tired, and delirious. And he thinks he can hear people shouting his name too.

He's so happy, so tired, so cold, he's starting to fall towards the ground.

Everything goes black and this time, he doesn't smell roses.

꧁ ꧂

"Wake up, Gent!"

Coriolanus gasps, eyes flying open at the sound of Smiley's voice. He's back on the base, he can see that clear as day he's somehow made it back in one piece, that witch of the woods be damned.

He looks to his left where Smiley is gazing down at him, concerned and relieved that he didn't kill his bunkmate over a stupid witch hunt. "Man, you sure had us scared," Smiley hushes out, glancing around what must be the infirmary, "it started raining and we couldn't find you, searched all over before we gave up and had to come back."

Coriolanus almost points out that none of them had to come back to the base, that they could've kept their little search party out a little longer, but after being stuck in that rain, he can't even blame them.

"What did Hoff say?" Is the first thing that leaves his dry mouth. Coriolanus could care less about Smiley or Beanpole or anyone really. What he cares about is what his Commander says, because Commander Hoff is his one ticket out of this dustbowl.

Coriolanus has spent days trying to get on Hoff's good side, but he's starting to think that he doesn't have one.

Smiley's eyes drop, a frown on his normally grinning face, "He uh, he wants to see you as soon as you're discharged from the infirmary. One of the guys let it slip that we went looking for the witch. He's not too happy with us right now."

Coriolanus bites back a groan. Not only did he get lost in the rainy woods that he didn't even want to enter in the first place, but now, he's going to get punished for it! He can picture it now, scrubbing the toilets with his very own toothbrush.

"Maybe he'll let you off easy since you got lost."

"How long was I missing for?"

Coriolanus wonders if maybe he was gone for longer than a night. Perhaps that witch brewed up all sorts of potions to trick his mind. Maybe he's not even here right now.

No, the infirmary smells like sweat and desperation, he's definitely here right now.

"Only a night, can't believe some animal didn't get to you before we did."

Coriolanus thinks about mentioning the witch, or well, the girl he met out by the lake, but for some reason, he chooses not to. This information is best kept out of the hands of someone like Smiley, someone who can't ever keep his mouth shut. If it weren't for Smiley, he wouldn't have been stumbling through those woods in the first place.

"Yeah," is all he mumbles, "can't believe it either."

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus sits on the edge of his seat, literally and figuratively.

Commander Hoff's office is clean and cool, he clearly has an air conditioning unit in here. It must be nice, it must be nice to be someone important instead of some fool getting lost in the woods.

Hoff finally walks into the office, brisk and determined in his steps. One glance around this room can tell you how important Hoff is with his medals and plaques hanging on the walls. Coriolanus sits up straighter in his seat, eager to get this beratement over with.

"Private Snow," the Commander greets him, standing behind his large desk, "glad to see you up and moving." Coriolanus nods, he left the infirmary a few hours after waking up. The nurse had him drink some water and eat some crackers before she felt that he was in good enough condition. Such great healthcare here in Twelve.

"Yessir, I'm glad I got the help I needed."

The Commander grunts, sitting down in a more impressive chair on the other side of the large desk, "Why were you in the woods, Snow? Don't you know it's against the law?" Well, shit.

Coriolanus was prepared to lie, well, not lie but bend the truth a little bit. But maybe he can benefit from this incident if he plays his cards right.

"I heard there was a witch in the woods," he answers, "and I wanted to find her and string her up, make an example of what happens when you try to live outside of the Capitol's laws."

Hoff raises an eyebrow, it's possible that he also knows about the witch but has chosen not to do anything about her. From what Coriolanus observed, she wasn't harming anybody, if anything she helped him, which confuses him further.

Why would she help a complete stranger?

"Yes, the locals say there's a witch in the woods," Hoff grumbles, waving his hand as to dismiss this entire false notion, "doesn't make much sense to me but I suppose it does a good job at warding people off from wandering into the woods. Well, most people." He gives Coriolanus a pointed look.

The witch had mentioned other people coming to her, to ask her to read their palms, so clearly not everyone thinks it's some urban legend. There is some truth to the lie. And there is some truth because there is a girl out there who has no issue being called a witch.

Which is why he can't stop himself from blurting out, "There is a witch out there, or well, a girl. There's a girl who lives in a cabin by the woods, she found me, helped me."

Hoff looks...impressed. Which cannot be a good thing considering he was summoned here to be ridiculed for reckless behavior and abandoning the Peacekeepers to go running through the woods for a night.

"So you've seen this witch? With your own two eyes?"

Coriolanus nods, unless it was a dream, a strange, strange dream. "I have sir, she's not too far out, apparently she can read your palm, she read mine but what she was saying...it, it didn't make much sense to me but she's out there."

Hoff drums his fingers on the surface of his desk, perhaps he doesn't see an issue with the witch if it discourages people from entering the woods. But at the same time, this could end badly, word could get back to the Capitol that he's not doing his job, that he lets a District Twelve citizen live freely in the woods.

If Coriolanus were in his Commander's boots, he'd have every available Peacekeeper searching the woods to hunt down this witch.

If not for the good of the Capitol, then for the good of his reputation.

"I want you to do some recon, learn about her, find out what she's really doing out there and then we'll bring her in."

Coriolanus did not think this was where their conversation would lead to. He was prepared for a scolding, a slap on the wrist. Not a mission, an assignment.

"You want me to do it?" He can't help but ask. He's still relatively new to the base, there must be someone more capable to carry out this job. Hoff nods, giving Coriolanus what must be a smile, "You're alert Snow, you managed to track down this witch faster than any of my other men and you weren't even trying."

"You've looked for her before?"

"Of course we have, can't have someone living outside of the Capitol's law. But she's a tricky one that witch, always evading us. And she hasn't stirred up any real trouble, but I'd like to get my hands on her so to speak before putting an end to these stories."

Coriolanus shivers at those words, "...get my hands on her..."

It feels like Hoff has a personal vendetta against this witch, against Soarynn, that is her name after all.

"Anyways, I want you to go out to her cabin today, befriend her if you must, get her to trust you so we can lure her out of the woods, it'll be much easier than the alternative."

Coriolanus doesn't know how he could get her to trust him, not when he doesn't trust her. But he can't back down now, this is too great an opportunity to pass up.

"What's the alternative sir?"

Hoff's lips curl up into a cruel smile.

"A witch hunt."

꧁ ꧂

Finding the cabin is much easier the second time around.

With a small pistol tucked into his waistband, he feels much more prepared than he did last time. Coriolanus approaches the cabin, admiring it in the daylight. It's small, with vines growing on the walls, and the windows are open. She clearly doesn't care too much about security.

He climbs the rickety steps and finds that the door is cracked open and no one is inside. She must be down at the lake. He saunters down to the blue water, it looks much prettier when it's not raining. He scans the water for a small boat but sees nothing. Maybe she's in the woods.

Before he can turn to go back to the cabin, he hears a yowl and feels claws sink into his calf. Coriolanus groans at the sharp feeling, he forgot all about these damn woodland creatures, he just didn't think one would be bold enough to attack him out in the open.

He reaches for his pistol and looks down, expecting some rabid squirrel or a fox but instead, finds a mangy-looking cat with white fur glaring up at him.

The cat shakes her head back and forth, clearly trying to kill him, which might work on a rat, but not his leg. He thinks about kicking her off but when he looks back over at the cabin, he has a spectator.

The witch.

With firewood in her hands and a curious look in her eyes.

"You wanna help me out here?" He asks, lifting his leg, and the cat stays attached to him, sinking her teeth further into his skin. Soarynn's lips twitch, almost a smile, "Petunia, come here."

Petunia, what a sweet name for an evil cat.

But Petunia, reluctantly, does as she's told, releasing his calf so she can trot back over to her owner.

Coriolanus rolls up his pants to assess the damage, only two tiny bite marks on his pale skin, a small price to pay. "I didn't know you had a vicious cat," he says, listening to Soarynn slowly approach him, "you should really train her to be nicer to people."

"Animals are excellent judges in character. They can sense bad intentions."

He swallows at those foreboding words, Petunia might be smarter than she looks. Coriolanus brushes the sick feeling off his shoulders and stands back up to his full height, immediately noticing how short Soarynn is compared to him. If it came down to a physical fight, he could easily take her.

"Well I just wanted to see you," he tells her, offering a boyish grin that always seems to charm the Capitol girls. Not the District ones apparently since she seems unaffected, "Why?"

Why? Why is she so apprehensive?

Coriolanus doubts she gets a lot of visitors out here, and if she does, it's because they want something from her. He's here with pure, good intentions.

You're here so you can watch Hoff hang her, the voice in his head reminds him and he quickly silences it. "I wanted to thank you," he lies, "and I brought you something, a gift."

Soarynn still looks doubtful, "A gift," she repeats. Coriolanus digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a lighter, one normally used for smoking cigars, but he hasn't ever smoked. His father did, and for some reason, he thought packing this item would remind him of home. It hasn't yet.

"It'll help you start fires," he explains, "or light your candles."

The lighter is a silver color with his father's initials engraved on the side. Soarynn's eyes light up at the sight of it, the sight of something so fancy, so Capitol. Maybe she is just a girl after all.

"Gotta put away the firewood first."

Coriolanus offers to carry the lumber but she declines, letting him trail behind her instead. Petunia climbs the steps with quickness, slipping into the house with ease, "How old is she?"

"She's about five," Soarynn answers, nudging the door open with her hip, "found her when she was just a kitten, nearly drowned in the lake. Guess her momma didn't want her. She keeps the rats away, people too."

Well, after that rude introduction, he's not surprised that other people avoid Petunia. She's like a guard dog. A guard cat.

The inside of the cabin looks cozier during the daytime with the light shining through all the windows. A warm breeze wafts through the room and for once, Coriolanus doesn't mind being in the middle of the woods.

Soarynn sets down the firewood and dusts off her hands, wiping them on her dress which is blue today. The dress is a dark blue, almost black, but it's got thin straps and is fraying at the edges. He wonders if she's ever gotten something brand new, a new dress, new shoes.

She looks over at him, still unsure about this Peacekeeper in her house, "Let's go outside."

꧁ ꧂

"Why's it say 'C.X.S' on the side?"

Coriolanus studies her face, almost forgetting to answer the question. She is so pretty it's not even fair. He can hardly focus around this strange girl. He clears his throat when she looks up at him, catching him blatantly staring at her, "It was um, it was my father's," he explains, gazing out at the lake instead, "those were his initials, Crassus Xanthos Snow."

Soarynn rubs her thumb over the letters, the letters that tie Coriolanus to a great legacy, "I can't take it then, it's too fine, too special to you." Coriolanus shakes his head, sure it's sentimental, but not special. Special would be his mother's compact, and that's safety tucked away in his locker back on the base.

"Keep it," he insists, closing his hand around hers, "it's not a gift, think of it as a token, a token of my affection." He's laying it on thick.

But Soarynn doesn't seem to mind.

"I didn't mean to scare you off the other night, I've got a knack for makin' people nervous."

His curiosity gets the best of him, and besides, this all counts as recon. "How can you do that? How were you able to read my palm? Did your mother teach you?" That would be the most logical answer, Coriolanus learned lots from his mother, and his father.

"No, my momma died when I was small, my daddy did too, except he died in the mines. I've always been this way, had this, this gift. Makes some people nervous, and when people get nervous they get mean. So I hightailed it outta there as soon as I could, figured no one would be missin' me if I left."

Coriolanus knows what that's like, to know you don't belong. Even though he did belong with the Capitol elite, the war took that from him, from his family. Being out here with her is proof that he'll do whatever it takes to get it back.

"That's terrible," he lies, "but why didn't you keep going? I've heard people talk about going north, trying to find District Thirteen or something else." Coriolanus doesn't really believe those stories, that there's something out there but who knows? He won't be the one to find out.

Soarynn shrugs, flicking the lighter so the flame appears, "Didn't wanna get too far from town, in case I needed somethin', and there's nothin' up there, just pearly white bones."

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus visits Soarynn more and more as the weeks pass by. He learns more about her and in the process, finds himself actually caring about her, which is even worse. He didn't intend for this to happen, for him to get this deep, this involved.

It's dangerous.

He plays it cool in front of the others though, acts tough and nonchalant. "I'm just doing my job," he had told Smiley the other day, shrugging off any insinuations that it might be something more, something worse.

Like love.

He's called in to see Hoff again, which is strange, normally he reports back to the Commander right when he gets back to the base. He keeps a neutral expression when entering the office, he's gotten more used to it over the weeks. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, close the door behind you, Private."

Coriolanus does as he's told, going over every single thing he's said and done in the past forty-eight hours that might be the cause of this sudden meeting. "Have a seat, Snow."

Coriolanus lowers himself into the chair, his knee bounces but he doesn't have the care to stop it, even if it is bad manners. "Now, I know you've been busy between this little witch hunt and doing your job, but my superiors and I felt that you could handle one more job, a task if you will."

Coriolanus sits up straighter, he never backs down from a challenge. Snow lands on top.

"Yes sir."

Hoff grins, sitting back in his chair, "You mentioned this witch was around your age, yes?" Coriolanus doesn't even remember mentioning this piece of information to Huff but he nods all the same, Soarynn is eighteen, one year younger than him.

"She is sir," he confirms, beginning to worry where this might be going.

"Ah, good. Well, before we bring her in so to speak, we wanted to ensure that we wouldn't be putting a child's life at risk."

Coriolanus is confused. So confused.

"A child, sir?"

Hoff clasps his hands, lacing his fingers together, a small smile growing on his lips, "She might be pregnant Private, goodness knows what she's gotten up to in those woods, and we both know that a girl like her would be more than willing to sleep with the first man she sees. Might even cast some sort of spell on him to trick him. Witches can't be trusted, you know. So, as a precaution, we want you to find out whether or not she is with child."

Hoff wants to know if she's ever had sex. He wants to know if when they drag Soarynn in, she'll be a virgin or not. Why he wants to know this, Coriolanus has no idea, but he can think of a few, sick and twisted reasons for this sudden and sick fascination.

"Go tonight," Hoff instructs, "supposed to be a full moon."

Coriolanus guesses that's supposed to mean something to him.

At the end of the day, he's a soldier, and a soldier always follows orders.

"Yes sir."

