#SERIOUSLY its so. shakes my fist
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An Outlaws Christmas
Cowboy!reader x Wanda Maximoff
Summery: Wanda’s father has never liked you, but that won’t stop you from delivering a special gift this season.
Warnings: Mentions of firearms, fluff, Bucky being dramatic.
Words Count: 3.5k
“Bucky I swear to God, you better keep this thing steady.” You muttered between cold breaths, raising your foot to the next step, sensing the ladder tremble beneath you. Your eyes whipped downward, glaring at the cowboy.
He huffed, gripping the ladder tighter. “You just- had to date the rich girl with a four-story mansion didntcha?” He seethed, shifting his weight to support the item. “It’s fucking freezing man.”
Indeed, it was freezing. The middle of December in Fort Worth brought snow gleaming in the streets, covering trails and displeasing the horses. Which you had to use to get here in the first place, Wanda’s house that is. More precisely her fathers house, who wasn’t so keen about you. Why were you here? Simple.
Christmas, the season of giving, in any weather condition. And in any condition you always wanted to visit Wanda, even if Bucky complained about it. Especially tonight, when it was Christmas night. Where family’s would spend their nights together, huddled by the fireplace. Something you wanted to share with Wanda someday.
Something an outlaw like you couldn’t have, but you tried anyway. You tried for her, tried to change your rugged ways. Formerly around this time of year you never would’ve imagined a reason to celebrate this holiday. There was nobody special in your life, no family, and Bucky never liked Christmas ideals.
Now there was Wanda to be that someone. Beautiful, intelligent, amazingly talented Wanda. The girl who went for someone like yourself, a lowlife criminal trying to mend their ways. She saw the good in you, that you failed to see in yourself. And bit by bit she brought it out of you. Blackmail Barnes would constantly use on you, mocking you as the ‘cowboy who got whipped’ or ‘cowboy gone soft’ and his personal favorite ‘Casanova’. Despite the smacks you gave him each time he dared to use those terms, secretly you didn’t mind, it just meant you were closer to change than before. With that in mind, you didn’t let the opportunity to make Wanda your girlfriend pass by you, despite her parents disapproval.
Maybe if you got a better job, in time that would change too.
“Just keep the ladder steady Barnes, I’ll be finished quick.” You hollered over the wind, climbing up with haste. Looking through the windows you recognized them as the third floor, for the servants Wanda had told you. Rich people had rooms for everything nowadays.
“Quick my ass..” He scoffed.
“Was that sarcasm James?”
He let out a groan, pounding his fist on the ladder. “Just get your girl already”
“Alright alright…” You chuckled under your breath, hurrying up the ladder. You didn’t want to risk his impatience, the last thing you wanted was for him to throw you off. Fortunately, with the heavy snowfall, you’d probably only break one rib.
Although Wanda wouldn’t be happy, so you wouldn’t risk it.
Finally, the ladder came to an end, perfectly syncing with Wanda’s bedroom window. You were grateful to Mr. Williamson, your local carpenter, took your request for a 40 foot ladder seriously. Raising up your fist to knock–as you had done so many times before–you found yourself plagued with…hesitancy.
Pulling the poorly wrapped package out of your interior coat pockets, you examined the item. Its contaminants inside were beautiful, even you could admit, but the outside? Poorly wrapped crumbles of brown lunch bag paper with white string holding all the mess together? Was what was on the inside enough for Wanda?
Feeling another shake on the ladder you turned your head down, meeting the eyes of Bucky. He motioned to the window with his head, shooting you a thumbs up. You mouthed a small ‘thanks’ to him, right now wasn’t the time for insecurities. You’re sure Wanda would love the gift, or at least appreciate the gesture.
Clearing your throat, you tapped on the window, announcing yourself, “Wanda! It’s me! Do you mind opening the window?” You asked, waiting for the velvet curtains to part. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure she was there at the moment. You knew the tendency her parents had of venturing off into parties, dragging her along into them and you assumed Christmas parties were a thing.
A couple of seconds later, you heard shuffling from inside, the curtains opening and your smile widening. Wanda looked through the window, searching for you till her eyes landed on your figure covered in snow. Her eyes widened, her hand lifting up to her chin in shock, “Y/n?”
“Hi Darlin’.” You shot the bewildered woman a toothy grin, lifting your hand to wave at her. Carefully she opened the window slowly, making sure not to knock you over in the process. Her shock eventually subsided into worry, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you inside.
“What are you doing here? It’s cold out, you’ll get sick.” She fretted, patting your forearms to shake off the snow.
“I’ve got my jacket,” You shrugged, her hands staying on your chest. “and I’m here for you. I brought you something for Christmas.” You smiled, digging through your pockets, Wanda tilted her head curiously. Pulling out the paper present you presented it to her.
Her eyes looked down at the gift fondly, she could tell you had wrapped it but thankfully found it endearing. Her fingers ran delicately through the string tying it together, as she turned to look at you with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at her lips.
“Really?” She whispered, rubbing her hands on your chest before letting them hang on your shoulders. Her smile turned into a small smirk at the way you clearly leaned into her touch. “You didn’t have to Y/n…”
Truthfully you didn’t have to, Wanda had expressed how she was fine with you not celebrating the holiday, knowing how different your childhoods had been. She didn’t expect anything from you, a problem you wanted to change. You were capable enough for her to depend on you.
You blushed, enjoying the feel of Wanda’s fingers caressing the back of your neck. “But I want to, it’s custom to give your loved ones gifts and you’re mine.” You said sheepishly.
Wanda’s face softens at your words, keeping her gaze on you, searching for something more. And you think she’s going to close the distance but instead she moves her gaze to the door, squeezing your shoulders.
“Okay, but I’m afraid this’ll have to be quick.” She sighs “My Fathers due to be back soon, and you know how he feels about our relationship.”
At the mention of her father your expression turns into a slight grimace, the man was a governor, rich beyond belief and trying to get rid of old fashion ways. Including individuals such as yourself, outlaws. He had reason to, but still the thought of him left a bitter distaste in your mouth.
“He’ll learn to love me eventually.”
Wanda lets out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head in denial. “I highly doubt it, he’s very…traditional.”
Traditional. You hated that word.
“I could be traditional.” You tried to reason, even though you were the least bit traditional. It was worth a shot.
“With that rustic drawl of yours I’m not too sure Detka.” Wanda teased, leaning up to place a kiss on the corner of your lips. You wanted to correct her but she continued, “But that’s okay, personally I find it very charming.”
And then she closed the distance between you, savoring the way you let out a small sigh. You missed this, you missed her, you especially missed her touch. The way her hands guided yours down to her waist, encouraging you.
Wanda appreciated your kindness and respect towards boundaries. Making you all the more attractive in her eyes, the way you’d ask before anything, even hand holding, your charming gentleman like behavior. God, she wanted to rip those jeans off you.