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| Part 1. |

{ Part 2. }

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[brrdhouse]

how would gideon act around soos and wendy, and robbie by extension?

my baby is still a manipulative, coniving little freak, so he originally likes soos because it's a little kid he can boss around. at some point though, he does get pretty attached. he starts calling soos stan's son as a way to egg on his uncle, but he really does see soos as a lovable younger cousin.

he thinks wendy's a riot. i like the headcanon that stan babysat for the corduroys when wendy was younger, so gideon's gotten pretty used to her over the years. he was the one who showed her how to get to the roof and a bunch of other ways to be rebellious around the shack.

i don't think he'd like robbie very much at first just because gideon has enough sass for the men of the shack and he just didn't click well with robbie. he doesn't tell wendy to stop dating him or anything because he's not her dad, but he does give her a shoulder to cry on/complain to after boyz crazy. all in all, not his business, but he'll help her clean up because she's still a fun kid.

gnomes in episode 1 (+ everything up to ep4)

while i do love my boy and want to plaster him everywhere i possibly can, he'd get introduced in 'the hand that rocks the mabel' like he is in canon, only in a different way. instead of being a freak, he's a monster-of-the-week that drives dipper crazy while mabel's entranced by his vaguely-gay aura. there's no amulet to break so the episode would just end with dipper finding out that this telekinetic guy that's been tormenting him for days is just his cousin that's been out of town for a bit.

pacifica debut / 'double dipper'

i think this episode would be the first time the twins would see stan and gideon get along. like gideon would make stan a cup of coffee or run errands for him, just something simple and nice as a birthday gift even if stan doesn't want people to know that it's his birthday.

he would either love or hate pacifica, and i'm thinking it's more of a "he loves to hate her" situation. stan would set him up as a bouncer to his little party (🐦 <- buff adult gideon truther) and gideon would just sort of watch everything go down but not really be plot-relevant.

i think he'd be nicer to her after the kids get friendlier with her, but that's a long way off.

fiddleford and the society of the blind eye

☹️

he doesn't remember fiddleford as fiddleford that well, but he has a soft spot for old man mcgucket after he reads back through the first two journals. when fiddleford digs through their trash or shouts in his face on the street, gideon'll just walk him back to the junkyard and maybe bring over some food the next day. he doesn't know if the man his father loves so much is in there anymore, but he'll keep tending to him just incase.

he has sort of a one-sided discomfort around tate just because.. well, he can read. the mcguckets are mentioned very briefly in journal 2 (headcanon) so he can put the pieces together and realize that tate's going through something as bad as he is. only difference is that fiddleford's going crazy right in front of him, instead of being dead or insane in space somewhere.

shifty

gideon would've interacted very briefly with shifty, but not enough to really impact him. when gideon gets a hold of journal 3, he can see his own scribbles of the scientists, shifty, and himself and feel a sense of overwhelming sadness that he was the only "experiment" that got to be normal. my boy can fit a little empathy in him, however short-lived.

the mystery shack

for most of the year, gideon probably wouldn't even be in gravity falls. i like making older gids a nomad, sue me! it's fun!

but when the tourist season rolls in, he drives back up to help his uncle. when he was little, he was "li'l mystery" and stan paraded him around as his ""son."" (gids is only a little resentful for it. he was a really cute baby, after all.)

his job is mostly managerial. help a little in the gift shop, schedule new orders, make sure soos knows his tasks for the day, all that. in rare moments, he'll stop stan and fix his tie or lapels with a snippy comment before stomping off to chat with wendy and make sure no one's hassling her.

it's pretty much the same after the kids show up, only now he's also around to make sure they don't get themselves killed. just because he's also an anomaly doesn't mean he doesn't know how dangerous it can be out in the woods, so he keeps an eye on 'em. (probably by making them wear little spy pins like in canon)

dreamscaperers / bill

i'm really stuck on bill, i'll be honest.

i think it would be fun to have gideon be a bit of a villain, meddling with forces he doesn't quite understand because he thinks it'll help him get ford back, but i've been mulling it over for a bit and just can't make a version of gideon and bill's deal that would:

make sense in the au.

end up in the same situation of getting into stan's mindscape.

so i gave up on that and decided that gideon knows who bill is (hard not to when your dad's house is practically an altar to the guy) and hates the guy.

he still has scars from when bill used ford's body to terrorize him as a toddler. stan knows about bill vaguely, but just that he's a demon that tortured his brother and nephew and none of the specifics because gideon was too young to remember a lot of it.

when gideon catches wind of mabel and dipper's involvement with bill, he wouldn't outright confront them, but he'd get a little more watchful of where they're going and what they're doing. he'd tell stan, and they'd both work that much harder on the portal because if they can get ford back, he'll be able to stop it because he has to. no matter how old gideon gets, that's still his dad, and to stan, that's still his older brother (even if it's only by a bit), and he's invincible in their eyes.

silly au from twitter:

+context lol

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[broken-clover]

Hope whatever's bugging you gets resolved, 1 + 7 ?

(it's just a whole bunch all at once, so it feels like whatever direction I turn in there's something that isn't working right so I can't not think about it. I genuinely appreciate your kindness, though, it's really helping)

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?

I'll admit I keep thinking about writing original stuff, part of the reason I don't is because the internet doesn't seem to like original stuff, especially in written form.

I have a concept for Oskar and his neighbors that's all about his daily adventures and all the weird people he meets (if I could describe it stylistically, imagine it as something sort of Chowder-esque)

I mentioned it offhand in the last ask, but the amnesiac android had his own story called 'Souji's Guide to Everything' that chronicled him regaining his memories and learning more about the partly-dystopian world he lives in and how he was made, framed through the lens of each chapter being a 'lesson' relearning something he had forgotten

It's not so much a story as a long stream of fix-it fics, but I've considered writing out a bunch of instances in depressing media where the Handyman does his thing of swooping in and pulling children out of whatever bad situation that canon put them in. It would be obscenely self indulgent and that's probably mostly why I haven't already done it.

Another concept was originally based on a bunch of MHA OC's that sorta shifted into its own thing, but still had the basic concept of more or less being an assisted living facility for people with Quirks/superpowers that have massive issues or side effects that impede their daily lives

And I'm probably never going to write it out proper since there's not much of a proper plot to speak of, but I've got a regular daydream whenever I'm not doing so well about my bunny lesbians Yuri and Yukiko in their very, very idealized daily life as sickeningly-sweet newlyweds raising their baby son Shuu

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is a house husband.

That's it, that's all it is.

As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.

Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.

Sam and Tucker on the other hand....

Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.

But they had one rule.

Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.

Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.

Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.

And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.

He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.

Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.

So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)

And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.

Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.

Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.

Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.

Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.

The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.

Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.

The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.

This is not the last they see of Danny.

When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.

[classyrbf]

we need shy freak I beggg, he ain’t seen this coming🙈

ᯓ★ FREAK LIKE ME! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...being the quiet girl sometimes has its perks and gojo satoru is in for a hell of a ride

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, quiet!reader, handjob, edging, kinda sub!gojo, dom!reader, establish relationship, reader reads smut/watches porn, overstim, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thanks for the request anon, I hope you enjoy!

Gojo Satoru was known for being the rich, handsome, popular kid who always had girls fawning over him everywhere he went. He’d get any girl he want just by flashing a smile and before he knew it, they’re panties dropped to the floor. College was fun when you were going out every other night, fucking this girl and that girl, because who cares? Surely not him. But one thing no one anticipated, not even Gojo himself, was getting a girlfriend who was quite literally the opposite of him. You were so adorable to him, different from the rest, too buried in your books and work to care about anything else going on.

Gojo noticed very quickly that you were the shy, quiet type. Everytime he’d try to kiss you, even compliment you, you’d turn away with a flustered look. “Awe, is my baby shy?” He’d chuckle, kissing your cheek. It was something he wasn’t used to at all, but he liked it.

You’d bought a new dress from the mall and Gojo demanded that you show him, practically pleading on his hands and knees when you shrugged your shoulders. Eventually you gave you in, walking out from the bathroom, hands clasped together and head hung low. “Do you like it?” You quietly asked.

“Like it? Baby, I love it! I’m resisting the temptation to just bend you over and fuck you right here!” His eyes widen in surprise. He chuckles at the way you turn your head away from him.

“Toru! Don’t say stuff like that! You scold him while hiding your face. Gojo thinks you’re the most innocent thing known to man, getting all shy over the smallest things. But what your clueless boyfriend didn’t know is that you weren’t some innocent, quiet girl who had zero clue about sex or intimacy in general. You watched porn, read smut, and fantasized about all the nasty things you wanted to do to your boyfriend.

It wasn’t until one day you decided it was time to get over your fears and show your boyfriend what he was missing out on.

“Baby—nnngh, ah—s-slow down…fuck!” His voiced cracked, head falling back into the crook of your neck as you pumped his cock from behind, his precum messily smearing over his length. “W-where—mmph—did this even come from?” He chuckled, hips stuttering when you squeezed the head of his cock tighter. His body slouched between your legs, chest heaving up and down. “You’re gonna make me fucking cum already!”

You wickedly giggled in his ear and Gojo absolutely has no idea how to feel in this moment. Who were you and what did you do to his sweet girl? “You’re leaking so much, Toru. You’ve been thinking about this, huh?” You darted your tongue out, licking a stripe on his skin. His entire body shuddered in your hold, eyes clenching shut when you ran your thumb over his throbbing red tip.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been thinking about it—hah!” He nods his head, his nails digging into the plush of your thighs as you bring him on the brink of his orgasm before slowing down your movements. “No, no, baby don’t tease me like that!” He whines, bucking his hips into your hand.

“You’re so needy! Does my pretty boy wanna cum?” You smirk against his skin, peppering small kisses from his jaw to his neck. He quickly nods his head, whimpering like a bitch in heat. Your hand firmly wraps around his throat and Gojo swears he’s sent to another planet. Where did you learn all this from? From who? From what? It’s like you switched personalities. But he loves it, craves it even.

“Oh my god,” he groans, eyes rolling back when you squeeze the base of his cock and slowly drag your hand up his shaft in circular motion. “Please, please, please,” he begs. His cheeks flushed a baby pink while drool forms at the corner of his mouth.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you? Already begging to cum.” You began to pump your hand faster, his legs shaking and hips stuttering. You wrap your legs around his, restricting him from moving any more than he already is.

His abs tense up, body jolting while his lewd moans echo off the walls of your bedroom. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna—shit, shit…gonna cum,” he whimpers. His brows in a concentrated furrow, too focused on the way your hand is wrapped around his thick, veiny cock. “C-cumming,” he’s barely able to groan out, his entire body going limp when you squeeze his throat harder. Your mischievous giggles send the blood rushing straight to his dick and milliseconds later spurts of his cum shoot from his aching tip. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” His hips are shaking, globs of cum coating his abs and your hands, using it as lube.

“You’re still cumming,” you chuckle, his hips writhing beneath you. Gojo has never came this hard in his life and his dick was still pulsating in your hand.

“S-so sensitive,” he cries out, gritting his teeth as tears form in the corner of his eyes. His breath hitches and he swears he could see stars in his vision.

“Want me to stop? Is it too much, baby?” Your sultry tone sends shivers down his spine. He shakes his head no, biting down on his bottom lip, a metallic taste filling his mouth. “That’s what I thought.”

a/n: y/n is boughta make me bust and I’m the one writing her lmaoo

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0

[evilminji]

You knooooowwww... >.>

The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...

Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?

How many people will dig deeper?

If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.

So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?

Well...

Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?

And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.

They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.

And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.

Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?

Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?

YOU COVER IT!

It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.

Danny was Not Prepared ™.

He loves it though.

Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr

If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.

He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.

Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!

He's probably gonna come back!

Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!

Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.

It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.

Who hired this man?

WHY!?

I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter

[keij0h]

⌗ LOVE ON THE BRAIN ┆ s.coups

Your husband's ideas can be so bizarre, yet you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like them.

CAUTION : profanities. smut warning. mirror sex. breast play. blowjobs. creampie. husband!cheol. afab reader. not proofread!

“Baby, what?”

That was your initial answer to Seungcheol’s question as he walked in your shared bedroom. Usually, you’d take some time to consider something like this, but unfortunately, the man you married can be so full of ideas sometimes.

And tonight, he’s taking you by surprise with another one in mind. You were in the middle of your nightly routine, when Cheol suddenly strided in, dropping the question with a straight face.

“I said, can I fuck you in front of the new mirror?” he repeats, looking eager for your approval.

All you could do was stare, processing the way he said it so casually. Although you weren’t against it at all, considering it’s been a while since you had time for yourselves, and well.. you suppose the mirror you ordered could be useful.

You scoffed, a small smile creeping up your face as you faced the vanity once again, your back now facing your husband by the door.

“Baby..” he mumbles as he approaches you from behind, sliding his hands between your shoulders, his lips finding its way to the crook of your neck, bribing it with soft kisses.

“Cheol..” you countered, mocking the way he said it. “You’re sulking again.”

“Please,” he urged, practically hearing the pout on his voice. “It’ll be fun, I promise. You can even lead the way..”

You chuckled at this, discarding his arms away as you turned around, now face to face with a pouty Seungcheol. You cradled his face with both hands, leaning in to quickly peck his lips, only for his pout to intensify.

“And I highly doubt you’ll ever let me be in charge.”

“I can make exceptions,” he suggested, nuzzling his cheek between yours, in hopes you’d just agree as he pressed his lips on your ear. “We’ll film it, if you want.”

Your eyes shot up as he said that, grabbing ahold of his shoulders to push him back, only to be met with a smirk on his face, his dimple subtly showing as you rolled your eyes.

“Where is this even coming from?” you huffed, letting him pull you closer to his chest, feeling the vibrations as he laughed.

“That’d be so hot, don’t you think?” Cheol mused in a low tone, his bribery only increasing each time he spoke. “Come on, just- just trust me, it’ll be so good, babe..”

You bit your lip, sighing. “And what do I get from this?”

“Free porn?”

Right.

The thing about you is that you could never say no to Seungcheol, not when he’s so skilled at making you want it. So who were you to refuse now?

“Easy,” you panted, holding onto his biceps as he attacked your neck with sloppy kisses. The part where he said you could take control? Long gone, along with Cheol’s shirt that laid on the floor.

Just like he promised, the semi-large mirror was settled on the floor, by the foot of the bed; just right for Cheol to see the view of your curves and back. And by the nightstand, was his phone, steadily recording every bit, mainly highlighting your front.

In a swift motion, your nightgown was off, revealing your plump breasts, watching as Cheol’s eyes dilated at the sight, mouth slightly agape as you straddled him.

“May I?” his voice was low as he kept his hand busy, fondling with your hardened buds, slowly rubbing his thumb against it. With no hesitation, you nodded, eager.

“Oh, god.” you breathed out as he took you in his mouth, squirming underneath him, slowly creating friction between his clothed cock.

You looked towards the device by the nightstand, seeing your twisted expression as Cheol sucked on your breast, toying with the other. Subconsciously, your hands found its way towards his back, gently digging your nails into his broad figure as your chest heaves.

Seungcheol hums in delight, the way his voice vibrates sends a wave of heat to your core. He pulls away with a pop, hazily looking at you with a smirk. He looks down, spotting your hand palming against the prominent bulge on his pants, you swore you could hear his breath shudder as you softly squeezed on it.

“Wanna take my cock, baby? Hm?” he coos, tilting his head to the side as you let out a small hum as a response.

Frantically, you pulled the fabric down, his length springing up, subtly spotting the leaks of pre-cum spilling out of the tip. Seungcheol reached out, grabbing the phone on the dresser, flipping the camera to get a view of you fisting his cock.

You gulped. Despite being together for years, you still often wondered if it would ever fit in your mouth.

He gazes towards the mirror behind you, biting his lip at the sight of your ass on display, letting out a groan as he groped on it with a small slap. His thoughts were already running wild with how good you’ll look from behind when you’re full of him.

You worked with so much intent, stroking your hand up and down as you pucker your lips, keeping your eyes at him while slowly taking his tip in.

“Oh, f-fuck.” he groaned, placing a hand on your head to push you down further. You hollow your cheeks, the girth gradually filling your mouth.

“Shit, taking me whole, yeah?” His phone was shaking with how much pleasure he felt, the sound of his groans and heavy breaths most likely dominating the whole video he was filming.

Soft moans emitted from you as you bobbed your head down in a rhythm, not taking your eyes off of Cheol’s pleasured state, eventually feeling the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Seungcheol grabbed a fistful of your hair, his hips almost perking upwards as you whimpered, fresh tears now threatening to fall down to your cheeks as you could feel him twitch in your tongue, a signal

“So— ah, fucking good f’me, baby.” he babbles, head thrown back, unware about the phone slipping from his hand as he felt his orgasm approaching.

Teary eyed, you caught the way his breathing hitched, signaling he was close. With one final stroke, you quickly pulled away, not giving him a chance to release his load as his height of pleasure disappeared.

You watched as his brows furrowed, fluttering his eyes open to you wiping the side of your mouth with a smirk, his fluids still on your chin.

Seungcheol scoffs, running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair. “Fucking tease.”

As much as how dainty he looked while you sucked him off, you knew better than to let him finish so easily. Besides, you had something better in mind.

“I want it inside.” Such simple words, yet it was enough to rile the man up, wasting no time in grabbing your arms, gently pushing you off his lap, now on his knees.

“On your fours.” he instructed sternly, to which you obliged immediately, only to be met with your own reflection on the mirror. You stared, following the way Cheol’s body leaned towards you, lips right on your earlobe with his eyes on the mirror.

“So, so pretty..” he hissed, scattering wet kisses on the side of your face, his free hand purposely leaving ghost touches on your aching entrance, teasing you.

“Cheol—“

“Shh.. relax, baby.” he coos, grabbing the tip of his cock, teasingly rubbing it against your glistening slit, expression full of pride.

You bit back a moan, your back arching at the sticky sensation. You hear a breathy laugh coming from Cheol, seemingly enjoying his way of torturing you for not letting him finish earlier.

“Seungcheol, please— ah..” you whined out, feeling him enter you so abruptly. So deep. Exactly the way you want it.

“Eyes up here,” he snapped his fingers, making you look up to the mirror. “Be a good girl and watch me fuck you, yeah?”

God. You swore you could cum just by hearing that. You intently watched as he moved, that firm grip on your hips never leaving as he pounded into you.

“Shit! I- just like that!” you could barely keep your eyes open as you screamed out, Seungcheol’s grunts overlapping with the lewd noises you were making. “Oh, god! So.. big.”

“Ah, baby, you’re gonna make me cum.” he twitched, suddenly feeling your walls clenching around him. You couldn’t see yourself properly with how dazed you are, though you were certain you looked pathetic.