You felt Wanda try to deepen the kiss which you eagerly gave into, granting her tongue permission. Her hands slipped inside your shirt, scratching the skin softly, causing your breath to hitch. Pulling away from the kiss with a gasp, resting your forehead against yours, catching your breath.
Wanda snickers between stolen kisses. “Damn it Wands…” You mumble affectedly, “This was ‘post to be about you.”
Pulling her head slightly away she stares up at you, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. “We have a couple minutes to spare, me and you.” Her hold tightened on your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ve missed you.”
Taking everything in you, you slow down the kiss much to Wanda’s disappointment. You chuckle shyly, remembering how she told you to be quick, ironic. “I’ve missed you too but not- today” You shudder with all seriousness, removing your hands from her hips.
“Mkay, I suppose we could wait for another moment.” She says, releasing her hold on you. “Besides you know I like taking my time with you.” She winks, laughing at your reaction.
“Quit teasin’ me…” You sigh, trying to shake off the blush dusting your cheeks, something that tended to happen with Wanda. The brunette only shrugged, feigning innocence. She took a hold of your wrist pulling you towards her bed, taking a seat and then patting the space beside her. Eagerly you settle in beside her, placing the gift on her lap.
“Open it.” You smile, anticipating the reaction.
Wanda fiddles with the present, tilting her head. “What is it?”
You snort “Well you won’t know until you open it Wands.”
Pursing her lips Wanda tugs on the strings, delicately unwrapping the gift which you didn’t really get, considering it wasn’t some high class material but kept quiet. Once the paper wrapping was off it revealed a rectangular shaped black leather box, it looked rather expensive. Feeling the leather Wanda confirmed her thoughts with widened eyes. Pure rich leather.
Her fingers traced the fabric, turning to stare at you. “Y/n what is this…” She whispered, you urged her to open the lid. And when she did the gasp that left her lips was almost comical. “Oh my gosh.”
“It’s a pendant.” You pointed out, feeling a little uncomfortable under her strong gaze. Did she like it? If only mind readers existed.
“Yes I know but, how?” She questioned, picking up the necklace before frowning. It was beautiful. “Detka…I don’t need you spending this much on me. This looks far too pricy.” Came her response, you sucked your teeth already expecting that answer from her. Wanda was never one to let you spoil her, knowing how much you made, odd considering you made a good amount…with a gun.
“Saving up money isn’t that hard, you’ve just gotta kill the right men to get it.” You smile sheepishly, a poor attempt to lighten the mood.
“Y/n.” Wanda glared, disliking your joke.
“I’m joking! Honest.” You laughed, putting your hands up in surrender. “Actually this jewel wasn’t so hard to find.”
“You found it?”
“Yup, mined it straight from that rock. Me and Barnes were chasing after a guy…” You hesitated, her raised eyebrow challenging you to finish that sentence. “To talk, down in the mines, when I found it. It reminded me of you, just like your eyes. So I plucked it open and took it to a jeweler. All's fair, no shooting involved.” You swore, crossing a finger across your heart.
Wanda just shook her head, rubbing her temple with her hand. You could tell she was upset at the revelation, she never appreciated hearing stories that could’ve killed you. Another thing you were trying to change, this one was more challenging as there were many people who wanted you dead, the difficult part was getting Wanda to understand that.
Both of you were stubborn that way.
“Does that…make it worse?” You asked carefully, debating whether to put a hand on her back, eventually deciding against and placing it back on your side. You didn’t want to overwhelm her. “I could get you one from the store if you’d like. I saw some real pretty ones there too.”
“That makes it all the more special to me, you mined it straight from the rock and fixed it up but you know how I feel about your ‘talks’.” She ended with a slightly twinge of annoyance. “I just worry about you and your job.”
You fiddled with the sheets underneath your fingertips, unsure what to say about that besides an apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”
Worrying was something no one had ever cared to do for you in your lifetime, not until Wanda. The feeling was strange…and something to get used to. You tried to be more understanding towards Wanda’s feelings, having picked up a book or two on how to maintain a healthy relationship, and Wanda was gladly by your side throughout the process.
“Its fine really, so long as you come back to me alive.” She empathized the last word, giving you a stern look. You nodded your head, agreeing with her. Lifting up her chin, carrying a satisfied look by your response, she trusted you. “If not I’ll come back and kill you myself.”
“Honey, me and you both know that you don’t know your way around a revolver.” You teased, leaning in forward to grasp her hand and place a small peck on the back of it.
“Just like you don’t know your way around the kitchen?” She retorted smugly, causing your eyebrows to furrow.
“I know my way…my meals are cooked with the intent of survival.”
“Clearly taste isn’t a part of your ideologies of ‘survival’.” She sneered, you tried to hide your smile but ultimately failed, laughing along with her.
The atmosphere had shifted, no longer holding that same tension as it did before. Worries and insecurities had left you, laughing along with the girl you had grown to love. You loved moments like these, carefree ones. Ones where you didn’t have to worry about wild snakes or bandits trying something. Ones where you could be happy with the person you loved most.
Admiring your girlfriend you couldn’t help yourself but to lean forward and cup her chin, connecting your lips together. It was a quick kiss, one you pulled away from as quick as it started, not permitting Wanda the chance to kiss back.
Instead she stared at you in shock, cheeks red. You had initiated something. Feeling flustered from the attention you looked down at your lap in embarrassment, which was quickly overtaken by Wanda who threw herself on you in glee, pampering kisses all over your face.
“I love you.” She whispered, kissing your cheeks. “Even if you’re a reckless idiot who climbs up four story mansions, and is a part time bounty hunter.” A kiss to your nose “But you’re my idiot.” A kiss to your forehead “Forever.” And finally your lips.
“Forever?”
“Mhm, mind putting this on me?” She requested, grabbing the necklace chain. You nodded happily, watching her shift in your lap to get a better view. Gently you pushed her hair aside, bringing the jewelry round her neck. It took a couple of frustrating attempts to get inside the clasp but eventually you managed, closing it.
Wanda thanked you with another kiss before moving herself off your lap and standing to get a view of the necklace in the mirror. Pushing yourself off the bed, you followed your girlfriend into her closet, admiring how divine the jewel looked on her.
“You look gorgeous.” You sighed, hearts racing at just the sight of her.
Wanda smiled, toying with the jewel. “It’s very pretty, I love it, thank you.” She reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a loving kiss on the cheek. You smile back at her, taking the initiative to bring your lips together this time, sharing a loving kiss. That’s all it was, love.
Wanda smiled happily into the kiss, proud of you for taking initiative again, slotting her arms back on your neck. Tilting her head to deepen the kiss she pulled away, “But you know what would’ve been nicer?”
“What?”
“A ring.”
“A ring?”
“If this was your way of claiming your mark on me, it was a nice attempt but usually people settle for rings.” She replied, playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. “Which I’m still waiting for, maybe that way you’ll have a reason to put that gun down for once. A family to come back to.”
A family.
Oh gosh.
Hoping it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious how much you enjoyed that idea, you barely managed to squeak out a small, “But you like the necklace right…?”
“Of course, it’ll be hard to take it off of me now.” Wanda retorted playfully “Unless you’re willing to try?”
“I um.” You swallowed dryly, definitely now you knew your face was looking as ripe as a tomato.
At your expression Wanda let out a hearty laugh, furthering your embarrassment. She slapped an arm at your chest playfully, “I’m just teasing Detka, breathe. Although I’m serious about that, I’ll wear it forever.”
“I’m glad you like it. Like really glad, I wasn’t too sure and Bucky wasn’t much help.” You said, recalling the way Bucky had fallen asleep midway through your shopping session in search of something for the girl.
“I can see that he's never been the romantic type, unless you count that disastrous encounter with Natasha as romance then, maybe.” Both of you cringed at the memory.
Sputters of a car garnered your attention distracting you from the girl in your arms. The noise sounded suspiciously like her fathers new automobile, quickly you removed your hands from Wanda’s body. Wanda too, let you go at impressive speeds, rushing to take a look outside the window. Peering outside she was met with the sight of her father, who was kicking the tire of his car, muttering curses under his breath.
Oh shit her father.
Oh shit Bucky.
“Bucky.” You gasped, collecting your things. “Shit shit shit, Buckys still outside.”
“My fathers here.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, your eyes widened, rushing to get out of there. Before you could get too far Wanda stopped you with a tug at your forearm, smacking a box at your chest.
“What’s this?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed, pushing the box back to get a better look at it. Quickly Wanda tugged your chin to meet her, placing one last peck on your lips before pulling the window open.
“Christmas gift.” She explained, “I don’t like what you do, and this isn’t me encouraging it, but you’re my girlfriend and I love you. So that’s that, now go before I change my mind.”
You nodded your head dumbly, unsure what she meant by all that, but climbed out anyway, waving her goodbye with the box secured in your hands.
Once you reached the bottom it was only then that you realized what she meant by those words, a new rifle stood in your hands. One of the best models out there. Grinning widely you took no time in ripping it out of the box, oh how you loved this girl.
—
“Fouty fucking minutes.” Bucky snarled, still shaking the snow off his body. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t white from head to toe. “Forty! You left me in the cold for Forty minutes!!” He shook his leather hat violently, slapping it around.
You sighed, taking the hat off your head and dusting yourself as well. In contrast you weren’t so full of snow, which just upset the man more. “I’m sorry Buck, I didn’t mean to take so long, but it was amazing.” The last part came out in awe.
Bucky placed his hat back on firmly, throwing a glare at you. He knew that voice, that puppy love coded tone of yours that only ever arose to haunt him when you were on the verge of an hour talk about Wanda. He debated shooting you right now before you started again.
“Forty minutes…I could’ve gotten frostbite you know, then who’s gonna cover you? Wanda? Like hell.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at you when you pulled out your new rifle. One of the newest models too, he had to admit he was quite envious.
“She’s so amazing…”
“Are you even listening to me?!” He said exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.
“She gave me a gun…” You sighed dreamily, hugging the firearm to your chest. “Not just any gun Bucky, but a Winchester Model. The expensive good kind too.” You exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulders. His face scrunched up, smacking you away.
Bucky huffed from beside you, continuing to walk since you were too lovesick to lead. The building wasn’t too far from here. “She got me a good revolver too, you ain’t special.”
“Yeah but…mines better.”
“That doesn’t even- whatever you still took too damn long in there.”
“I haven’t seen her in weeks!” You whined, trying to defend yourself.
Bucky let out a grunt, rolling his eyes. “Yeah and you won’t see her in weeks, with all that back pain you’re gonna get.”
“What?”
“I call dibs on the good mattress, you fucked with me too much this time.” He shrugged, opening the door to your shared building.
“That’s not-”
“And by the way, I can still see her lipstick all over you.” He motioned to your face, before pointing down your neck. “You might wanna cover up those hickeys too, Bottom.”
“James!”
#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x you#wanda x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda my beloved#wanda imagine#wlw post#cowboy au#cowboy#Wanda is rich rich#she’s sugar mommy material 🤞#but not in this story unfortunately 😔#Wanda’s worried girlfriend material here
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Good Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader
Collaboration with the amazing and wonderful @munson-blurbs 💚
Summary: When Eddie reminds you to take your antidepressants, little does he know that he’s stumbling onto one of your favorite kinks.
Note: This is a reminder to take your medicine if you haven’t today. Make Eddie proud.
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), praise kink, corruption kink, allusion to daddy kink, prescribed use of antidepressants
Words: 2.7k
“You’re seriously trying to tell me that Steven Tyler is better than James Hetfield?” Eddie gawks at you with a disbelieving shake of his head, turning off your Aerosmith cassette in protest.
“I didn’t say that; I said that he has a wider vocal range. Which is factual,” you retort, snapping the tape back in place and cranking up the volume.
But Eddie’s not buying it; he paces around your room and mumbles under his breath dramatically. Spotting the bright orange bottle on your dresser, he snatches it up and shakes it. “I thought these things were supposed to make your brain work better,” he teases. “Are you sure you took them today?”
It’s meant as a lighthearted joke, but his smile falters when he sees your gaze drop from where he’s putting on his little one-man show. “You did take your bye-bye sad pills today, right?”
You roll your eyes and grab the bottle from his grasp. “They’re called antidepressants,” you grumble, making no effort to hide your annoyance, “and, no; I didn’t.”
“I think my name for them makes them a little more fun,” he says as he flops onto your bed. “But why didn’t you take them?”
There’s no sense hiding anything from Eddie; he’s been your best friend for far too long and can see right through you. “I’m tired of having to rely on medication to be less sad,” you admit. “It’s, well, it’s fucking depressing.” The irony isn’t lost on you.
Eddie sighs and lifts himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You know, people need medicine in order for their blood pressure to remain stable. Them not wanting to take the meds isn’t going to do anything except have their blood pressure levels either plummet or go through the roof.”
Tilting your head at Eddie, you shoot him an unamused glare. “My blood pressure is fine.”
“Fine,” Eddie says as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Go tell Wayne to stop taking his blood pressure medication because he should rely on his heart the way it is. We’ll see what happens.”
The daggers you’re shooting at Eddie only get sharper because both of you know that you can’t come up with a retort for that. When you don’t soften, not even a bit, Eddie groans and drops his head back.
“C’mon,” he whines. “Be a good girl and take your pills.”
All of the muscles in your body seem to lock as one at the term. Heat begins to crawl its way up your body and you can only pray that it doesn’t appear on your face.
“W-What did you just say?”
“I said,” Eddie starts, as if being annoyed he has to repeat himself, “be a good girl and—oh. Christ, does that…?”