But who could blame you? He was hitting all the right places, it’d be a total pain to stop now.

“‘m close.. so close, Cheol,” you muttered, barely a whisper but enough for him to get your signal as you uncontrollably clench around him.

“Gonna fill you up so good.” he hums, picking the pace up.

With a final whine, you released, right on his cock as he kept chasing his high, not missing the way he trembled before shooting his load inside of you, not letting a single drop go to waste.

“God..” you sighed out, collapsing face flat on the mattress, faintly feeling the load of cum leaking from your entrance.

“Hey,” you heard Cheol from behind, grabbing ahold of your shoulders to lay you right beside him. Regardless of everything, the glint in his eyes remained the same, together with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Did I wear you out?” he chuckles, placing a hand on your cheek. Your heavy breathing remained, weakly turning your head towards the mirror in-front of the bed, now getting a better view of your unkempt state.

From the reflection, you could see Seungcheol biting back a smile. You turned to land a glare at him, while his exhausted smile just widened.

“At least you still look good.”

“I hate you.”

a/n : it's friday then, it's saturday, sunday, WHAT???

[obsesssedblerd]

please please please, I need a part 2 to your loving dad Toji/ Preschool teacher reader fic💖💖It’s so good😭

"Who's your new teacher?" (Pt. 2)

Synopsis: Toji gets the phone number of Megumi's preschool teacher that he's been crushing on. [Pt. 1 here]

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft and a little shy, mentions of shiu, everyone is happy bc i said so

a/n: sorry that this took a while! also, barely proof-read. sorry for mistakes!

update: part 3 here

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

3:30pm, which means that it’s about time for the children to get picked up from preschool. Until they’re picked up by their parents, they run out any additional energy they have on the playground.

All except one. 

Instead of playing with the other kids, Megumi Fushiguro sits next to you at one of the tables of the playground with his dog plushie occupying the space beside him. He’s quiet, but relaxed and happy as he fills a page in the coloring book you bought for him and only for him. You notice him digging for a green crayon, and you hand one to him. His eyes light up as he accepts it from you. “Thank you,” he says softly. 

You smile at him. “Of course.” Your heart melts when the four year-old returns your smile, then goes back to coloring. Though you enjoyed all of your students, there was no doubt that Megumi was your favorite. According to some of the other teachers, Megumi barely spoke to anyone and always distanced himself. However, he loves being in your presence. He always lets you hold his hand when walking anywhere, or fix his hair,—you still wonder how it’s so spiky—and he talks to you the most. You enjoy his stories about his family, and his love for dogs.

“What are you drawing?” You ask when you notice that he’s drawing on a blank page instead of filling in the lines of the coloring book.

Megumi covers it and pouts slightly. “It’s a surprise. You can’t look until I’m done.” 

“Okay. No problem.” 

“Hi, Gumi! Hi, Ms. [Y/L/N}!” The familiar, happy voice fills your ears, and excitement swirls in your stomach. Tsumiki Fushiguro skips over to the table, putting her backpack down and gently hugging her little brother, careful not to disturb his coloring. Then, she wraps you in a hug, one that you happily receive. “Hello, sweetheart! How was school and soccer practice?” 

“It was fun! We’re going to have a game soon!” 

Your eyes scan the playground. If Tsumiki was here, then that meant that—

“Looking for me?” The low, smooth voice sends a small shiver down your spine.

There he is. 

You turn around and look up at a smirking Toji Fushiguro, who is without a doubt the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, muscular, dark hair with a scar on his lip, charming, and so gentle with his two kids. Behind him was his friend, Shiu Kong, who you had seen a couple of times. He would pick up Megumi if Toji was held up at work. 

“Yeah,” you answer as you release Tsumiki and stand up, mirroring his smile. “I was. How was work?” 

Though you enjoyed the activities of your job, this was your favorite part of the day. Nearly every afternoon for the last month and a half, you would spend some quiet time with Megumi during pick-up time, greet Tsumiki when Toji came, then spend at least twenty minutes talking with him while the kids played. A few of your coworkers picked up on how often you were smiling with him, and lightly teased you for having a crush. At first, you denied it, but when you caught yourself daydreaming about him for the umpteenth time while at work, doing chores at home, or before bed, you finally accepted it. 

“Work was fine,” he answers, then gestures to Megumi. “How’d he do today?” 

“He’s perfect, as always.” 

“Done!” Megumi springs up, then stands in-between you and Toji, raising his arms above his head to show you two the picture he was drawing. 

Toji smiles down at his son. “Aw, that’s sweet, Megs. What is it?” 

You look down to see four happy, smiling figures on the paper, and even though you can tell what they are, you still let Megumi explain them. “This one’s me,” he says as he points to the smaller figure with dark hair and t-shirt with a dog on it. Next is the taller girl beside him. “This is Tsumiki!” He tilts the paper towards his sister, who ‘awws’ in response. Then he smiles up at you as he points to the woman. “This is you, and then right here is Papa.” In the drawing, you’re wearing a brightly colored dress and standing next to Toji.

Toji peers down at what Megumi drew, and asks, “Hey, how come my cheeks are pink?” 

Megumi raises a brow, looking up at him in confusion. “Your cheeks are always pink when you’re around Ms. [Y/L/N],” he says matter-of-factly. 

Toji’s eyes widen, and Shiu turns around, doing his best to stifle his laugh. “That’s not— No, they’re not-” As Toji fumbles around his words, you catch it—the faint dust of pink on his cheeks, almost missed due to the sunlight on his face. 

You don’t point out the small detail that you’re also blushing in Megumi’s drawing. 

Toji’s phone buzzes, and he fishes it out to silence the notification. “Crap. We gotta get going. Megumi has a doctor’s appointment.” 

At that, Megumi whines and clutches your hand. “I don’t wanna go, papa.” 

Your heart squeezes at the utter fear in his eyes, and Toji kneels in front of him. “Megs, I promise, there’s no shots this time. It’s just a little check-up to make sure that you’re healthy.” 

You also kneel down, and the small boy wraps his arms around you. “Don’t wanna go,” he repeats, and he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, “it was scary last time.” 

“Aw, it’s okay, Gumi.” You rub a comforting hand up and down his back, then through his hair. “Your dad wouldn’t lie to you, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I understand how you’re feeling, though. Doctors can be pretty scary. How about this? Be brave during your check-up, and I’ll have a nice gift for you tomorrow.” 

Megumi looks up at you, and excitement replaces the fear that was in his eyes before. “A gift? What is it?” 

“You’ll have to see. It’s a surprise,” you say, and you watch as he takes a big breath to calm himself. “Okay.” He hugs you once more, and you see a relieved Toji mouth the words, ‘Thank you’ to you. 

As you help Megumi gather his things, you see Toji whispering to Tsumiki, who looks like she can barely contain her excitement. Once she’s ready, she bounces over to you. “Ms. [Y/L/N]?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“Papa wants to ask for your phone number,” then she lowers her voice to a not-so-quiet-whisper. “But he’s too shy. Also, can you come to my soccer game pretty, pretty pleaseeeee?!” 

Toji lets out a loud, mortified gasp. “Tsumiki, you were supposed to mention the soccer game and then the phone number— oh, my god.” He buries his face in his hand, and this time, Shiu Kong can’t hold back his laugh. 

You also laugh, then pat the top of her head. “I’ll come to your game, Tsumiki. I can’t wait to see you play!” 

“Yay!” She cheers, completely ignoring the fact that her father’s about to die of embarrassment. 

You approach Toji, who bashfully rubs the back of his head. “That completely backfired. I’m so sorry. If you don’t want to, I completely understand-” 

“No, I would love to. Yes to Tsumiki’s game, and yes to giving you my phone number.” 

He hands you his phone, watching you as you put in your number and texting yourself so you had his. You hand it back, then he effortlessly scoops up Megumi. “I’ll text you the details later.” 

“Perfect. See you soon.” 

Toji’s eyes soften, and he uses his free hand to push a strand of your hair out of your face. Your heart pounds fast in your chest, and your cheeks heat. “See you soon, doll,” he says.

You nearly stop breathing at the new nickname. As you wave them all goodbye, you let out a slow, blissful sigh. You got his number. Soon, you’ll be going to Tsumiki’s game, then maybe on a date with him, then—

You snap yourself out of it. Don’t think too far ahead. Focus on now. You can freak out about everything else later. 

Right now, you have to get a present for Megumi when he’s done with his doctor’s appointment.

------

tags: @sad-darksoul @binnieonabike @byul9158 @sugurubabe @namjooningera @xxkay15xx @eternallyvenus @chosoyukisgf

sorry if I missed anyone! went based off the replies in part one <3

[corroded-hellfire]

I just need pre-relationship AYW!Eddie all pent up and feral for Reader. I need him whimpering when he touches himself after Reader leaves for the evening. I need him trying to picture anyone else besides his kids’ babysitter but he keeps picturing Reader.

Your wish is my command! 😘

Warnings: male masturbation, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), older!eddie, babysitter!reader, the longing is real

Words: 2.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Go to sleep now,” you grumble playfully, ruffling Luke’s curls as he smiles up at you from his bed.

“One more story?” Luke asks, though his voice betrays how sleepy he already is.

“Come on, buddy,” Eddie says from the doorway. “She’s been nice enough to stay for dinner and read you two bedtime stories already.”

A smile that steals Eddie’s breath grows on your lips as you turn to look at your boss.

“You make it sound like such a hardship,” you quip.

“I don’t think your union allows for overtime,” Eddie replies.

You let out a soft giggle and Eddie feels his insides begin to melt. It’s catastrophically unfair, the effect you have on him. Not in his whole life has Eddie met someone who so effortlessly turns him on and makes his heart race. As impossible as it is to ignore the feelings, Eddie tries not to linger on them for a few reasons. One, you’re a complete pipe dream. There is no way you, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and hilarious you would ever see a man over a decade older than you in the same light that he sees you. Two, and which he admits is arguably the bigger reason, is that he’s married. Sure, it hasn’t been a real marriage in…God knows how long. But it’s still a legally binding marriage that he hasn’t even attempted to separate from. Not for lack of want, though. It’s hard to see a point when it would cause the breakup of his boys’ family, and for what? So Eddie could be all alone in some smaller unfamiliar home that he struggles to afford on his own while caring for his sons, only getting to see them half the time he does now? No. He basically is doing it all alone right now, with the lack of input from Brittany, but at least Luke and Ryan are in the home they know and the two combined household incomes can give them a pretty good life.

Unfortunately, all the logic in the world can’t cure Eddie’s addiction to you.

“Close your eyes, sleepyhead.” You stand up from the edge of the four-year-old’s bed and lean over to press a kiss to his forehead.

The way you bend down towards the boy gives Eddie a spectacular view of your ass. He’s forced to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to suppress the groan that so desperately wants to escape. As much as he internally chides himself, Eddie can’t tear his eyes away either. He gets so few chances to just look at you, that he can’t bring himself to cut this precious time short.

“Night night,” Luke says through a yawn.

“Night, pal,” Eddie says.

You boop your index finger against the little boy’s nose before standing up straight and heading in Eddie’s direction. The two of you exit into the hallway and Eddie closes the door almost all the way–leaving it open just a crack to allow some of the hallway light in.

The two of you are silent as you walk to the living room, both silently dreading that it’s time to part for the evening. You swipe your bag up from the couch and slip it onto your shoulder.

“I guess I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow,” you say, reluctantly taking steps toward the front door.

“Thanks for staying longer than you had to,” Eddie says, walking you to the door like always. He feels like he should add the words “for the boys” to the end of his sentence, but he can’t bring himself to. As much as the boys adore you, Eddie knows he is without a doubt the happiest one that you stayed for dinner and until bedtime.

“It was fun,” you tell him. “I always have fun here.”

“Always?” Eddie teases, raising his eyebrows. “Can I remind you that you said that the next time Luke has a meltdown?”

“Sure,” you reply with a chuckle.

The electricity in the air threatens to spark at any moment as Eddie reaches around you to open the front door.

“Drive careful, sweetheart,” he says.

“No,” you tease with a playful smirk. “I’m going to drive recklessly. Run all the red lights.”

“Don’t give me reason to worry,” Eddie mumbles, knocking his shoulder against yours.

“Aww,” you coo. “You worry about me?”

Heat rises to Eddie’s cheeks and he desperately wills it to move back down his body.

“Alright, smart ass.” Eddie wrinkles his nose up and pretends to shove you out the door.

With a laugh, you playfully stumble down the walkway a few steps, acting as if his push was that strong.

“Oh, fine!” you lament over-dramatically. “I’ll be a good girl! Bye, Eddie.”

A good girl. Suddenly, Eddie wishes that heat and blood would stay in his face instead of rushing to his groin like it currently is.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment you’re safely in your car and Eddie hears the engine start, he closes the front door and groans in time with the locking mechanism clicking into place.

“This just feels cruel,” he mumbles to himself as he rests his forehead against the cool wood of the door. He lets himself stand there until he hears your car rumble down the road and off into the night.

It takes a Herculean effort to push himself up and head deeper into the house. Out of habit, Eddie glances at the clock on the wall to see if Brittany will be home soon or not. It’s useless though—there’s never a set time she comes home. Who knows where she is or what she’s doing? Or who she’s doing. The pseudo-schedule the household used to follow has fallen by the wayside, so Eddie mentally tells himself to ignore it altogether. Easier said than done, of course.

When Eddie steps into the hallway it’s silent. No sounds of Luke sneaking out of bed to play with his toys or Ryan fumbling for his flashlight to read beneath his covers. Heaving a sigh, Eddie decides he might as well take care of the situation in his pants.

Despite Brittany not being home, Eddie locks the bedroom door behind him. Luke has also started the bad habit of opening any and every door without knocking first. So, better to be safe than sorry.

“Okay, think of someone else,” Eddie says to himself as he rids himself of his clothes. “Anyone else. Not her.”

It shouldn’t be hard to think of another woman to get himself off. Hell, for the entirety of Eddie’s teenage years, he could’ve jacked it to almost any woman and it would be great. Now he can’t seem to get this one specific, unattainable woman out of his mind.

He shucks the last of his clothes off and lays down on his bed, wracking his brain for someone who can get the job done. Julia Roberts? Nah. Jennifer Aniston? No. Cindy Crawford? Nope. Nicole Kidman? Maybe….no. Aunt Viv from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? The first, not the second one. Still no.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, letting his eyes fall closed as he wraps his hand around his semi-hard shaft. He licks over his lips and tries to let himself relax. The only way Eddie is going to be able to take care of this problem is to think about you and he knows it. He also knows he needs to hurry up if he wants to finish before Brittany comes home.

The mere thought of the woman who sleeps next to him at night has him softening slightly in his hand. A snort of laughter comes out, Eddie finding that humorous. Objectively, Brittany is beautiful, but knowing the rot and decay that lays just beneath the surface ruins any attractiveness Eddie could ever find in her anymore. Even though he already knows what will happen, Eddie immediately switches his thoughts over to you to see the effect. It’s instant. His cock comes to life at the very thought of your name.

No shit, Eddie thinks to himself as he opens his legs a little wider. Because she’s literally a fucking goddess. God, those eyes. Eddie’s hand grips himself a little tighter and moves down towards the base.

“Say you’re a good girl again, baby,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. Fuck, he can’t believe he was lucky enough to hear those words come from your lips. Jesus, he can hardly imagine being lucky enough to come home to you at the end of the day. Walking in the door after work and seeing you is already what he looks forward to all day, he can’t fathom how he would feel if you greeted him with a kiss and stayed there with him and the boys all night. And once the boys go to bed it’s time for some fun.

“Please.”

The word tumbles from Eddie’s lips but he’s not entirely sure what he’s asking for. You to be there with him? You to be by his side always? You to be here, naked, with your hand around him instead of his own?

Okay, Eddie thinks, shifting to make himself more comfortable. There we go, think about coming home to her.

He begins to slowly stroke his cock up and down.

Eddie imagines walking through the front door and kicking his boots off. Your voice hums sweetly from the kitchen and it brings a smile to his face.

“What smells so good, huh?” he asks as he strolls into the room.

The sight he’s greeted by is almost enough to bring him to his knees. You stand at the counter, facing him, an apron on and a bowl full of cake batter held in your hands.

“Welcome home,” you say.

Dark brown eyes follow your every move as you slowly dip your forefinger into the batter and pop it into your mouth. Eddie finds himself holding his breath as you slide your finger out from between your plush pink lips at a torturous pace.