“Shut up,” you snap with far more venom than you intended. “Give me my meds and forget it, okay?”
Eddie’s looking at you like the cat who ate the canary. The smirk on his face is becoming more self-satisfied by the second. “Oh, absolutely not, sweetheart. I just found out that my best friend in the whole world has been hiding her secret kink from me.”
“I said, drop it.” You clench your fists in a feeble attempt to ward off the humiliation. “We’re not fucking, so it’s none of your business what any of my secret kinks are.”
“Kinks? As in more than one? Oh, do go on.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, but it fades when he sees your eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears. “Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed. We all have things that turn us on. Even pure, chaste, little ol’ me.”
Now that makes you laugh. “Okay, Mr. Celibacy over here…tell me one of yours. It’s only fair.”
“I think it would just have you clutching your pearls, Miss Good Girl.” He winces when you give his ankle a playful kick, but he obliges. “Fine, fine.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I like the idea of corrupting a girl. Sweet thing getting ruined by a freak like me.”
“You don’t get enough of that shit talk from the meatheads at school?” Idiots like Jason Carver seem to have a never-ending list of insulting nicknames for him, with Freak being their go-to.
Eddie shakes his head, frizzy brown curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, this is different. I don’t want to be called a freak. I just think the idea of a nice, innocent girl wanting me to corrupt her is hot.”
“Like…a good girl?” You’re trying to replicate his teasing tone from earlier, but it comes out more salacious. You bite your tongue, though the words have already escaped your lips.
Eddie just chuckles, somehow oblivious to your gaffe. “All right, well played. Laugh it up so we can call it even.”
You unscrew the cap of the bottle and take a pill, washing it down with the water you keep next to your bed. “But, Eds, I took my medicine! See?” You stick out your tongue with an exaggerated aaahh. “Just like a good girl.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow; he’s not sure how to interpret the situation. To be honest, neither do you. “Don’t play this game with me,” he says, suddenly serious. “Because you get to forget all about this, while I’m stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
He nods. “Plenty of experience.” He rubs his sweaty palm along his denim-clad thigh, his eyes never leaving your body.
“Lucky for you, good girls don’t let their best friend walk around with blue balls, do they?” This is it. It’s now or never. You walk over to the bed and straddle his waist, pressing your hands to his chest. His heart is beating a mile a minute.
Any semblance of self-control is gone as Eddie hisses, “They certainly fuckin’ don’t.” His lips crash against yours in a hungrily, sloppy kiss. His palms are on either side of your face as he holds you impossibly close. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s grinding up against you, creating a delicious friction between your thighs.
Eddie wraps a strong arm around your waist and lowers you down to the mattress. Lips never leaving yours, his hands slip up the inside of your shirt, his rough calloused fingers causing goosebumps to break out along your skin. When you’re forced to break apart for air, you take the opportunity to yank your shirt off over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Eddie copies your motions, so when he leans back in this time, your bra is the only material between your two chests.
“So pretty,” Eddie mumbles as his kisses move down to your jaw. One of his hands comes up to cup your breast through your black cotton bra. “Such a good girl for me.”
His words have you whining and arching your back. It forces your chest even more into Eddie’s hand, which has him smirking as he runs his nose up to your ear. He places a soft kiss there before reaching down for the button of your jeans.
“You really do like it when I call you that, huh? Tell me, baby, did you ever think about me calling you that before? Lay here at night with your hand between your legs, picturing me calling you my good little girl?”
An almost pornographic moan slips from your lips as he speaks, and you’re barely able to concentrate on lifting your hips up enough for him to pull your jeans and panties off.
“Wanna be your good girl,” you mumble, face heating up at the admission. “Just f’you.”
“Aww, how sweet,” Eddie coos, leaning to capture your lips in another soft, slow kiss. Your hands slide down his pale chest until they rest on the handcuff buckle belt that you’ve stared at so many times, always wondering what it would be like to take it off of him.
“Pants off, Eds,” you say.
“Excuse me?” he says against your mouth. “What was that?”
A small whine tumbles from your lips before you squeak out, “Pants off, please, Eddie.”
“Much better,” Eddie says with a wicked grin. “That’s how good girls get what they want. Take your bra off, baby. I want to see all of you.”
Reaching behind your back to unhook the garment, your eyes never leave Eddie’s form as he strips himself of his jeans and boxers. All the times you’d imagined Eddie naked in your bed…they didn’t do the real thing justice. He’s long and wider than you expected, and even more mouthwatering than you could’ve hoped for.
“Staring, huh?” Eddie says and you can hear the smirk in his voice before you even look up to see it confirmed on his face. “I’m flattered, sweetheart.”
“‘S bigger than I imagined,” you admit shyly. “Need—I mean, can you please use your fingers first?”
Eddie nods, running his pointer and middle fingers through your wet folds before pushing them inside you. “Aw, y’already soaked for me, baby? Barely even touched you.” He continues fingering you as he nips at your earlobe. “Y’sure you’ll be able to take my cock, pretty girl?”
The nicknames have your head spinning. “Y-yes, sir,” you choke out, whimpering when he stops moving his thick digits.
“Well, shit,” he says with a small chuckle. “Looks like you’ve unlocked a kink I didn’t even know I had.” He looks deep into your eyes as he orders, “call me ‘sir’ again.”
“Yes, sir,” you manage, feeling his thumb making slow circles over your clit. “Anything f’you. I’m a good girl f’you, sir.”
Eddie growls as he slides down so his nose is level with your sex. “Not a good girl. You’re my good girl.”
“Your good girl. Only yours, fuck!” You yelp loudly as he starts sucking on your swollen bud, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. Your legs tremble, which he takes as a sign to lap at your pussy with more vigor. “R-right there, sir. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop, sir.” You sound pathetic, but it’s working for both of you.
You feel the pressure mounting in your core as your orgasm washes over you. “I’m cumming, holy fucking shit, I’m fucking cumming—” But just as the coil begins to snap, he pulls away from you, chin shiny with your slick.
“What the fuck?”
“Ah ah,” Eddie chides. “Good girls wait so we can cum together.” He spits on his hard cock, fucking into his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Y’okay?” he asks, pushing the tip in only after you give him a resounding yes. The feeling of him inside you is one of ecstasy, and you wrap your legs around his to pull him impossibly closer. No one has ever filled you the way he has; no one has ever stretched you so deliciously.
“Eddie,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he buries himself within your walls. “I-I mean, sir, y’feel…fuck…feel s’good.”
“Me?” Eddie laughs incredulously as he continues thrusting into you. “No, baby. Nothing compares to how good you fuckin’ feel. Nice an’ tight, aren’t you, angel?”
The new nickname sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, and you bite your lip as you squeak out an agreement.
“Tell me, my sweet girl,” Eddie growls, cock twitching within you, “what would your friends think if they knew the freak was balls deep in your pussy right now?”
You can only moan in response, and Eddie beams at your apparent wordlessness.
“Fucked the words right out of you? Cute little head of yours can only think about my cock, hm?”
“Feels…feels…” You wrack your brain for any descriptors for the waves rippling through your body, but you come up empty-handed; rather, empty-headed.
Eddie’s all-too amused by this, pistoning his hips as he beckons, “Come on; good girls use their words. How’s it feel, baby?”
“So good, Eds. Y’make me feel so good.” It’s barely two sentences, but it placates him.
“Aw, you like the way my cock makes you feel?” A sneer crosses his face. “Like when the freak’s cock splits you open? How about when I do this?”
Before you can register his words, he’s bringing his thumb to your already overstimulated clit and rubs it while fucking you. “I know you like that, angel. Can feel you getting tighter around me. Fuck, anyone make you feel this good before?”
“N-No, just you,” you manage, another wanton moan escaping your lips.
“Good girl, using her words f’me.” Your pussy clenches at the praise, spurring Eddie on further. “Just wanna wreck you. No one else can have you but me.”
“Only yours,” you slur in your cock drunk state. Every nerve in your body feels alive as Eddie pounds into you. Your eyes flutter closed so when Eddie leans down and flicks his tongue over one of your nipples, it surprises you. “Oh!”
“Can’t forget about these gorgeous tits, baby girl,” Eddie purrs. “They deserve some love as well.” He laves his tongue up and down the swell of your breast before sucking the nipple into his mouth. A new decibel of a whimper leaves your throat, and it has Eddie smirking around the hardened bud in his mouth.
Your hand comes up and tangles in Eddie’s hair, fingers ever so lightly digging into his scalp as he gives your nipple a particularly harsh suck. He pulls off with a pop, hips still pounding into yours vigorously. The motion of your bodies causes your bed to shake and your headboard to bang repeatedly and obnoxiously against the wall.
Eddie gives the same attention to your other breast, exploring the soft skin with his tongue and lips before ravishing your nipple. It only adds to the intense pressure that’s already built up in your core.
“Ed—Sir, please. I need—”
His teeth grazing your nipple has your sentence ending with a strangled gasp.
“I know what you need, baby,” Eddie coos, leaning up to hover his face over yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Letting the freak use your tight little pussy. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you, sweet thing?”
“Yes,” you whine, practically a sob. “S-Sir?”
“What is it, princess?” Eddie asks, teeth clenched as he tries to stave off his impending orgasm.
“Want you to cum inside me.”
“Fuck,” he growls. It takes him a second to regain enough composure to be able to respond. “Yeah? That’s what my good girl wants? To have the freak’s cum deep inside of her? Want to feel it dripping out of you and down your legs? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll fill you up nice and good.”
Eddie bucks his hips a few more times before he cums, fucking his spend up into you with primal groans. “Take it—fuck, take my cum. Jus’ like a good girl.” He doesn’t stop until he’s soft and panting, flopping onto your chest without daring to pull out.
The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breaths and relishing in the post-sex glow. A post-sex glow that you’re sharing with your best friend. Your best friend, Eddie Munson, just had his dick inside you while you called him ‘sir’ and he called you ‘good girl.’
“Um, Eddie?” you manage, and he lifts his head as he finally withdraws and lays down next to you. “What…what exactly did we just do?”
“Well, when two people love each other…” He starts to tease you, but his face blanches when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean, like, as friends…”
“Right. When two people really love each other as friends, they discover each other’s kinks and have mind-blowing sex.”
Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. “Mind-blowing, huh? You know that flattery works with me.”
“‘M serious,” you say, trying to redirect the conversation back to your original thought. “Where do we go from here?”
He considers this, tongue poking out between his lips in contemplation. “I’m spent; you wore me out with your insatiable appetite for lust.” He chuckles as you flip him off. “So I say we take a nap, and when we wake up, we can see what other kinks we wanna explore.”
“What other kinks do you have?” You rest your head on his chest and snuggle in as he wraps a protective arm around you, kissing the top of your head.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he taunts, yawning as he says it. “Sweet dreams, angel.”
“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”
“Oh, fuck me.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fic
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mrs ma’am… dick pic jason todd is driving me up the WALL!!! please a spare crumb of our idiots 🙏🙏
they're back!! i was having withdrawal symptoms from not writing them for so long. this turned out smuttier than i intended. whoops.
**
He’s bored.
The constant string of messages serves as a concrete confirmation that he’s got too much time on his hands and that his mind has started to wander.
Part of you doesn’t mind. It’s nice to have a distraction from the last minute birthday party bustling around you. But that other part of you–that almost constantly nervous part–is wondering what exactly he’s up to.
Leave him alone for too long and he turns into something mischievous.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s found himself pulling a prank just because he’s nothing else to do.
First it was wrapping everything in your bedroom in tin foil. Second it was replacing all the photos in your apartment with pictures of Bob Ross. And the last prank he pulled was moving every single piece of furniture an inch to the left.
Your toes remind you of the pain that last prank caused and you’re quickly worried about what he might have planned this time.
It wouldn’t surprise you if he stole every single fork from your apartment and hid them in a stupid place. Hell, it wouldn’t faze you if you came home to find he’s changed the locks.
But you’re not expecting him to send you a photo.
The notification flashes up at the top of your screen and there’s a quick, sudden skip of your heart. You’ve found that it does that a lot lately when it comes to Jason. Found that there’s some niggling emotion you can’t quite unravel blooming behind your ribs.
He makes you nervous.
Hiding your phone from view you duck into a more quiet area of the party and open the message. A soft whine stumbles out from behind your teeth and you feel relentless heat kickstart in your gut.
He’s sprawled out on your bed.
And he’s got his hand wrapped around his cock.
Your mouth drops open and you almost start drooling at the sight of him. Between your legs aches and for a split second, you wonder if you could get away with rubbing one out right here. The fabric of your underwear starts getting damp, you feel it stick to the wet lips of your pussy and it’s just another sensation driving you half insane.
Jason’s hand can barely fit around his cock. The tips of his fingers almost don’t meet and you glance at your own hand, now filled with the knowledge that you would need to use both hands to jerk him off.
The head is flushed a deep red and the photo catches the slick shine of precum beading up from his slit. You want to taste him. You want him to taste you. Part of you can hardly breathe.
You: are you seriously jerking off in my fucking bed??
Jay: yup
Jay: its a shame you're at that party
Jay: i could've given you a show
An idea sparks white hot in your brain and there’s the edge of a smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth.
You: send me a video
You: wanna watch you
Jason doesn’t reply and you shift from foot to foot. Impatient. Horny. Rubbing your thighs together to try and starve off the ache in your cunt, your eyes lock on the sign for the bathroom. Throwing a precautionary glance around you, you shift and beeline for the door, thankful that there’s no one lingering in the hall.
Locking yourself in a stall at the end you close the toilet seat and sit down, fingers drumming across your thigh.