As if the first time wasn’t enough, you dip your finger back in, but instead of putting it in your mouth this time, you point your finger up and stick your tongue out to lick every speck of vanilla batter off of it.

“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie moans.

With a soft laugh, you set the bowl down and look up at Eddie through your thick eyelashes.

“Funny. I was going to say that to you.”

A rough growl reverberates from Eddie’s chest as he moves forward to grab you by the hips. It’s only once he has his hands on you that he realizes not only are you wearing the apron—you’re wearing only the apron.

“God damn, baby,” he mutters. Calloused hands slide back just slightly and come into contact with your bare ass. He drops his head forward to rest against yours with a helpless whine.

You giggle, tilting your head up to brush your nose against his.

“I like the sounds you make,” you tell him, voice thick with lust.

Before he responds, Eddie presses a few gentle kisses along your bare shoulder and up the side of your throat.

“I want to hear your noises, too.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “I don’t think that’ll be very hard to manage.” You reach up with your left hand and tug on the tied apron string resting on the nape of your neck. The front of the apron falls down, leaving your entire torso exposed to Eddie.

A guttural groan meets your ears as strong hands grab you by the waist and help you up onto the counter. Immediately, you spread your legs and Eddie stands between them, the two of you fighting with the apron to get it all the way off you.

Eddie tosses it over his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling the two of your bodies as close as possible.

“Eddie,” you whine, reaching up to bury your fingers in his unruly curls.

“What baby?” His breath brushes against your lips, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Need you.” Using your grip on his hair, you pull Eddie’s face down to crash against yours.

Mouths meet, lips dancing, tongues exploring, and teeth clashing. Strong yet gentle fingertips dig into your skin, yearning to hold you as tight as humanly possible. Nothing is close enough.

Eddie pulls back just enough to playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Being such a good girl for me,” he rasps.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you run your nose along the edge of Eddie’s jawline.

“Wanna be so good for you. Wanna feel you, Eddie. Pretty please?”

A smug smirk grows on Eddie’s face as he reaches between your two bodies to unzip his navy blue coveralls. You shove the material down his hips as Eddie whips his white undershirt off over his head.

“Ready for me, princess?”

Eddie lines himself up with your entrance, glancing up at your face as he waits for your approval.

“God, yes!” You nod emphatically, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him inside of you faster.

Eddie grins at your eagerness, putting both of you out of your misery as he pushes inside.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Oh!” You whimper, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders.

The sweet little noises spilling from your lips only encourage Eddie. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back into your tight wet heat. It feels as close to euphoria as Eddie’s ever felt. He wants to spend forever between your legs, but it feels far too good to last long.

“Feels so good,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” Eddie asks. “Like when I…oh, fuck.”

Eddie doesn’t have time to imagine what he’d say next before hot cum starts to pour over his fist.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as his orgasm works its way through his body. His hand keeps going, milking his cock for everything that it’s worth.

Once he’s well and truly spent, Eddie lets his boneless body sink into the mattress. His arm flings over the side of the bed and his fingertips brush against his t-shirt laying on the floor. Blindly, he picks it up and wipes his coated hand off before wiping the cum off his abdomen, legs, and anywhere else it went.

“Holy shit,” Eddie sighs. His head falls to the side and his eyes slip closed. A goofy smile comes to his face as his mind returns to you. “Fuck, I’m so gone for her.”

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SEVENTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, degrading, mentions of death/blood, dove is called some nasty words, please heed warnings for this chapter masterlist a/n: girlbossed a little too hard and finished the chapter a day early. posting this after my 14 hour shift with nothing but hope and dreams. this chapter is a long one, i think the longest one so far, so have fun :p

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Up close, Graves was even more sinister than imagined. It was as if you were living in your own nightmare come to life, with beady eyes crinkling back at you as a curled smile stretched over his face. Adorned in all black from head to toe, with the only spouts of color being the mess of dark blonde atop his head, nearly covered by the old, leather pirate hat.

His skin was deathly pale, a feat you knew to be from his reaping sins. To take a life in return for a piece of his—a soul bind.

If he weren’t such a sick man, you’d dare say he’d been handsome, if it weren’t for the look of rotting to the core. His personality did no justice, something cocky and mighty. He knew exactly how to play his game, and he played it well.

In your turmoil, you dared to wonder if all of this was indeed another nightmare. Perhaps you were still asleep, stuck in an endless loop until Soap or Gaz awoke you as they always did; but with a sharp pinch on your thigh beneath the thin covers of Price’s bedspread, the world remained at ease.

This one wouldn’t be easy to get out of.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Graves mused, smile so wide you worried the corners would crack and bleed. You wished you could see him writhe like a helpless roach beneath your shoe. “Why the long face?”

“How—” You swallowed, fisting the sheets. “How are you here?”

Graves stood straight, glancing around the room. He pretended to ponder, holding his arms up to shrug. “I let myself in.”

Your eyes followed his every move as he slowly stepped throughout Price’s quarters, taking it in. You sat as still as a statue, completely frozen in place. The sound of his heavy boots along the wood floors rang alarm bells.

The air in the room fell icy cold, rising goosebumps on your skin. There was that frigid chill that felt as if you’d just stepped into a slaughterhouse, a hint of decay tickling your nostrils.

This was the feel of death you’d always felt, lingering behind you, watching. He’d always been there, even if only in your mind.

“Where is the Captain?” you asked, attempting to make your voice firm. Show no weakness—it was the very thing you’d been taught since your first day on the ship. You hoped Price would be proud that you remembered.

Graves’ eyebrows raised and while his smile remained, it only seemed to glimmer with excitement when the question was asked, as if you asked a dog if he wanted a bone.

“He truly has you on a leash,” he snickered, finding something amusing in all of it. “You’re like their little bitch, aren’t you?”

Your blood ran hot at the demeaning nature his words brought, but you knew better. They were for show, something to make him appear taller. If you fell for it, you’d only be digging a deeper grave for yourself.

“No,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I am a pirate, just as them.”

Graves barked out a laugh, one that made your ears bleed. It was meant to deplete your confidence, poisoned with arrogance.

“Is that right?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. “A pirate, are you?”

Graves stalked towards you, agonizingly slow, stopping when his knees bumped the side of the cot. He leaned down so his face was level with yours, empty eyes peering deep within your soul. His breath reeked of death and despair, nearly knocking you unconscious.

“I’d like to test that.”

His icy hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you out of the bed. With a yelp, you stumbled to your feet, bare of their shoes. The world beneath your soles felt foreign now, ever since Soap had given you your gift and you’d never take them off unless you were falling asleep.

The grip was tight, causing your heartbeat to thump through your muscles angrily. Your skin under his hand paled from the sheer force.

Graves tugged you along as you fought to resist him, squirming and attempting to plant your feet to the floor. Without the help of your shoes compared to his unruly strength, your fight was deemed useless. He continued dragging you, so much so you could feel little splinters begin to dig into your soles and invoke dull pangs of pain.

Fear filled your body from head to toe, your heart pounding against your rib cage. A lump filled your throat, coated with anxiety. Your mind filled with millions of thoughts, smothering any confidence you previously had and replacing it with the idea of death.

Was this where all would end? Your crew was one of the most feared among the seas, a healthy bounty placed over their heads. But there would always be one person above, and that person was Graves.

Every kick, bump, resist was fruitless as Graves hauled you to the door. What lay beyond it terrified you, images of your men dead flashing before your eyes.

Coated in their own bloodbaths, bodies laid limp amongst the floors of their own homes, sprawled out as if they meant nothing. Oh, you couldn’t bear it. You’d have to go, too—you’d have nothing left.

When Graves opened the door, you weren’t sure if the sight was any better.

It was dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky, granting no room for light. A single lantern was all that was left to cast orange shadows, its fire flickering in a dance for a way out.

Your crew was lined shoulder to shoulder, on their knees in a submissive front, hands bound with thick rope behind their backs. Graves’ men, his Shadows, held the barrel of their guns to each of their heads.

Though the sight was an improvement from what you initially prepared yourself for, it was far from good. It was bordering those images, a glimpse into what could be a massacre.

The moment you were out of Price’s quarters, Graves let go of you, shoving you. You lost your balance, tumbling to your side, your head slamming into the deck. Pain blossomed under your skull and you hissed in pain.

“Dove?” you heard one of them call out. Your head spun, making it hard to figure out who it was.

A heavy blow landed on your side where you lay, and you wheezed, Graves’ boot unexpected. It kept you in place, applying pressure to guarantee you wouldn’t try to flee and fight back.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Price growled. You could recognize it, filled with a burning venom that dared to kill anyone that was in its crossfire. “This has nothin’ to do with her.”

“It’s all to do with her,” Graves spat, digging the toe of his boot into your rib cage. His previous cockiness had melted away, revealing his boiling rage. “Isn’t that right, dove?”

Graves lifted his boot, granting you a brief moment of relief before it slammed back down. It knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you croaking out a plea to stop.

You coiled in on yourself, curling into a ball in attempts to lessen the damage. It did nothing to stop his boot from weighing on your side. The pain felt like nothing you’d experienced before, and you were sure you felt a bone crunch.

“Dove,” Gaz called out, frantic. He tried leaning forward to get a glimpse of your face, to search for your eyes, but the barrel of the gun only pressed deeper into the back of his skull in warning. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.”

Your eyes were widened with fear, chest heaving to catch the breaths that were stolen from you. You couldn’t move, frozen in place, even as Gaz called out for you with the threat of a bullet through his head.

“I don’t know what you’re plannin’, Graves,” Price snarled, “but this is between us.”

Graves laughed diabolically, throwing his head back. It only made everything much more tense.

“Isn’t she apart of you now?” Graves humored, cocking his head. His fingers drummed along the gun in its holster on his hip. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s a pirate. I believe those were your words, Price.”

The realization that Graves knew had you going cold. The closer he got, the stronger the connection became.

“What the hell is it ye want?” Soap asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were darting back and forth between your crumpled form and Graves. “S’always somethin’ with ye, aye?”

Graves eyed Soap, a glint in his gaze. There was something unfamiliar in it, as if he held a personal grudge towards the man in question.

“There is something I want,” Graves agreed, letting out a dramatic sigh. He tapped at the gun once again, staring up at the sky in thought. “I think dove here knows exactly what that is.”

Graves dug his boot once again, peering down at you as if you were scum. You couldn’t stop the small whimper from the agony drumming in your side.

“Go on, dove,” Graves taunted, grinning. “Tell them.”

“I don’t know,” you panted. You were unfocused, eyes staring at the old floor from where your head rested.

You tried recalling what it is he could want, anything at all, but nothing was becoming clear. You scavenged through the deepest parts of your brain for even a simple clue, but the blows had made you dazed.

“I swear, I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

“You do know,” Graves repeated, cutting off the Captain. His tone grew annoyed. “Think real hard, dove.”

“I don’t know,” you cried, shoulders beginning to shake. All the built up confidence to fight back had vanished into thin air. Now, you felt like a scared little girl, begging for mercy.

Graves’ boot lifted, then returned back down. A string of curses were thrown his way from your crew, who were thrashing in the binds, unable to aid you under the lineup of guns to their heads.

You felt wetness cascade down your cheeks, dampening your skin and falling down to the side of your head from the angle you laid. It was then you realized you were crying, embarrassingly so.

Only mere hours ago you were deemed a pirate, and yet at the start of war, you fell apart like a damsel.

“The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. It was the first he’d spoken, only sitting there silently as you were beaten down. His head hung low, as if ashamed, though the darkness in his eyes was enough to cast doom across entire continents. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.”

You blinked away the tears, eyes burning. Realization dawned on you the moment Ghost spoke. Through your huddled position, you tried to tilt your chin down to meet his eye. As if thinking the same thing, he lifted his head, connecting your gazes. You could see that familiar apology pooling out of him, expressing everything he needed to say.

Washed away to land and shore,

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

The telescope you found for Gaz was an innocent gesture. The sight of it called out to you, as if meant to be owned by you. If you would’ve known it was Graves it was calling, you would’ve thrown it into the deep sea so it could never be found again.

“So he speaks,” Graves mused sarcastically.

Ghost broke contact first, eyes boring into Graves. He looked murderous, plotting his own bloodbath with just a simple look. The dim light of the single lantern did nothing to lessen the ominous glow, only highlighting it.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. The look of pure disgust was such a contrast to his normal, boyish grins.

Graves paid no mind to him, stuck in a contest with Ghost. The two of them had a dark force swirling between them, one that even outside made the air heavy and suffocating.

“A point for your bravery, Ghost,” Graves sighed dramatically, breaking his stare. He looked between each and every man, sparing you no glance while his boot remained in place. “My telescope. Give it to me, and I’ll let her go.”

You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, who seemed to be struggling with a decision. You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, unknowing of who it truly belonged to. It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“I have it,” Gaz said lowly, head bowing. “It’s in my quarters. I’ll take you to it.”

Graves sucked his teeth, feigning pity. He shook his head, hand fully resting on the gun at his hip. “Not going to work on me, Gaz. I’m quite capable of getting it myself. You sit tight, aye?”

Gaz stiffened, expression growing grim. Nevertheless, he said nothing, deciding silence was the best contender for a fight bound to end in loss.

Graves gestured for the man behind Price to fetch the telescope from Gaz and Soap’s shared quarters. Price didn’t tear his eyes away from Graves once, even as the Devil of the Seas took out his own gun and pointed it right at Price’s forehead.

He pressed the barrel of the gun into Price’s forehead, indenting the skin. It was a snug fit, a perfect shot for Graves if he wished to end things the easy way.

Graves didn’t like it easy. He liked it fun.

“Scared we’ve caught on to your trail, aye?” Price bluffed, voice gravelly and malicious. “That’s why you came out here like a fuckin’ mutt, hidin’ in the storm until you found the right time to ambush us?”

“You have your dove to blame,” Graves replied nonchalantly, rubbing his boot back and forth along your side. The pressure had you sucking air through your teeth, eyes clenching shut. “She might be your new toy, but she’s just as much a mutt as I am.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Price snarled, body shaking with feverish rage. If he could pounce on Graves, you knew he would.

“Looks like you finally grew some balls, Captain,” Graves snickered, pulling back the hammer of the gun. It resounded a loud click, which translated to a warning bell in Price’s favor. “Such anger. That anger has never worked for you, Price. It didn’t work for Ghost—it won’t work for her.”

Price let out an animalistic growl, his lips pulling back in a sneer. You’d seen the Captain angry, and you’d seen him under the guise of a scary, ominous pirate who would kill any innocent bystander that stood in his way.

This was entirely different. This was personal. A build up. This was a storm that had been coming for ages, and you were only toeing the edges.

The Shadow returned, holding the telescope you’d gifted Gaz. It shimmered in the lantern’s glow, glinting its gold details and showing it off. It felt like a goodbye.

“I’d be real careful from now on, Graves,” Price warned. It was the first you ever heard him speak so menacingly, like the demon inside of him was erupting with a stream of hot lava filled with nothing but spewing hatred. “When I find you, I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself. String you up on my sails until you’re dry, toss you into the ocean to the sharks. I’ll take pleasure in watchin’ you burn until there’s nothin’ left but ash and dust.”

Graves took the telescope from his Shadow’s hand, inspecting it. The words Price spoke clearly struck a nerve, for the arrogant grin had vanished, replaced with a gloomy, threatened expression.

“Hm,” Graves huffed, letting his gun fall and placing it back in its holster. He signaled for his men to follow suit, and you watched as all weapons dropped. “I await the day that happens, Captain. Until then, keep your mutt on a leash, aye?”

Graves made no effort to untie the crew, leaving them bound as he gathered his men to walk the plank connecting the two ship. A long, woden plank that creaked under the weight, one od wish you could kick from its balance and send them flying into the dark sea.

The moment was brutally silent as they left. Nobody moved a muscle until Graves was on his ship, the plank pulled from its placement, and the skull flag waved goodbye as they set sail into the pit of the night.

Time stood still, but the second Graves and his crew were hidden in the waves, all hell broke loose. Price and Gaz worked together to unbind each other with their backs to one another, frantic to be released. Ghost sat silently, eyes staring into the floorboards as if they’d speak to him.

“Say somethin’, dove,” Soap begged, scooting on his knees to be by your side.

As if the dam broke, you began to cry once more, heartbreaking sobs coming right from your core. You curled up tighter into your ball, your hand resting on your side as if it would magically ease the pain.

“It hurts,” you replied, voice cracking.

You’d stayed strong up until that point. Now, you couldn’t hold up your front.