Jay: sent a video
Opening it up you’re immediately greeted with a choked off moan. The camera shakes for the smallest second before it focuses and you feel yourself tighten up, feel your pussy leak an embarrassing amount of arousal into your underwear.
Stroking his cock from base to tip Jason’s hips kick up to meet his hand. All the muscles in his abdomen catch and release and the flex of them makes you sweat. Thick veins run up the underside of his shaft and when Jason drags his fingers over them, he twitches, cock slapping against his belly.
Spitting into his palm Jason fists the leaking tip and you watch as his spit runs down the length of him before dribbling over his balls. Squeezing at the head he groans and you whimper in response.
Fucking up into his tight fist you hear the wet squelch it makes and then, ever so softly, Jason says your name.
The video cuts off and you tip your head back.
You: you're trying to kill me aren't you??
You: all this because i ate the last of your cereal
You: you should be ashamed
The bathroom door slams open and multiple giggling voices echo when your name is called out, “Are you in here? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. We’re cutting the cake, come on!”
“Yeah, I'm here. Give me a second.” You answer, trying to keep your voice level, even.
You: you're meeting me once this party is over right??
You: i'll save you some cake
Jay: text me when you’re ready to leave and i’ll meet you outside
Jay: i expect two pieces minimum to make up for eating my cereal
Jay: anything less than that and i’ll remove all the towels from your apartment
You: fuck you Todd
You: also thanks for the video you look really pretty jerking off
You: double also if you leave a mess on my bed i’ll kill you
You: 🔪🔪🔪
**
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader smut#jason todd x you smut#jason todd smut#red hood x reader#red hood x reader smut#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#ella writes#asks#answered#anonymous#💕💕
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Absurdly Cute
Summary: Boredom leads the crew to find ways to entertain themselves at the captain's expense... An amusement that could cost you your live.
@fanaticsnail this is your fault! My stupid obsession for them is your fauuuuult! 🤣
Word count: 800
Masterlist
The Victoria Punk drifts peacefully on calm waters. The atmosphere on board is serene, with no wind to propel the ship and no clouds to threaten its tranquility. There's no rush either, so the crew takes the opportunity to relax leisurely on the deck, some enjoying the time to rest, while others seek ways to entertain themselves.
The captain is among the first group, peacefully taking a nap. Using some sacks as makeshift pillows, he rests with his arms folded behind his head, his chest gently rising and falling with each relaxed breath.
A cautious distance from him, Killer, Heat, Wire, and you are sitting in a circle on the floor, playing cards silently to pass the time. After a few rounds where Killer has emerged as the victor and Heat as the runner-up, it’s now down to a tiebreaker between Wire and you to determine the loser of the losers.
“... the two of hearts and the three of clubs,” you say as you drop both cards into the pile, revealing a terrible hand.
“Ace of spades and ace of clubs,” Wire announces his hand immediately, grinning mischievously.
“Sorry Y/N, you suck at this game.”
Giving a slight kick to the pile of cards, you cross your arms over your chest. “This game is fucking bullshit.”
“Bullshit or not, you lost the bet,” Killer states, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a small mysterious object.
You hold out your palm for him to hand it over. "Fine".
When he drops the tiny item into your hand, Wire, Heat, and you lean over to inspect it.
Seeing what it is, you let out a groan of frustration. The corners of Heat’s lips curl as much as his facial muscles physically allow, and Wire's shoulders start shaking uncontrollably as he brings both hands to his mouth to stifle his laughter.
“Seriously, guys?” you ask with a mix of fear and disbelief, glancing toward the imposing figure of the sleeping captain.
“Seriously,” you hear Killer’s voice through his mask.
You analyze the contentious object again, glowing innocently in your palm, and let out a exasperated sigh.
“... He’s going to kill me.”
Heat and Killer shrug nonchalantly.
“A bet is a bet,” Wire adds, still wearing his malicious grin. “Go on.”
Rolling your eyes back, you clench your fist tightly around the small item and stand up, delaying the inevitable no longer.
On tiptoe, with slow and calculated steps, you start approaching the captain, praying that the wood doesn't creak beneath your feet.
"Kil, how much more stuff like this do you have?" You hear your shipmates chatting in low voices behind you.
“Oh, you have no idea...”
You shake your head to concentrate and ignore their comments. Your senses are on high alert, attuned to any factor that might work against you and wake the captain, like a sudden gust of wind or a seagull squawking overhead.
Killer, Wire, and Heat's vigilant gaze are fixed upon you, silently tracking your cautious movements. As you draw closer to the captain you carefully hover over him, swallowing hard and extending your arms to keep your balance.
An ill-timed fly buzzes over Kid's face, making you freeze as his nose wrinkles at the annoying sound. With your heart in your throat, you realize that your life depends on how deeply he is sleeping.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
His eyes remain closed, but he raises his human hand to lazily swat at the pesky insect, then scratches his temple before putting his arm back under his head to continue sleeping.
You remain completely still, not daring to move a muscle, and look at your crewmates with a pleading gaze. They quickly urge you on, Heat mouthing Go with exaggerated movements, while Wire gives you a thumbs-up.
You furrow your brow and give them a slight nod, then shift your attention back to Kid.
Shaking your shoulders and rotating your neck to ease tension, you draw in a breath that you don't release, and close the distance between you and Kid's mechanical arm. Now or never, you tell yourself with resolve as you open your fist, revealing the small object in your palm alongside a mark with its shape engraved in your flesh.
Gripping the magnetized item firmly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue poking out, you bring it closer to the metal surface with meticulous precision until it makes contact, adhering with a faint click. With a gesture of victory, you step back to admire your feat:
Adorning the imposing mechanical limb of the dreaded Captain Eustass Kid, gleams a small and absurdly cute Hello Kitty magnet.
******
It isn't until late at night, after having spent the entire day exchanging knowing glances, nudges, and silent laughter with the rest of the crew, that you hear him.
"W-what the HELL is this!? AGAIN!? I swear, I’m gonna fucking KILL YOU ALL!!"