You were scared. You felt more helpless than ever. You couldn’t remain strong for the sake of pretend anymore. Everything hurt, and Graves’ presence shook you to your very core.

“I know,” he cooed. He made a frustrated noise when he struggled against the binds. “I know, dove. We’re right here, alright?”

It felt strange, being on the other side of the spectrum. You were used to being the one to aid people in their injuries, but now, it was you being comforted. You couldn’t grasp what your life had become.

Price was released from his binds, quickly helping Gaz slip out of his. While Gaz made quick work to move to work on Ghost, Price was by your side in an instant.

One hand rested on your hip, turning your body towards him while the other found your face, resting his palm on it. His eyes were filled with worry when you faced him and he urgently wiped at your tears with his thumb.

“Dove,” he breathed in relief, his heart aching at the sight of you so broken. This was his fault. “You’re okay, I have you.”

You whimpered when he shifted so he could slide his arms beneath you, one under your shoulders and the other in the bend of your knees. The movement flared pain all over again, and Price murmured apologies, unsure of what to do.

He hurried to his quarters, his men following closely behind like scared dogs with their tails between their legs. Gaz held open the door, and you only caught a glimpse of his guilt-stricken expression before you were ushered in.

Price carefully slid you on to his cot, wincing every time you whimpered or cried. The pain felt excruciating, your breathing quick and labored.

“She needs a medic,” Soap stressed.

“She is a medic,” Gaz reminded, resting his hands on the edge of the cot so he could lean over and inspect your face. “We have no help besides her.”

“Well, she can’t treat herself, ye fuckin’ oaf,” Soap snipped, shooing him away from your space. “Cap, she needs to get checked. She can’t even breathe properly!”

Your head began to pound from the sheer loudness that filled the room. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache while simultaneously trying to correct your breathing.

You knew well enough that there was something shattered or broken. A rib, though small in theory, but dreadfully painful without the correct medicines. Not to mention the amount of force Graves had used—it was pure hell.

Price was silent, as was Ghost, the two of them sharing a conversation with just a look. There was an understanding shared, and Price gently shoved Gaz and Soap aside, replacing them.

He mimicked Gaz’s previous stance, leaning on the bed. His hand came to brush a stray tear away, frowning embedded in his mouth.

“Tell me what to do, dove,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever it is.”

You sniffled, hand shaking where they rested on your side. You shook your head, nearly deranged from the shock and horror of it all, unable to snap out of it.

“I—I can’t fix it on my own, Captain,” you quivered, lips trembling. “It hurts.”

Price nearly broke, filled with guilt. He glanced behind him at Ghost, who quickly looked away, hands balling into fists.

“I know,” he assured calmly, brushing his finger along your cheek where he wiped the tear away. “We’ll fix it, aye? You just have to sit tight until we can. Can you do that for us, dove?”

Though you knew the wait would be cruel—a slow healing process until you could receive proper care—you found yourself nodding shamelessly, instantly trusting Price and his promises.

Price nodded along with you, giving your cheek a comforting pinch. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves.

“I’ll fuckin’ gut him,” Soap muttered, jaw pulled tight. “He’s fuckin’ dead.”

Gaz reached up to grip Soap’s nape, tugging at his hair. Soap threw him a glare, one Gaz promptly ignored, turning his attention to you.

“Listen to Cap, birdie,” Gaz encouraged warmly. “We’ll get you all fixed up. You won’t even know you’re hurtin’.”

Price had a look of hesitation when you caught his eye. You furrowed your eyebrows, frowning in confusion before he spoke again, causing you to grow uncomfortable.

“We need to check it first, dove,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t feel well with all of us bein’ here, you can pick who you prefer. No hard feelin’s, hm?”

The idea that one, if not all, had to see you undressed in order to inspect the damage was one that made you a bit dazed. You’d never been seen beneath your raggedy clothes in the village, and the same applied for your time on the ship. It felt sacred, like your vulnerability was on the line, but you had to remind yourself that it was purely medical—you’d done it plenty of times when in practice at your old home.

“It—it is fine, just… just turn away, yes?” you pleaded, unable to meet any of them in the eye.

You heard a round of shuffling, only seeing Gaz elbow Soap in the corner of your vision. Once you were sure they feasted their eyes upon the old wall, you began to carefully lift your hips, biting your lip to muffle the pained noise that threatened to leave.

The hem of your dress was swiftly pulled up past your thighs, all the way until your torso was exposed. You stopped it beneath your breasts, quick to tug the blanket over your nakedness that remained uninjured and in no need to be checked.

The anxiety that pooled in your stomach left you queasy, but you toughed through it, knowing how important it was. If you had more than a mere fracture, it could become worse over time.

“Okay,” you said quietly, cringing when they turned to take you in. The men did their best to make you feel as at ease as possible, gearing their focus towards the nasty swelling on your side.

You dared to take a peek yourself, fearing for why they were so quiet. What you saw was ugly—swollen and puffy, beaten to the point it was already turning purple and blue. It was tender to the touch, even more so without clothing as a barrier.

The worst was the gnarly, black veins that spouted out like roots, dipping deep into the new bruising. It was inhuman, something completely out of the ordinary. You knew it was Graves’ dirty work, and it reminded you of when Ghost had cut his finger in the kitchen and his blood turned black, vanishing into thin air.

When you shifted your eyes from your injury, you searched for Ghost’s, who was hard-stuck on the veins. His body was tense, a darkness swirling in his irises.

“Ghost?” Soap tried, nudging the brute lightly. “Any idea what that is?”

Ghost glanced over to Soap before returning to your side, taking in the sight. “Could be anythin’,” he muttered, unsure. “I don’t know what all he’s capable of. For all we know, it could already be infected.”

“Infected?” you asked, a worried chill racking through you.

Price reached out a careful hand to spread his fingertips along the veins. You choked on a gasp at the immediate discomfort, face scrunching up into a wince.

“We’re goin’ to a doctor,” Price nearly growled, taking his hand away. “I don’t care where. The moment we spot land, we’re goin’.”

“We still have bounties on our head, Cap,” Gaz reminded with a frown. “We can’t just go anywhere. It’s not the same as shoppin’. If we end up in the wrong place, we might get ourselves in deeper shit.”

“That is a risk I’m willin’ to take,” Price argued, firm in his stance. “If we start nitpickin’ where to go, it might be too late. You’re either in or out.”

The room fell silent as the men stared at their Captain. The answer to them was obvious, though you knew why they hesitated; if they were imprisoned, it would do you no good.

Emotions were high and the clock was ticking. It placed everyone on edge.

“I agree with Price.”

All heads turned to Ghost, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes boring into yours.

“It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished.

“Ghost—” you tried.

“I am quite firm in what I’ve decided,” he interrupted harshly before realizing his mistake, calming himself down. He looked away from you, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “I’m in no mood for arguments.”

You went quiet, watching Ghost turn towards the door and plot his escape. You knew out of everyone, he was affected the most, tormented with sickening guilt for all that’s transpired. You could only imagine how he felt, now that times had grown darker.

“Let him go,” Soap murmured softly, gaining your attention. “He’ll be alright. Let’s just worry ‘bout ye, aye?”

You were torn, but you nodded nonetheless, silently agreeing.

“You’ll stay with me for now,” Price explained. “No use in movin’ you anymore than I have. I’ll get you situated for now, and then you can rest.”

Gaz, Soap, and Price muttered amongst themselves, discussing a brief plan of what to do. The two set off to find more pillows to extend your comfort while Price remained by your side, plopping himself in his chair with a heavy sigh. His elbows rested on its arms, his fingers coming up to rub at his temple.

He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent the longer you looked.

“I am sorry, Captain,” you said quietly, eyes glueing to the ceiling.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” he asked, frowning. “Got nothin’ to apologize for, dove. Our worry stems from care.”

“Yes, but,” you paused, gathering the words, “I have caused much trouble since my arrival. Things only seem to be harder for you.”

“Life was hard before you, dove,” he assured, letting his hand fall from his face. “That’s the way it goes. It is to no fault but the world.”

You took in his words, letting them sink in. You hadn’t known a true life of trouble before, the only hardships being your utter loneliness and daily taunts from the local villagers. This was something beyond your knowledge, and you were beginning to understand that there was more to life than simply displeasuring people. There was more than what meets the eye, but there was also light at the end of every tunnel.

“You do not see me as a mere burden?” you asked, and he huffed.

“What have I told you before?” Price pressed in return, tilting his head. “You are one of us. A true pirate, if that is what you’d like.”

“I am far from a pirate,” you scoffed to yourself, ashamed. “I could not even defend myself or any of you.”

“Dove,” Price called out softly. He scooted his chair closer to your bedside, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “A loss is not always a failure. Some wars are too big to handle on your own. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. Why must you speak so lowly of yourself?”

You stared at him unblinking, studying the furrow of his eyebrows and the curl of his lips, hidden beneath his beard. The worry lines on his forehead showed years of hardship, and you wondered how he managed to live through it if you could barely survive your own smaller ones.

“I have known nothing else,” you confessed bitterly, though not towards him. You were angry, not only with yourself, but at life for dealing its deck of cards in such an unfair way.

“I see,” he hummed, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his fingers along the armrests, getting lost in thought. “It was the same for me as well.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he sighed, picking at the splintering wood of the armrests. “My father was a captain before me. Had the tongue of a devil. Always angry, always cold—treated me like scum, even as a child.”

“I am sorry,” you murmured quietly. Price bristled, frowning.

“That is not the point, dove,” he replied. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed, mere inches away from where you laid. You waited patiently for him to continue, keeping your gazes connected to show you were listening. “Some may treat you like a mutt on the street and deem your worth how they please. The only thing that matters is how you take it and how you come out of it.”

It dawned on you what he was implying. It was his way of comforting you, shielding you from your own burdening insecurities that never seemed to escape your mind.

“I could’ve remained angry and bitter, but now I captain my own ship and crew. The same applies for you—you may have experienced cruelty all your life, but you must take the reins on your own worth and decide what it is, dove.”

A blinding warmth shrouded you, like a blanket after being trapped in the icy cold, and you welcomed it with a smile. You’d never known Price to be so well with words, not int he way he was expressing now.

He knew what you needed to hear after being trapped in your own world of darkness, and he provided the light you needed to find your way out—all of them did. A glimmer of hope in a world full of loss.

“I am very thankful you kidnapped me,” you blurted, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

Price laughed, boisterous and loud, a smile washing over his face. It was a lovely sight, one that made your heart pound. Even through your pain, you found solitude in the aftermath, reaching a level of comfort you’d always wished to feel.

“I am happy to have you here despite it,” Price teased warmly. “I can say the same for the rest.”

You laughed, almost immediately regretting it at the shooting pain coursing in your side. He shot you a sympathetic smile, slowly standing from his chair.

“I will let you rest,” he said, giving you a gentle pat to your thigh over the blanket. Your heart jumped at the action, and you repressed it.

“You are not staying?” you asked, deflating.

“Soap and Gaz will be here with some more pillows soon. I must gather a plan so we can get you to a medic as soon as possible.”

It made sense, and you knew it was important. There was no telling what was flowing through the black veins, but your heart longed for more of his presence.

“Just for a moment longer?” you dared to request, voice small.

Price peered down at you from where he stood over you, a hint of surprise flashing on his expression before it softened. He nodded, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. You held on as long as you could.

“Just a moment then,” he repeated. “I will do it for you.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling as if you were on cloud nine. Your feelings were uncertain, but the more you spent with them, the clearer your vision became. It was an inner battle, forcing yourself to push them back in order to protect yourself. Now, though, you decided to allow yourself the comfort, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” you told him, unaware your voice had become a mere whisper. The air between you felt heavy, as if something unspoken was there.

Price glanced down at your hands that remained interlinked before shifting his gaze back at you. The gears in his mind were turning, and just as you were about to ask if it was alright, he beat you.

“I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.”

You froze in place, eyes growing wide. You were unable to look away, lost in your own little moment. Everything in you was yelling yes, yes, yes! and it was hard to ignore. You had always been weak in your feelings.

“Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” you said, unsure of why you did. “I hope that is okay.”

Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.”

You released a relieved breath, a shaky smile spreading on your lips. Price did not seem angry, and for that, you grew more enticed for a kiss. While your feelings for the others were all different in their special ways, having Price be the first was not something you could deny. It excited you more than it should.

Before you knew it, Price leaned down, capturing your lips in his own. There was no spark like you’d read in books you’d read at merchant stands when you couldn’t afford them, nor were there fireworks.

Instead, it was a calm sea that smothered you in peace, easing every worry that crowded your mind. They washed away, replaced with a warm buzz.

He was gentle, hand still grasping yours, the other coming to rest beneath your jaw. His skin was hot to the touch, rough from the callouses on his palm.

The moment wasn’t long, and when he pulled away, you wished you could reel him in for more.

“Rest,” he encouraged, his smile brighter than a thousand suns. “We’ll get you fixed up and better before you know it, alright?”

You nodded dumbly, your head empty. You were practically vibrating with excitement, the feel of his lips still tingling on yours.

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone before pulling back, stepping away from the bed. He gave you a soft farewell, reminding you that the boys will be back soon and to try and sleep until then.

Once he was out of the room, the quiet didn’t bother you. It wasn’t maddening, driving you up a wall, suffocating you with loneliness—it was peaceful and kind, welcoming you with open arms as you slipped into unconsciousness, the images flashing behind your eyelids of the four of them in your life only bringing you true comfort after the storm.

[leqonsluv3r]

bfd!leon kennedy headcanons

—bfd!leon kennedy x fem!reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist prompt game

bfd!leon kennedy who meets you when his daughter comes home from college for the summer. he thinks your beautiful instantly but he knows that you’re very young. so much younger then him. he can’t act on it. no matter how much he wants too.

bfd!leon kennedy who watches as you unpack some of your stuff to stay in the guest room for the summer, watching you and trying not to seem to obvious about it. the way your ass strains against your jean shorts…no, no. he can’t think of that. despite how good you look bent over like that.

bfd!leon kennedy who picks up a couple things from the store for you and his daughter. only wanting the best for his little girl. but he also wanted the best for you too, that’s why he bought all your favorites. it’s secretly fun to watch you when he opens the grocery bags, seeing your eyes light up.

bfd!!leon kennedy who sits next to you one afternoon, watching a movie on tv with you. his daughter had left you to go run some errands in town. he hadn’t been alone with you up until this point and it was making him antsy, almost nervous at how close you were to him. like you could. just reach out and touch him…just move your fingers two inches closer to his.

bfd!leon kennedy who feels you rest your head on his shoulder in the middle of the movie, your thigh pressed against his. it shouldn’t have the effect it has on him but it does, he feels your hand resting on his thigh, right near his groin. he tried to stay focused on the movie but your hand was so close, it just needed to move up a couple inches.

bfd!leon kennedy who tries to ignore all the guilt he has for you being so much younger then him. he’s older, he is not the man he used to be. but that apparently doesn’t phase you. your hand palms his erection over his jeans with your pretty manicured nails and suddenly it’s 10x harder for him to find a reason not to flip you over and fuck you senseless on his couch.

bfd!leon kennedy who lets you suck him off on his couch while the forgotten movie plays in the background. your head moving up and down as his fingers weave into your hair, gently guiding you. he tries to resist the urge to buck up into your mouth but he holds back. he doesn’t want to scare you or worst of all, hurt you. you take his dick like a champ, sucking on him like a lollipop as you look up at him from under your eyelashes.

bfd!leon kennedy who finishes in your mouth and makes you swallow all of his cum. praising you with, “you did so well, sweetheart” to “such a good little slut for daddy”. it seems to have the desired effect, your pupils blown wide as you gaze up at him. he wipes his thumb over your bottom lip, clearing any saliva or his release off your face before pulling you up to meet his lips in a slow languid kiss. and one thing is for sure when he’s kissing you; he’s definitely going to hell.

bfd!leon kennedy who in the days following will find the time to fuck you. whenever his daughter is off doing something and you have no plans, he fucks you. either bending you over the kitchen counter, the guest bed, the couch, the kitchen table…anywhere he can bend you over and fuck you. he’s doing it. no questions asked. but that’s not the only thing he does.

bfd!leon kennedy who lets you suck him off whenever you want. he could never deny you that when you look so pretty doing it. on your knee’s in front of him, looking up at him through your thick lashes as you bring him to the edge. he has never seen a more beautiful sight then that.