#eustass kid x reader#kid eustass#eustass captain kidd#eustasscaptainkid#eustass kid#one piece eustass#eustass x reader#x reader#one piece#one piece kid#captain kid#jintaka stuff#silly comedy#op kid pirates#funny kid pirates#kid pirates
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compromise (explicit)
genre: twilight AU, straight-up cracky-ass porn, do not look @ me
pairing: vampire!taehyung x human!reader x werewolf!jungkook
summary: you're torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don't have to choose.
word count: 10k 😬
contains: explicit sexual content~*~ no seriously like i wrote this with my dick it is EXCLUSIVELY twilight-flavored porn sdhfjdkgsdf - taehyung is a vampire, jungkook is a werewolf, reader is in love with both of them, they can't stand each other, yktfv !!!! this is actually an incredibly poorly negotiated threesome, so uh, don't do it like this kids!!!!! just enjoy the filth 🫡 which specifically contains: a m/m/f threesome ft. mid-sex jealousy lol, biting, nipple play, clit stim and fingering, clit biting 💀, cunnilingus, spitting, neck.... licking?, a lot of body temperature descriptions bc we're sticking to steph's hot/cold lore bc i think it's funny idk, blowjobs/throat fucking, spit-roasting, first times, unprotected sex, some mildly improbable sex positions because they both have superhuman strength lmfao, a smidge of dirty talk/praise kink, ass play, anal sex, good ol' DP, annnnnd the grand finale: neck-biting and blood-drinking 🤭 also tae and jk throw "slurs" like 'leech' and 'dog' at each other the whole time sdfsdfjkf 💜
A/N: SURPRISE! AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I WILL NOT BE EXPLAINING MYSELF BUT UHHHH ENJOY SOME NONSENSE!!!!
thank you to @haliiimede for the incredible banner 🥺
read on AO3!
~*~
You’ve been on edge all evening, watching, waiting.
As the sun slips below the horizon and reddens the sky on its departure, you try not to read it as an omen of what’s to come. Night pours out black like it always does, dark blanketing the lush green outside your bedroom window, but your stomach refuses to untwist.
Not even the touch of Taehyung’s hand can settle your nerves, despite how familiar it is, cold as ice, hard as marble. He’d climbed in your window at dusk, the way he’s done every night for months now, but tonight the air between you is heavy. Tonight you can barely look at him.
“Jagiya,” his hundred-year-old voice drips, sweet like honey, rich like blood in the quiet of your room. “What’s wrong?”
You haven’t even opened your mouth to answer when his head snaps up, clearly alerted by some sound your weak human ears have yet to pick up on.
Right on time, then.
“Tae,” you murmur softly, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb strokes lovingly over the flawless perfection of his face as your human eyes meet his: rich ochre, deep enough to drown in. He’s well-fed; you made sure that would be the case when you planned this. You need every possible element on your side tonight.
He cuts you off with a growl before you can say more than his name. “Why is that dog here?”
The word spat through his clenched teeth sends a fresh wave of anxiety spiraling through your bloodstream. “Please don’t call him that, Tae.” Your voice is barely more than a whisper. “He’s my best friend. I wanted the three of us to talk.”
You realize you can hear it now, coming up the road: the distant but unmistakable rattle of Jungkook’s motorcycle. It draws closer and closer, until it’s underscored by the crunch of gravel as he pulls into the driveway. When Jungkook finally kills the engine, the silence in your bedroom feels loud.
Taehyung doesn’t speak, but you can tell he’s furious, every muscle in his body pulled tight. His hands curl into fists, flexing restlessly at his sides, and even the well-defined line of his jaw jumps like he’s holding back the urge to tear something apart.
You do the only thing you can think of to calm your boyfriend: you take his face in your hands and pull him in for a deep kiss.
As your lips touch, it finally sinks in: how scared you are about tonight– you’re shaking like a leaf in Taehyung’s arms, even though you know he’d never hurt you. At least not purposefully.
The heat of your mouth seems to distract Taehyung a little, but there’s still fury in his kiss, in the soft growls that he can’t quite suppress as his tongue rolls over yours.
Your bedroom door creaks on its hinges, and you pull away from Taehyung just in time to see a bright smile drop off Jungkook’s face as he stands in the threshold. Your heart plummets into your stomach. Three seconds in and you’ve already ruined everything. How very human of you.
Moving an inch back from Taehyung, you unwind your arms from around his neck and try to regard both of them at once. This conversation suddenly feels much harder to navigate than you’d anticipated.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you say softly. Your best friend is practically glowering in the doorway now.
“I thought you wanted to talk. I don’t need to see him turn you. Or suck your soul out, or whatever.”
You try to stay calm, because someone has to. “It was just a kiss, Jungkook. I meant it, I do want to talk.” Your gaze flits from Jungkook to Taehyung. “To both of you.” As your eyes find Jungkook’s again, you pat the bedspread on your other side. “Will you come sit down?”
Taehyung makes a noise so otherworldly that chills rip up your spine, enough to make you shiver. “He’s fine where he is.”
“Tae,” you turn back to him, your face twisted with emotion. “Please.”
Jungkook crosses into the room with an unhurried confidence despite the slight hesitation in his steps, as if he’s preparing for your boyfriend to lunge at any moment but sure he’d win the fight. To your surprise, he doesn’t follow the path you’d indicated to join you and Taehyung. Instead, he moves to stand in front of you at the foot of the bed, and then–
Your jaw drops as Jungkook, still slow, still confident, sinks to his knees in front of you and Taehyung.
“How’s this?”
“Swearing your loyalty, mutt?” Taehyung snaps.
Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Not to you.”
“Thank you, Jungkook,” you murmur softly. “And thank you for coming here. And I’m sorry I haven’t told either of you why.”
“You didn’t even tell me he was coming!” Taehyung interjects, indignant, and you sigh.
“You’re right. And I should have. But you can see why I was scared to, right? I didn’t think either of you would agree if you knew you’d be in the same room.”
They both shrug a little, like they can’t argue with that.
It all starts to well up in your chest before you can focus on remaining rational, the way you’d planned to. The emotions, the pain. Your very human weaknesses.
“I don’t think you two realize how hard this is for me. How hard it is that you feel the way you do about each other,” you begin. “Neither of you can know what it’s like to wake up and feel like you’re being torn in half. But that’s every day for me.”
Jungkook tries to say your name, but falls quiet again when you shake your head.
“It doesn’t feel fair. Any of this. It’s not fair that you’re both…” you pause, searching for the word. “…superhuman, something I may never understand. It’s not fair that I love you both, in such different but equally strong ways, so much sometimes that it feels like my heart might give out. And it’s not fair that you hate each other. That you can’t even be in the same room.”
Taehyung’s icy touch on your skin makes you shiver, and you realize he’s wiping away errant tears that have started to roll down your face.
“And it’s not fair,” you continue, “that you expect me to choose. That there’s supposed to be an answer here. I’ve nearly lost each of you trying to figure it out. So my choice is that I won’t choose. I don’t want either of you if I can’t have both of you.”
“What?!” Taehyung’s eyes flash when he pulls back, as quickly as if you’d just slapped him.
“Listen to me,” you command, your voice laced with determination now. “Taehyung. I love you. You are my soulmate. My person. I want to spend the rest of our lives with you.” You sniff a little, taking a big breath in, and your chest shakes as you let it out again. “But all of that is also true of Jungkook. And I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”
Taehyung blinks, dazed, like he can't believe what you’re saying. When you glance down at Jungkook, still knelt on the floor, a smile is ghosting over his mouth.