bfd!leon kennedy who eats you out, he’s not the only one getting oral pleasure after all. he loves eating you out until your practically crying for him to stop. he could do it for hours, hearing you scream his name over and over, hearing you whimper and whine. the feeling of your manicured nails digging into his skull practically sends him through a spiral in his old age. every time he’s between your thighs, he swears he’s died and gone to heaven.

bfd!leon kennedy who lets you call him daddy when he fucks you. he doesn’t know why it gets him so turned on, the most taboo thing in the book. but he lets you do it, hearing it echo out of your pretty pink lips as he fucks his length into you, will never not get him closer to climax. letting you call him daddy during sex is probably one of the best decisions he’s ever made, right next to fucking you to begin with.

bfd!leon kennedy who starts to feel things. things he hasn’t felt since his wife left him, he loves you deep down. he’s gotten attached and he doesn’t know if you feel the same. because why would you? you guys just fuck. plus, he’s older. he’s well into his late 30’s by now. and your such a vibrant young woman, he doesn’t want to hold you back at all. doesn’t want you to regret life if you choose to stay with him, if he confesses and you feel the same.

bfd!leon kennedy who is oblivious to the way you feel about him. summer is almost over. how are you supposed to tell him how you really feel? and what if he turns you down, tells you your too young for him. you don’t want to think about it, about what he could possibly say to you when he tells you no, or if he does. but you need to take the risk, even if it ends up hurting you or embarrassing you.

bfd!leon kennedy who cuddles with you in his bed one night. the tension between both of you thick to cut with a knife. you just open your mouth and tell him, not brave enough to turn around and look him in the eye but admitting your feelings all the same. you feel his arm tense and flex where he holds your stomach, but you continue telling him anyways as things hang in the air. you wait a couple agonizing minutes for him to reply. your heart thudding in your chest as you wait for what could make or break your future.

bfd!leon kennedy who hears your confession in the intimate air of his bedroom, after dark, his heart thudding in his own chest as you list off a confession, you want to be with him. you love him, you don’t care that he’s older and just all the glue that makes him feel better about being in bed next to you. your words soothe a balm over his soul and his conscience. your fixing all the cracks in his morals with every word that leaves your mouth. he almost pinches himself a couple times to make sure he’s not dreaming. but he’s not, your really talking and telling him what you feel. its real.

bfd!leon kennedy who pulls your back closer to his chest and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, whispering that he feels the same. that the struggles ahead — college, a long distance relationship and the relationship with his daughter, your best friend — will be figured out together. that he would do anything for you. even risk his life, he would gladly do it without even thinking about it, thats how much you mean to him.

bfd!leon kennedy who feels you turn in his embrace, your hand meeting his scruffy jaw, pulling his lips to yours in a tender kiss. pouring all your love that you can’t convert for him into the kiss. the simple action makes it worth it for him. no matter what the future looks like you have him with you every step of the way. you finally have each other. body, heart and mind. and nothing could ever measure up too it.

an: let me know if you guys enjoyed this, seriously thinking about writing a oneshot based off of this or maybe a pt.2 to the head canon list? let me know if that’s something you guys would be interested in. also, two updates in the span of a week?? who am i lol. i love you all. pls reblog and like, see you guys soon. xx

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @porcelainseashore @squazmine @spfoah @jmivenus @rcttendolly @melankkholy (if you would like to join my taglist, visit the link at the beginning or the one linked on my blog!)

[siempre-bucky]

existence

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader

summary: There's a rumor at the base that MRs. Torres doesn't exist. No birthday parties, no drinks at the bar after a mission, no base run functions. Sam crashes at the Toress' after the White House incident and sees if she actually exists.

wc: 1457

a/n: Spoilers for CA:BNW

 His ears were still ringing. 

Echos of gunfire and police sirens shrouded his mind, Sam’s body was on autopilot with his eyes burning holes into the dirty apartment complex carpet and his sore feet dragging along it. He still doesn’t comprehend how Joaquin could be in a chipper mood after that. Sam noticed the limp in Joaquin's step and the bruise on the back of his neck. It could have been worse, the President could have died, Cap reminded himself. 

“Wait till you meet her, Sam! Ugh, I have been waiting for this for the longest time!” he cheered, clearly forgetting the late hour. Right, Sam blinked, he was finally meeting Mrs. Torres. After working together for three years, he thought this mystery woman didn’t exist. The younger man would make excuses “She’s working overseas,” or “She has no service.” But after catching a glimpse at his lock screen which proudly displayed a photo of the pair at a Hurricanes baseball game he changed his mind. The rest of the base thought it was AI-generated. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it, man,” Sam forced out a chuckle, ribs screaming back at him. 

Joaquin stopped at the door, digging his key out of his pocket and turning the lock. The echoes disappeared once Sam took a step into the small DC apartment. The smell of baked goods and a soft “We’re home, Amor” coming from the other man was enough to silence them for a moment, the pain in his ribs dulled with the feeling of anticipation rising. 

She was real. His brown eyes discreetly widened as she appeared in the doorway that divided the kitchen and living room, wiping her hands with an orange and green rag. He didn’t take his eyes off her, she examined Joaquin up and down before giving herself the ok to crash into him.  “I’m so happy you’re ok,” She muttered against his neck, his arms holding her against him. 

The soft interaction made something in his chest ache, and the way Joaquin then cradled her face and whispered reassurance in two languages almost made him tear up. Almost. He’d be sure to make fun of him for this later. 

“Sam, this is my wife.” 

The woman smiled softly, aware of the situation at the White House,  and introduced herself, outstretching her hand. He noticed her firm grip, but he could feel the tremble. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sam. I can’t get him to shut up about you,” she chuckled, leaning back into Joaquin’s embrace. 

“Nice to meet you too,” he said with a small smirk. 

“There’s a pillow and blanket on the couch for you along with some clothes. Half his closet is just U Maimi stuff—I hope you don’t mind the colors.”  

Sam turned around and glanced at the neat pile resting on the arm of the couch. “It’ll do fine. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome anytime. I’m going to get him cleaned up, let me know if you need anything else.” She patted her husband on the back and ushered him into the kitchen, dismissing all of his protests. 

Sam walked towards the couch and ran his fingers over the plush olive green material of the blanket before picking up the vibrant green t-shirt. He snickered and tossed it over his shoulder. 

“Shit!” a shrill curse came from the kitchen followed by soft apologies. It was instinct for the hero to look over and check out the scene. Joaqquin was fine, sitting on the counter with a piece of gauze covering his eyebrow. She stood between his legs, a look of sympathy on her face while she dabbed at the wound. 

Love looked good on the kid. In their line of work, there wasn’t much room for love or even just the look of it on someone's face. He remembered the first night he saw it on Joaquin’s face; it was at a bar somewhere in Europe and Sam had been counting on his fingers how many girls the other had turned down for a dance. 

“Five,” he laughed wiggling his fingers in his face. 

Joaquin rolled his eyes and playfully shoved his hand away, “Yeah, yeah.” 

“Wanna go for six or do you wanna tell me why you’ve said no to every pretty girl in this place.” 

The curly-haired man took a swig of beer for confidence, letting out a deep sigh as he put the bottle back on the table. “I have someone back home,” he finally admitted. 

“You got a little girlfriend!” 

There was a small blush on his cheeks and a smile so soft and sweet it was sickening. “A wife.” 

“Wife,” Sam repeated slowly. 

“College sweethearts, I think that’s what it’s called.” 

Yeah, love looked good on him. Sam snapped out of his memory and opened the blanket his eyes watching her press her hand against Joaquin’s chest with his wrapped around her wrist, his thumb swiping along the bone. His heart was beating, he was alive. Sam wondered if that was something they did after he came home from deployment, or now when he returned from a mission. Tonight was just supposed to be a fun night celebrating their mission, not stopping an assassination attempt. 

“Sam…bro, you good?” 

The couple stood in front of him, a red first aid kit in her hands. “Go get changed, I’ll patch up Captain America,” she smirked. Joaquin smiled and kissed her on the temple before retreating to the bedroom down the hall. 

“I’m fine,” Sam laughed it off. 

Her eyes flickered down to his arm, wet crimson staining a patch of his forearm. “Sit,” she told him firmly. 

He took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeve. Well, I’ll be damned, he thought as he looked at the sliced skin, it shouldn’t need stitches. She popped open the kit and got to work in silence. He should say something, the gears in his brain working overtime to come up with something appropriate. 

“You know, I was starting to think you didn’t exist.” He settled on that. Nice going, Sam. 

Thankfully she laughed, pouring a clear liquid over the cut that made him wince. “We get that a lot. We have a tally of all our friends who’ve said that.” 

“Sorry to add another. Work keeps you away?” 

She smiled and nodded, “I work for a charity. Helping communities rebuild after the blip. Some places haven’t been as lucky as we have. I was away a lot—it worked out when he was deployed.” 

A sadness began to loom over her as she gently wrapped his arm with a white gauze. She missed him, and he missed her just as much. “Was?” he narrowed in on the past tense of her words. 

“I requested a transfer to a desk job as soon as he finished those wings. I need to be here if something happens.” There was a tremor in her voice, “Him being Falcon puts him in even more danger. I want—need to be closer to him.” 

“He’s a good man,” Sam told her gently, “a damn good Falcon, he learned from the best.” He got a smile and a small chuckle out of her relieving her of some of the nerves she carried. 

She put her hand over the gauze and looked at him dead in the eye. “Keep him alive, Sam.” It was a gentle command. “He means everything to me.”

His lips parted and glanced down at the silver wedding band around her finger, thinking of a way to tell her that he might not be able to in this line of work. Joaquin saved the day, strolling into the room with a signature toothy smile. “Have you been talking about me this whole time?” he joked. 

Her smile instantly brightened. “You wish,” she laughed, collecting her things from the couch and rose to her feet. 

“She’s a miracle worker.” Sam raised his arm to show his partner the neatly wrapped gauze. 

“Looks good, Sam!” The other man cheered, leaning forward to get a better look. “We don’t have a well-stocked medicine cabinet for nothing.” 

“Yeah, I learned after too many scraped knees from the basketball court back in Maimi.” 

Joaquin winced and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. “Let’s let Captain America get some sleep,” he suggested, pressing his lips to the side of her head. 

“Let us know if you need anything, Sam,” she told him. 

“Will do, Mrs. Torres. Thank you for everything.” 

“Anytime. We’re here or you.” 

Sam got comfortable on the couch, and surprisingly he felt like he could fall asleep instantly. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to his friends at the base: ‘Mrs. Torres exists.’

[puckinghischier]

What do I have to do to get some filthy Nico thoughts this morning? Xoxo

not much, honestly

was thinking about how absolutely rabid he’d be after that canes game, all high on winning. but unfortunately for him, you’d be out of service for a few more days, mother nature having paid you a visit a couple of days ago. of course you’d help him out, giving him a nice, long, treat on your knees to reward him for the victory, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could have all of you.

he’d be such a little menace about it too. snaking his arms around you while you’re in front of the mirror, doing your hair, letting them rest dangerously low on your waist. little smacks to your ass anytime you pass by him. waking you up in the morning by rutting his morning semi against your ass.

and when the two of you are out in public? god, he’s almost worse than when you’re at home. drinks with the guys turned into you being trapped in the booth, nico’s hand resting high on your thigh, fingers brushing you over your underwear. you knew wearing this dress was risky, especially with how he’s been the last couple days, but you figured since you would be out with the guys he’d be on his best behavior. but of course you were wrong. his long pinky makes long, drawn out circles on your barely covered clit, working you up continuously just to casually slide his hand away. only to do it all over again every ten minutes.

then, when you came to visit him at the rink for lunch, he was dragging you into a random corner, kissing you like he was trying to take all of the oxygen from your body. his heavy frame pinning you against the smooth wall of whatever deserted hallway you were in. he knew you were close to being his again, having his own tracker app on his phone for your cycle. which also means he knew you were in the stage where you were becoming increasingly more desperate and horny as the hours ticked by.

“nico…not here. please. you know we can’t. just another day or so,” you’d pant out, so close to just letting him have his way with you anyways. his response would be a hand coming up to cup over your sex, digging the palm of his hand into your clothed clit. “just think of everything you could’ve had already. all the fun you’ve missed out on, caused me to miss out on” he whispers gruffly in your ear, biting the sensitive skin there. “don’t you think i finally deserve my reward for having such a good game the other night?”

you let out a harsh gasp, the sight of your open mouth and perfect tongue poking out combined with your wild eyes nearly enough to make him start ripping clothes off right here, not a care in the world if anyone would see the two of you or not. he brings a hand up to pinch your bottom lip between his fingers, pulling the skin out. he has the urge to do something he never has before, which is letting a dribble of spit drop directly from his mouth into the small pocket created by your outstretched bottom lip.

he watches your pupils dilate in surprise, releasing your skin so it snaps back into place. he looks down at your throat, watching you swallow the saliva he just transferred to you. he smirks, knowing by the look on your face, and clench of your thighs, he’s almost got you.

you hear footsteps approaching the two of you, straightening up and pushing nico away from you only slightly, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position in his workplace. an equipment manager rounds the corner, looking up when he notices the two of you and waves.

“hey cap! got that new stick in you were wanting! on my way to go pick it up now, actually. meet me out on the ice?” he waves in greeting, cheery attitude showing he’s excited about the delivery.

“sure thing! see you out there in a few!” nico responds just as enthusiastically, a stark contrast from his demeanor mere seconds ago. you both watch the man retreat down the hallway, having given you a small wave of goodbye, which you returned.

“okay well…i’ll…uh…see you at home, yeah?” you clear your throat, hardly able to concentrate on the words you’re speaking.

“mhmm. see you in a bit,” he places a kiss to your forehead, backing away from your still stunned figure. “oh! and stop by the kitchen on your way out. grab a water, you seem a little…thirsty,” he smirks at you as he walks backwards, teasing you for just how quick you were to accept and swallow his spittle moments ago.

that night when he returned home, he couldn’t find you anywhere. you weren’t in the living room on the couch, in the small kitchen, in the bedroom. when he called out your name you emerged from the shared walk in closet, clad in his favorite lingerie set of yours.

“good news, neeks,” is all you managed to get out before he was stomping towards you, backing you against the floor-to-ceiling shelving of the closet. a few shoes dropped off the shelf at the force of his actions, but that was the least of your worries right now. you could fix them in the morning, considering the two of you never managed to leave the space the whole night, waking up on the carpeted floor to his soft snores, one of his suit jackets draped over your naked body as a makeshift blanket.

[earthchica]

adore you

aaron pierre x black, fem! reader {actress}

summary: after wrapping up your movie, you and aaron spent some time together in your hometown, North Carolina, and took your new relationship to the next level emotionally and sexually.

warnings: FLUFF, explicit smut 18+, light teasing, light competitive flirting, dirty talking, sexual boundaries, oral (f & m), making out session, fluff, state fair, boyfriend/girlfriend, actor/actress, not real life, original characters, use of Y/N, words: 6k

note: here's part 2; might do a part 3 Idk lol. I hope you enjoy it because I kinda got carried away, haha.

sequel to { why don't we fall in love? }

-

You and Aaron wrapped up filming your movie a month and a half ago, and you have been enjoying some much-needed downtime at your granny’s beach house in North Carolina.

You both wanted to keep your relationship out of the public eye, so you’ve been having little dates around the beach. You tried to get out of the house and show Aaron your favorites, especially the state fair that was close by.

You woke up to the sound of seagulls outside, but the bed beside you was empty. You felt slightly lonely, but the aroma from the kitchen quickly pulled you from the sheets.

You stretched and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, thinking about how you and Aaron had been trading off breakfast duties. Today was his turn—and you could already tell he was putting in the effort.

After freshening up and going through your morning routine, you went downstairs. As you stepped into the kitchen, the sight of Aaron’s exposed muscular back immediately caught your eye.

He was standing at the stove, flipping French toast like a pro. The way he moved was effortlessly attractive, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Morning, sunshine!” Aaron said, glancing over his shoulder as you entered. He turned to you, a grin spreading across his face, and leaned in to kiss your lips sweetly.

“Just in time��breakfast is almost ready: eggs, bacon, and some French toast.”

“Ok. Look at you bein’ all chef-like,” you teased, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “Smellin’ good in here.”

“Gotta keep my girl happy,” he replied, his eyes twinkling as he slid a plate full of food before you. “Dig in while it’s hot.”

You took a bite, nodding appreciatively. “Mmm, so good! I love a man who knows how to cook.”

Aaron chuckled and sat beside you at the counter, “Thanks, babe.” You smiled, and moments of comfortable chatting filled with the sounds of utensils clinking and food being enjoyed.

After breakfast, you leaned back in your chair, feeling satisfied and content. The sunlight poured through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow around the room.

Aaron took a sip of his coffee from the mug you gifted him when he arrived, glancing at you with a playful eyebrow raise. “So, any plans for today.”

His eyes sparkled with curiosity, and you felt excited at the question. “I’m so glad you asked! I was thinkin’ we could get out the house for a bit,” you replied, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

“I wanna show you some of my favorite spots—places that hit differently for me, ya know?” You said softly, and Aaron nodded, his attention entirely on you.

“Oh, lovely. I’d love that! What you got in mind?” He asked; you couldn’t help but smile, picturing the fun you’d have. “There’s this cute little wine and design place I used to go with friends." you started.

"We’d paint and chill with wine, but we can do that other day. I want to take you to the state fair. You gotta experience our fried food and rides—a whole vibe!”

Aaron laughed, shaking his head playfully. “Hmm, sounds fun!”

“Right? And I was thinkin’ I could invite my sister, Sade, you've met her before, and her man, Erik, too. We could make it a little group thing—call it a fam day,” you suggested, feeling the excitement bubbling inside you.

Aaron leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand with a smirk. “Okay, I’m up for it, but are you sure it wouldn’t be too much? I mean, we’ve been low-key the whole time.”

“Nah, it’ll be chill! We’ll keep it laid-back,” you reassured him, your eyes sparkling enthusiastically. “It’ll be good—kinda like a little break from the house.”

Aaron nodded, a soft smile spreading as warmth filled his eyes. “Alright, anything for you,” he replied, his voice steady and reassuring.

You paused for a moment, a hint of concern crossing your features. “Are you sure? I want to make certain that you’re comfortable with this,” you began, your words laced with genuine care.

With a reassuring glance, Aaron leaned in slightly, his voice softening further. “I appreciate you! And I’m sure, sweetheart,” he responded, the sincerity in his tone leaving no room for doubt.

“Yay!” you said, jumping out of your chair to kiss his lips before pulling away. "Okay, Let me just text Sade and see what they’re up to," you added, reaching for your phone.

Aaron smiled, clearly excited becuase you were excited. Your heart racing at the thought of a lovely day out filled with laughter and new memories.

-

You and Aaron strolled towards the gate's entrance; the energy in the air felt electric. It was a warm day, the sun shining just right, and you could see your sister and Erik ahead.

“Look, there they are!” you said, nudging Aaron with your elbow. He smiled, adjusting his cap, and you approached. As soon as your sister spotted us, her face lit up.

“Y'all finally made it!” Sade exclaimed, her hands moving animatedly as she walked over. “I was starting to think you two would leave us hanging!”

“Never that, big sis!” You laughed, giving her a quick hug. “Traffic was wild.”

Erik nodded to Aaron, and they exchanged a friendly fist bump. “Sup, bro. I'm Erik, Sade's boyfriend. I heard ya, London boy. Are you ready for some fun with country folk?” he grins.

“Definitely,” Aaron replied, his eyes shining. “Y/N told me a lot of great things. I’m particularly looking forward to the local music scene.”

“Nice!” Erik enthused. “You've picked a great time to visit. There's a music festival downtown this weekend. It’s gonna be epic! There are a lot of local bands and maybe even some bigger names. You in?”

“Okay, Okay!” Aaron said, matching Erik's enthusiasm. “What kind of music are we talking about, though?”

“It’s a uh….mix of everything. Sade and I went last year; it was a vibe, and you'll love it,” Erik explained, his face lighting up in memory.

“Lovely! I’ve heard a lot about the food scene, too,” Aaron said, glancing over at you. “I’m looking forward to trying some proper barbecue!”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Sade said, her eyes sparkling. “We’ve got the best BBQ joints around. There’s this little hole-in-the-wall spot that serves the most incredible. And you can’t leave without trying!”

“Now I’m excited,” Aaron laughed. "I guess you will need to roll me out there by the end of the trip!” He said, looking down at you with a smile.

"Mmmm, that BQQ is good, but my BQQ is better. I'll make you some later, boo." You laughed, playfully nudging him. "Oh, really, I'm keeping a note on that," Aaron laughed.

You all continued chatting and walking inside, trying to decide what to do first. Your sister smiled, looking between you and Aaron with that big sister magic.

“I always knew you two would end up togather. I mean, c’mon! You both are perfect for each other! Like a power couple!” Sade whispered to you with a smile.

You felt your cheeks heat a little at her words. “Really? You think so?” you asked, trying to sound casual, even though some of you wanted to jump excitedly.

“Absolutely! Look at you two,” she said, gesturing animatedly. “You look at each other with so much love and complement each other like peanut butter and jelly!”

You chuckled, feeling a little bashful. “I guess we do, and I do. Falling in love with your best friend is the best thing?”

“Yes!” Sade said with a laugh and leaned closer, her eyes sparkling enthusiastically. “And it’s not just that. You both have supported each other through so much."

"I saw how he was there for you during your bad, public breakup with your cheating ex. But honestly, watching you two and seeing how happy you are makes me happy for you,” she added.

You sighed as you recalled your humiliating breakup. “Yeah, that time was hard, and I was grateful for Aaron being there for me. I think that's when I realized I was in love with him.”

Your sister nodded knowingly. “That’s when you know someone’s special. When they can make the tough times feel lighter. So, are you two officially a bf/gf yet?”

A mix of nerves and excitement filled you. “Well, we haven’t labeled it, but… it feels like we’re heading in that direction?” you said with a slightly shy smile.

“That’s great, sissy!” She said, clapping her hands together. “You should talk to him about it; ensure you're on the same page! Don’t wait too long.”

You considered her words. “You’re right, thanks, Sade. I appreciate you.” you pulled her into a side hug. “Of course! I’m rooting for you both,” she said, her voice full of warmth.

“Come on, we’re falling behind.” She motioned to Aaron and Erik, laughing and joking ahead of you like they were old friends. You laughed, feeling grateful for her support.

The four of you went further into the state fair. Bright lights and sounds enveloped you, creating an atmosphere of excitement. The scent of fried food wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

“First stop: the funnel cakes!” your sister proclaimed, leading the charge. You and Aaron followed closely, exchanging playful nudges and glances.

You reached the stand and ordered a funnel cake topped with powdered sugar, which the vendor handed over with a smile. “Look at this beauty,” you grinned, proudly holding it up.

“Wow, sounds like someone’s ready to get sugary,” Aaron teased, leaning closer. “But can you handle all that sweetness?”

“Oh, I think I can handle it just fine, darlin',” you shot back playfully, taking a big bite. “Can you?”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Challenge accepted. Let’s see who can eat their funnel cake faster!”

“Okay! You’re on,” you laughed, the competitive spirit kicking in. The two of you found a spot to sit, and everyone gathered around, ready for the showdown.

“Ready… set… go!” Erik shouted, and you both dug into the sweet treat, faces covered in powdered sugar.

The laughter erupted as you both stuffed your faces, trying to outdo each other. “Come on, Aaron! You call that eating?” you teased, a mischievous spark in your eye.

“I’m just savoring it! Quality over quantity, babe. You’re just trying to win!” Aaron shot back between bites, his expression cheeky.

“You’re just scared you can’t keep up!” you shot back playfully, feigning a dramatic gasp. “I’ll even share, but I might finish this before you get halfway through.” you laughed.

“No way! I’m not losing to you!” Aaron said, leaning in, foreheads almost touching, each of you fueled by sugar and laughter. “But if I do lose, what do I get?” he asked,

Your teasing smile is growing. “If you lose, we must go on the Ferris wheel first!”

“Of course, you loved that one!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I do! But you hate it, so it’ll be perfect!” you giggled back, causing him to roll his eyes but chuckle.

The fun continued, and it wasn’t long before Aaron’s plate was empty while you had a few bites left. “I did it!” you cheered, raising your hands like you’d just crossed the finish line.

“Alright, alright,” Aaron said, laughing before feigning defeat with a pout. “But when we’re up there, just remember: I’m the one who got you that funnel cake.”

“True, but just because you did me a favor doesn’t mean you get a pass!” You nudged him playfully, and the four of you approached the Ferris wheel.

As you approached, Aaron pretended to have second thoughts. “Are you sure this is the best idea? Shouldn't we save the Ferris wheels for last?”

“Aaron, just the Ferris wheel!” you teased, raising your phone as if to take a video. Your sister laughed at you two as she and Erik went on next.

“Stop playing!” Aaron laughed, grabbing your wrist gently to lower your phone. “Okay, fine…sorry, but a deal is a deal, boo,” you said, grinning brightly, your heart racing with anticipation.

Once on the ride, the mechanics creaked as it ascended, and your heart skipped a beat. “Look at us, high above the fair!” you exclaimed, pointing at the vibrant colors below.

“I can see the funnel cake stand from here!” Aaron replied, looking out and playfully clutching at the safety bar, his competitive edge still shining.

“Just don’t look down!" you said softly. As you reached the top and the Ferris wheel paused, you turned to Aaron, both of your faces glowing against the sunset backdrop.

“So, Aaron, on a scale from one to ten? How scared are you?” you asked, using a fake microphone phone.

“On a scale from one to ten?" Aaron repeated in your fake mic, looking around. "Uh…I’d say….about a five, in the middle,” Aaron laughed shyly, all cute and handsome.

“But that’s just because I’m with you.” He said with a smile, and your heart fluttered, the thrill of the ride mixing with the warmth of his words.

“Aww, look at you acting so shy and sweet. I thought you were tough, Aaron!” you teased, leaning closer. “Oh…I am…when I need to be tough,” Aaron shot back with a playful grin.

You smiled and leaned in toward him, holding his arm as the side of your face almost touched, enjoying the lovely sun shining on the both of you.

After the Ferris wheel, you felt excitement mixed with the sugar rush from that funnel cake. “Alright, what’s next? I’m feelin’ like we should conquer the next ride!”

Adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your sister grinned, her eyes sparkling. “How about that spinning teacup ride? It’ll be cool! Just don’t lose your funnel cakes sugar up mind in there!”

“Ha! Like I’d let that happen!” you teased back, glancing at Aaron, who had that cheeky grin.

“I’m down for teacups, but I guess we should make it interesting,” Aaron said with his British accent, fluttering your heart every time, and he went on. “The loser has to win everyone a prize at the ring toss.”

“Game on, then!” you shot back, the playful fire igniting. “I ain’t losin’ to you,” you added.

Erik, quietly assessing the situation, threw in his two cents. “Yo, I’ll take that bet, too! Loser treats us all to lunch!”

Your sister laughed and said, “Looks like we got a proper competition here! I hope y’all are ready to lose!”

The colors spun in a dizzying whirl as you approached the teacup ride. You breathed and sat beside Aaron, who leaned in close.

“You know, you goin’ down so hard on this one?” He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your back, and you shook your head to focus.

“Keep dreamin’, babe,” you replied with a smirk while gazing into his pretty, light eyes, which you came to fall in love with, as you said, “I got skills. You wait and see!”

Once the ride started, the cups began to whirl. “Hold on tight!” you yelled, laughter bubbling out of you as you sent your cup spinning even faster.

“You got a secret weapon or somethin’? You tryna make me sick?” Aaron mocked, trying to catch his balance as you controlled the spinning.

“Just a lil’ country charm, darlin’!” you shot back playfully. Erik and your sister were whooping and laughing next to you, caught up in the competitive energy.

When the ride came to a stop, you hopped out and felt the world still spinning. “Who’s ready to win at ring toss?” you said, your heart racing from the ride and the fun vibe.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron replied, trying to suppress a smile while shaking his head as he straightened up. “You lot are gonna regret it; I’m a pro when tossing rings!”

“Pro? You sure you ain’t just a ‘no’?” you bantered, elbowing him lightly with a giggle. “Watch it, yeah?” Aaron shot back with a laugh, throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“No one gonna stop me today.” He said firmly. As you approached the ring toss booth, the tension was palpable. “Let’s see who can get that giant teddy bear!”

Your sister urged, eyeing the prize gleefully.

“Just so y’know, if I win, I’m keepin’ that bear,” Aaron declared, a glint in his eye.

“Not if I get it first!” you challenged, stepping up to the booth. One by one, you all took turns tossing rings, laughter bubbling up with every near-miss and triumphant win.

“C’mon, baby sis, you gotta focus!” your sister urged as you lined up your shot.

“I got this, I got this here!” you replied confidently, throwing the ring. The sound of it plopping over a bottle made you cheer. “Yes! One down!” you slapped your hand.

Aaron scoffed playfully. “Oh, nah! Looks like I’m gonna have to bring my A-game.” He stepped up, getting serious as he tossed a ring, which landed perfectly.

“Ha! Do you see that? That’s skills, baby!” Aaron said, sticking his tongue out at you. “You lucky, that’s all,” you shot back, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.

“Just wait till it’s my turn again.” You added.

Erik, now charged up, shouted out. “All right, I’m next! Watch and learn, folks!” He threw, and his ring ricocheted off the bottles with a comical plop.

“Damn, did I just make a fail compilation?” Erk asked; he looked like he was about to crash out, and you all laughed. “Yeah, Erik! We’ll be sure to add that to the blooper reel!” you teased.

After a few rounds, it was down to the wire. You and Aaron were neck and neck, both determined to win that teddy bear. “I ain’t lettin’ you snatch victory from me!” you said, fixing him with a playful glare.

“Bring it on, sweetheart! But if I win, you buy lunch for everyone, and you’ve gotta dance with me in the middle of the fair!” Aaron challenged, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, okay! Deal! And if I win, you buy lunch for everyone, and you’ve gotta dance with me in the middle of the fair, and you have to wearin’ that bear on your head for a selfie!” you shot back.

With the stakes higher than ever, you stepped up. Your heart raced as you tossed your final ring. Time seemed to slow as it swung around before landing squarely on a bottle.

“Yes! I did it!” You squealed with a smile, hugging your sister and Erik, who were laughing at Aaron's expression on his face, but it quickly changed.

"I got to say, well done, love. You’ve got skills!” Aaron said, holding his hand up before coming over to kiss your forehead, which made you feel warm inside.

“Thank you, babe. Now it’s time for that selfie!” you exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement, grabbing the giant bear as Aaron dramatically slumped.

As you all gathered for a photo, the energy was electric. “You better be ready for that dance later!” Aaron called out, wrapping a playful arm around you as your sister and Erik posed goofily.

“You better believe I am! Just wait until I show off my moves!” you giggled. The four of you enjoyed the rest of your time at the fair, making it one of the best times for you and Aaron.

-

It's been an amazing two weeks for you and Aaron. You spent much time together and showed him around North Carolina. You both maintained a low profile while out, and only a few fans recognized you.

It is your last night before you two have to part ways. You made a romantic dinner and set the table, the scent of rosemary and garlic wafting through the air like an inviting embrace.

Each carefully placed dish was a masterpiece in its own right, showcasing your culinary skills. You could feel Aaron’s gaze on you, a blend of admiration and lust that made your heart race.

There's been some pent-up sexual tension between you two. “Sweetheart, this is amazing,” Aaron drawled with a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“You got mad skills in the kitchen. If I knew you could throw down like this, I would have tried to get you into making me a feast ages ago.” Aaron said, licking his lips.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he cut a perfectly seared piece of BQQ, savoring every bite with exaggerated pleasure. “Mmm! You're seducing my taste buds.”

You chuckled, pouring two glasses of red wine. “Me? Seduce you? As if I must resort to such tactics when all you do is swoon over me anyway.” You said playfully, setting his glass before him.

“True, you’re stunning, smart, funny, talented, can cook, the list can go….yeah, I’m hooked,” Aaron said, leaning closer. “Let's not forget that little dance you did at the fair. I swear, I got you had me hot and bother watching you twerk.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, fighting off a grin as you leaned against the table, arms folded, eyeing him with feigned indignation. “Oh, please! That was just a little shimmy to the music. I can’t help but feel the groove.”

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Nah, that was more than a little shimmy, babe. That was a full-on performance! You say ‘little,’ I say ‘full show.’ You had me contemplating my life choices and how I could spend it all right here watching you shake it.”

“Is that right?” you asked, tilting your head to one side like a playful cat sizing up its prey. “So, what else gets you all contemplative? Besides my undeniable twerking skills, of course.”

“Honestly?” Aaron leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head like he was settling in for storytime. “It’s the way your laugh lights up this whole place." He starts.

"We could be stuck in the middle of a thunderstorm or something, and your giggle would have me forgetting about everything else. Everything you do puts me at ease.” Aaron paused and locked his gaze onto yours, intensity mingling.

You took a sip of your wine to mask your shyness, feeling the warmth spread through you.

“That's sweet, Aaron, and what if I told you your smile does the same for me?” You leaned in slightly closer to the table, intrigued by the fluttering excitement in your chest.

“Whenever you walk into a room, it feels like someone turns the lights on. I can’t help but feel this little spark of joy, " you said with a smile, and Aaron's eyes widened, surprised yet pleased by the compliment.

“Really? You just saying that makes me want to smile even more.” He leaned forward, closing the distance between you like a secret shared between conspirators.

“I guess we both have ways of brightening up this place, yeah?" He added and you nodded, a smile spreading across your face as you watched Aaron savor the last bites of food.

A comforting warmth enveloped you both, the kind of atmosphere that made everything feel right. Aaron got up from his chair with a smile while looking at you.

“Okay, I have something for you,” Aaron said, his voice a mix of excitement and nervousness. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A gift? For me? You didn’t have to, Aaron,”

You feel a flutter of curiosity in your chest. He went to reach for a bag of something on the couch and pulled out a velvet box, presenting it to you with a playful smirk.

“Just open it,” Aaron urged, a hint of nervous energy in his tone. You took the box from him, your pulse quickening. Carefully, you lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a small, sparkling pendant that caught the light just right.

"Come here," Aaron said, wanting to put it on you, and you turned around, moving your hair out of the way. You slightly shiver at the touch of his warm, big hands on your neck.

“Oh Aaron, it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, turning back to him as your fingers traced the intricate design. His eyes shone warmly as he leaned closer, his expression serious yet tender.

“I wanted to give you something special. This isn’t just a necklace, though,” Aaron paused, taking a deep breath. “I want to ask you something important.”

The atmosphere shifted, and you could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. “What is it?” you asked, putting the box on the table.

Aaron took your hands in his, grounding you both. “I’ve loved every moment we've spent together. You’ve made everything feel so bright for me. So, I want to ask if you….would be my girlfriend.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip, and for a moment, time stood still. Light tears of joy welled in your eyes as you nodded, a huge grin spreading across your face.

“Yes! Yes, of course!” You leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss, feeling the world around you fade. Aaron pulled you closer, his hands at your waist, deepening the kiss.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were beaming with happiness. “I think this moment deserves a dance,” Aaron declared, whipping your tears as his eyes sparkling with love.

“Really?” you chuckled, your heart still fluttering wildly. “Absolutely. We can’t let a moment like this go by without celebrating,” he replied with a light smile.

You nodded and slipped on a playlist filled with old, slow songs like Nat King Cole, letting the smooth melodies wrap around you like a warm hug.

Aaron handed his hand out, and you took it, feeling an electric thrill run through you. Aaron led you into the living room space; he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as you swayed gently.

Unforgettable That's what you are Unforgettable Though near or far

The warmth of his body against yours was intoxicating, and you could hardly believe this perfect moment was real.

Like a song of love That clings to me How the thought of you Does things to me Never before Has someone been more

Aaron whispered against your ear. “This is perfect.” You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “It really is. You make everything feel special.” You swayed, lost in the rhythm

Unforgettable In every way And forevermore That's how you'll stay

The music swirled around you, your bodies pressed together in that cozy embrace where time seemed to stand still. The world outside melted away, leaving just the two of you lost in your rhythm.

That's why, darling It's incredible That someone so unforgettable Thinks that I am Unforgettable too

You could feel his heartbeat syncing with yours in an unspoken dance. The tension was electric between you two, a magnetic pull that seemed to drown out the outside world.

Unforgettable In every way And forevermore That's how you'll stay

Aaron pulls away to look down at you, and you look up at him; the music fades in the background as a spark ignites between you, compelling him to lean in and capture your lips with his.

The kiss started softly, a gentle exploration filled with sweetness, but as the moment deepened, it transformed into something more passionate and powerful.

You could feel his hands cradling your face, thumbs tracing the delicate lines of your jaw, and it only made you crave him more. You melted against him, placing your hand behind his head.

Aaron pulled you closer, fitting your bodies together like puzzle pieces. The kiss deepened, and the world around you faded, leaving only his taste on your lips and the warmth of his body against yours.

Lost in the moment, you stumbled back, your legs brushing against the couch until you fell against it, Aaron following you down, never breaking the kiss.

Aaron settled on top of you, his weight both comforting and thrilling. His body pressed into yours, and you could feel every breath he took every heartbeat.

You could feel the sexual tension surging between you, a physical manifestation of everything you dreamed of. Every kiss felt like a conversation, filled with promises and uncharted territories waiting to be explored.

You pulled back slightly, breathless but exhilarated. "Aaron, I…."

Aaron searched your eyes, his expression serious yet soft. "I feel it, too. It’s like we’ve been waiting for the right time to finally let go, to embrace what’s been bubbling beneath the surface."

You nodded, feeling the gravity of his words. "It’s intense, and I don’t want to rush anything, but it’s hard to deny it." With a smirk that played at the corners of his lips, he brushed your hair away from your face.

"Then let's go slow. There's no rush. Just you, me, the music, and whatever comes next." He said as you both shared another lingering kiss, and you melded into each other again.

Aaron whispered in your ear. "You are so lovely tonight, I've been wanting to explore every inch of you. I find those sweet spots, slowly. Methodically. Can I do that, love?"

You shivered at his words, feeling a surge of arousal between your legs. "Mmm, yes, please," you moaned, pressing your lips to his hungrily.

Your tongues danced and taking your dress off and Aaron's shirt for now. His hands began to trail down to your most sensitive areas slowly.

"Okay…good, but first, just a couple questions…do you trust me, and are you clean?" Aaron asked respectfully but firmly. "Yes, I do…I'm clean, and I'm on the pill," You answered with quickness.

"Good. Let's talk about likes, dislikes, and all that really quickly. Yeah….?" Aaron whispered, his voice low and seductive. "Ok, I like light bondage," you gasped.

You were relishing in the tingling sensation throughout your body as his fingers grazed over your dark-brown skin. Aaron's eyes lit up with excitement.

"If you love it, then I love it" Aaron growled softly, biting down on your neck. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper at the sensation, knowing this was the beginning of what would come.

"What about you??" you asked eagerly. "I'm into a little bit of dominant energy….of course, I respect boundaries," Aaron replied, his voice dripping with desire.

"Though I can tell you like it when a man takes charge, huh, love?." He asked, his hands sliding down to cup your curves, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Oh god, yes," you moaned, arching into his touch. "I love being told what to do." You whispered with a moan. "Then you're gonna love what I have planned for us," Aaron said with a wicked grin.

"Please…..w-what's off limits for you?" you moaned, his eyes never leaving yours. "Um…I'm not…" He paused, his hand sliding down your thigh. "I want to see yours first, any hard limits?"

"non-conasll is a big no, nothing too extreme," you replied, trying to keep your breathing steady as his touch sent shivers down your spine. "And no feet stuff."

Aaron chuckled a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't worry, babe. That's not my thing, either." His hand trailed higher, teasingly close to your core.

"But I do love playing with tits and asses…" Aaron admits, and you let out a gasp as he squeezes your ass cheek, already feeling soaked between your legs.

"Mmm yeah?" you moaned, grinding against him. "Oh yeah," Aaron growled, his breath hot against your ear. "And lucky for me, we're a perfect match."

Aaron kissed you deeply again, his hands wandering over your body as you eagerly reciprocated as your bodies moved in sync and the passion between you grew hotter and hotter.

Aaron couldn't resist whispering those dirty words that drove you wild. "I can't wait to make you beg for this dick," he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

You whimpered in response, knowing this was just the beginning of the mind-blowing night ahead of you. Aaron's fingers danced along your waistband, teasing the sensitive skin.

"Let's get these off, shall we?" Aaron murmured, slowly sliding your panties down. "Tell me more about what gets you going."

You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed skin. "I love being teased," you breathed. "Edging, denial, building anticipation. It drives me wild."

"Mmm, noted," Aaron growled, his eyes dark with lust. "I'll have you begging before the night's through." He tossed your panties aside.

"What else, baby? Don't hold back." He said; you bit your lip, feeling deliciously vulnerable. "I like a bit of pain with my pleasure. Hair pulling, spanking, biting…"

You trailed off as Aaron's hand ghosted over your inner thigh. "Fuck, you're perfect," he groaned. "I love that too." His fingers inched higher.

"Another else?" Aaron asked, stroking your legs. "I like light choking but no smacking in the face," you said firmly and added. "And nothing involving with spit."

Aaron nodded. "Of course!" His thumb brushed your clit, making you moan. "But I do love eating pussy. Is that okay with you, baby?"

"Oh, yes," you whimpered, arching into his touch. "Mmm, I'm gonna take my time with you, love" Aaron purred, trailing kisses down your neck.

"Gonna worship every inch of this perfect body." He said with a smile. You shivered in anticipation. "Tell me more about what you like," you urged breathlessly.

Aaron's eyes glinted mischievously. "I love making the person squirm with pleasure. Edging them until they're begging for release."

His fingers teased your inner thighs. "I like oral - giving and receiving. And I've got a thing for lingerie."

"Mmm, I'll have to model some lingerie for you sometime," you purred. "I've got this lacy red one that would drive you wild."

Aaron groaned, his eyes darkening with lust. "Fuck, baby. Just picturing you in that has me rock hard."

You let out a low moan as his thumb brushed your clit. "I also don't like name-calling or degradation, maybe being called a slut is fine, but that’s it."

"Noted," Aaron murmured, kissing you deeply before working his way down your body. "Now, can you get a taste and eat this sweet, pretty pussy, sweetheart?"

You spread your legs wider in invitation. "Please," you whimpered.

Aaron settled between your thighs, his hot breath teasing your sensitive flesh. "Mmm, you smell divine," he groaned. "I'm gonna make you come so hard with just my tongue."

You placed your hand on the back of his head as he slowly licked a stripe up your slit. Aaron's tongue delved deeper, carefully exploring every fold and crevice.

You moaned and arched your back against the couch as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"Oh god, Aaron," you whimpered. "Your tongue feels amazing."

Aaron hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body.

Pulling back slightly, he murmured, "You taste even better than I imagined. I could do this for hours."

"Please," you begged. "Don't stop."

Aaron chuckled darkly. "Oh, I won't stop, baby. Not until you're a quivering mess." His tongue circled your clit as two fingers slowly pushed inside you.

"So wet for me already. I bet you're aching to be devoured, haven't you?" He questioned.

"Yes," you gasped as his fingers curled, finding that perfect spot as his lips wrapped around your clit. The dual sensations had you writhing beneath him, incoherent pleas falling from your lips.

Aaron worked you expertly, bringing you right to the edge before easing off, over and over, until you were trembling with need.

"Aaron, please," you whined with desperation. "I'm so close."

"Tell me what you want, love," Aaron growled.

"I want you to make me cum, fucking make me cum," you moaned, gripping your breasts, before playing with your nipples. "Please, I need it so badly."

Aaron's eyes glinted wickedly as he looked up at you from between your thighs. "As you wish, my love." He redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit.

His fingers pumped in and out of you at a relentless pace. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," you chanted, your back arching off the couch again. The pressure built and built until, finally.

You shattered, crying out Aaron's name as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He didn't let up, working you through your orgasm and straight into another one.

Your thighs trembled around his head as a second climax rocked through you, even more intense than the first. "That's it, baby," Aaron purred, his voice husky with arousal.

"Let me hear how wonderful I make you feel." He said and you whimpered, overstimulated but craving more. "So wonderful, Aaron. ahh, your mouth is magic."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "Just wait until you feel me inside you. I'm gonna fill you up so good, stretch that tight pussy around me, but that for another day."

A fresh surge of arousal coursed through you at his words. "Please, no, you gotta fuck me, give me that big dick," you begged. "I need you. I need to feel every inch of you."

Aaron's eyes flashed with desire as he gazed up at you. "Patience, love," he said with a chuckle. "I'm not done tasting you yet." He lowered his head once more

His talented tongue explores every fold and crevice. You whimpered and squirmed beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations. "Aaron, please," you begged.

"I need more. Let me pleasure you, too." You cried, looking down at him with hearty eyes. Aaron paused, considering. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Aaron got up and took the rest of his clothes off; you got a sight of his dick, it was big and throbbing while you moved to let him lay down on his back, and you got on top, straddling his face.

"There. Now you can suck my dick while I feast on this delicious pussy." Aaron said low and sexy. Eagerly, you leaned forward and got sight of his dick again.

Your mouth watered at the sight. “So big.” Wrapping your lips around the tip, you slowly took him deeper as Aaron's tongue resumed its delicious licking of your pussy.

“Mm…How does this feel?” you asked softly but seductively. "That's it, so good," Aaron groaned. "Take it all, baby. Show me how badly you want it."

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as you bobbed your head. Aaron's hips jerked upwards, pushing his dick further down your throat.

You relaxed and took him deeper, relishing his guttural moan of pleasure. "Fuck, your mouth feels incredible," he panted. "Such a good little dicksucker. I bet you can't wait to feel this dick stretching out that tight pussy'“

You moaned around Aaron's big dick, the vibrations making him groan against your pussy. His tongue delved deeper, lapping at your juices as his fingers gripped your ass.

"Mmm, you taste so fucking good," Aaron growled. "I could eat this sweet pussy all night long. Want me to make you cum again, baby? Want to feel my tongue on your clit while you swallow my dick?"

You pulled off his length with a wet pop. "Yes, fuck, yes, please," you whimpered. "Make me cum, Aaron. I want to scream your name, please."

Aaron chuckled darkly. "As you wish, my love." His lips wrapped around your sensitive bud, sucking hard as two fingers pushed inside you.

You cried out in pleasure, rocking your hips against his face. "That's it," he purred. "Ride my face; use me for your pleasure. I want to feel you dripping down my chin when you cum."

His words sent a fresh surge of arousal through you. You took him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster as you chased your release.

Aaron's fingers curled, hitting that perfect spot inside you as his tongue flicked rapidly over your clit. "Fuck, I'm so close," you moaned, your thighs trembling.

"Don't stop, please don't stop!"

"Cum for me," Aaron commanded. "Let me feel that pussy squeeze my fingers. I want to taste your orgasm on my tongue."

The urgency in his voice pushed you closer to the edge, and you could feel the heat coiling tight in your belly. “Oh God, Aaron, I'm gonna…”

“That's it, babe; let go for me,” he encouraged, his voice thick with desire, sending shivers racing down your spine. With a cry that echoed through the living room, you came undone.

Waves of ecstasy crashed over you as your body seized up around his fingers. The world narrowed down to that delicious moment. You felt your essence spilling out, coating his chin as he greedily lapped at your release.

“Yesss,” he groaned, burying his face deeper into you. “So fucking hot. You taste like paradise, love.” The vibration of his voice against your core sent aftershocks through your trembling body.

You pulled off him and turned your body to face him, panting. “You sure know how to treat a girl right,” you teased breathlessly, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

Aaron smirked at you, his lips glistening with your arousal. You resume sucking him off, glancing at him through your eyelashes as you stroke him vigorously.

“Mmm, how do I look taking your dick in my mouth, Aaron?" You asked before boobing your head up and down on his dick.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful,” Aaron groaned, running his fingers through your hair. “The sexiest sight I've ever seen.” He pushed your head down, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth.

“I’m so close, babe; I can't hold back any longer.”

You took him as deep as you could, massaging his balls with one hand. You moaned around his cock, feeling him throb in your mouth. and with a guttural moan, Aaron came.

His hot seed spurts onto your waiting tongue. You swallowed greedily, savoring his salty taste on your tongue. Slowly easing off his softening dick, you licked your lips seductively.

“Mmmm, now that was delicious,” you purred. “Yummy, the best dessert. I wish I could have some more,” you said poutfully. Aaron laughed, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“Hmm, I know.” Aaron sat up, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow before pulling you into his arms. “But for now,” he said, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“I think we both need a break,” he added, and you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling more content than you had in weeks. “You're right,”

You took a breath, snuggling closer to him on the couch. “Don't worry, babe. I’ll give you what you've been asking in no time.” He winked mischievously.

You couldn't help but feel giddy with anticipation at what that meant for you. For now, though, you were happy to be here with Aaron, basking in the afterglow.

part 3??