“That leech really didn’t understand our bond, huh?” Jungkook asks softly, as if only you can hear the question. “Didn’t understand that I was the one who was there for you, who picked up the pieces when he fucked off to Paris to—”
“Jungkook,” you cut him off, your tone a warning. “Stop. This goes both ways. I love you, but you also need to understand that my feelings for Taehyung are just as strong. That’s not changing even though we’ve hurt each other. We’ve all hurt each other.”
Jungkook falls silent again, and you turn your gaze back to Taehyung. Your heart aches at the unmistakable betrayal you see in his eyes.
“Taehyung,” you breathe. “Please. I can’t be without you. Without either of you. I’m just asking you to try. For me.”
“Well, I don’t need to mull it over.” Before you have a chance to react to his words, Jungkook surges up and kisses you hard on the mouth, and you make a soft noise of surprise against his lips.
You know you should pull away and tell him to stop, but Jungkook’s touch is warm enough to melt, and you lose your focus as your whole world is knocked entirely off-axis. Your head spins when his tongue traces over your bottom lip, and it’s suddenly hard to think about anything else.
Taehyung growls, low in his throat, like the distant rumble of thunder. It’s enough to drag you back, and you break the kiss with a gasp.
As if he can read the expression on your face, Jungkook wordlessly drops down onto the bed on the other side of you. You slide a hand over the firm muscles of his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze before turning to face your boyfriend.
Taehyung’s gaze traces over the floorboards, and it’s clear a thousand thoughts are running through his mind, thoughts you wish you could hear for yourself.
“Please hear me, Tae,” you try again, your voice low. “I want you. All of you. Intimately. I know you want that too.” The subject makes his gaze snap up, and you reach for him, a desperate attempt to try and keep him with you.
When you grab Taehyung’s hand, his ice-cold skin is a shock compared to the heat of Jungkook’s body under your other palm. But it’s familiar, it’s comforting, the touch of this man, whom you love so intensely that it terrifies you.
“And I know you’ve been scared to try. Scared of yourself and what might happen,” you continue, and Taehyung nods slowly, his eyes searching yours. “But… maybe this is it. Doesn’t it make sense? If Jungkook is here, it might be easier for you to stay in control with me.”
“And I can protect her if you don’t,” Jungkook adds with a smirk.
“So please, Taehyung.”
He stares at you, and you stare back, waiting for his answer. It finally comes in his husky voice, spoken as reverently as a prayer.
“I would do anything for you.”
The admission is chased by his hand at the back of your neck, pulling you in for a fierce kiss. You’re so relieved that you feel yourself near the verge of tears again, despite the icy thrill that dots up your spine as his mouth moves against yours. Taehyung’s teeth just barely scrape over your bottom lip, and you can’t help whimpering into his mouth in response.
Like he’s trying to keep up, you almost instantly feel the heat of Jungkook’s mouth against your skin, his lips and tongue trailing down your neck and along the stretch of your shoulder. You make another soft noise at the way his hands start to roam over your body, restless, searching.
“Take my clothes off,” you pull away from Taehyung’s mouth to command, your eyes flitting up to his. “Let me give myself to you.” You turn to Jungkook. “To both of you.”
In a flash, Jungkook has your shirt over your head, and then it’s his turn to find your lips again, and he’s somehow even more passionate than when he first kissed you tonight.
“So fucking perfect,” Jungkook growls between kisses, and the rasp in his voice makes your nipples tighten under the thin fabric of your bralette. “Wanted this for so long.”
While Jungkook licks into your mouth, Taehyung’s nimble fingers find their way to the button of your jeans, and you lean back on your hands to give him better access. His touch is delicate as he undoes your zipper and starts to shimmy the denim down your legs.
“You too,” you break away from Jungkook to murmur, and you reach down to finish pulling your pants off. “I want to see you both.”
As they each move back from you to stand and disrobe, there’s a tense moment where Taehyung and Jungkook regard each other, and then Jungkook lunges and you scream.
You squeeze your eyes shut at a terrifying sound of something being ripped apart. Panic rises in your chest and makes it impossible to breathe— you don’t know why this was a good idea, you don’t know what you expected, of course this could never work, how stupid could you be— and then you hear Taehyung huff a dark laugh, seemingly unharmed, and your eyes snap open.
And he is. He’s fine. His shirt, however, has been reduced to tatters on your bedroom floor. Jungkook’s smirk is that of a cat who’s just swallowed a canary.
“Very mature of you, mongrel. I take it I’m meant to repay the favor?” Taehyung scoffs, and you keep your eyes open to watch him easily tear Jungkook’s shirt from his body, as if it were made of tissue paper. Your head spins.
Attempting to remember how to breathe is made all the more difficult when you watch them both strip down to their boxers. Your heart flutters in your chest as you realize in this moment how truly beautiful they both are.
Jungkook’s body in particular takes you aback– despite still having the enviably small waist you’ve always teased him for, the rest of him has certainly filled out over the years. He’s broad-shouldered and thick, with firm definition in his arms and abdominals that ripple as he reaches down to shimmy out of his pants.
It’s hard to believe this is the same kid you spent your childhood summers with, sharing secrets and making up stories, the one you used to call ‘Boba Ball’ or ‘Triangle Kimbap’ during the years he refused to cut his hair.
In stark contrast, Taehyung’s body feels like coming home. He’s striking as he always is, all long, lean muscles, a hand-carved statue come to life. Though it’s well into the dead of night now, you swear you can still see the glimmer shifting under his skin, like he’s stepping into full sunlight as he moves toward you. He’s just as brilliant, just as blinding, even in the dim light of your bedroom. Perfection incarnate.
You know it for a fact, can feel it thrumming behind your ribs, as true as the steady beat of your human heart. You love them both, unconditionally and irrevocably.
“Jagiya,” Taehyung breathes as he stands over you where you sit at the edge of the bed. “You’re glowing.” His hand cups your cheek, and you turn your head to press a kiss to the freezing center of his palm.
“I’m so happy, Tae,” you whisper, and he’s smiling softly when you glance back up.
“That’s all I want.”
You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and then Jungkook steps in beside him, and it’s like every piece in your heart slots perfectly into place.
“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks. Their superhuman reflexes move so quickly, you feel like you’ve only just begun to nod when two sets of hands are already on you, dragging you up to the head of the bed like you’re light as a feather.
Together, they push you down into the mattress, and then two mouths start to trace over every inch of your skin they can find. They alternate fluidly, everywhere at once: the brush of full lips, the sharp-sweet bite of teeth, the wet wash of a tongue. Your eyes roll back at the overwhelming sensations, and though you can initially tell them apart by the sharp contrast in their skin temperature, it all eventually melds together in your mind until you’re not sure where Taehyung ends and Jungkook begins.
The four hands on your body make quick work of stripping you out of your bralette and panties, and you’re whimpering and writhing and drenched with arousal when a warm tongue circles your nipple while a cold hand starts to creep up towards your center.
Jungkook sucks firmly on the stiff bud in his mouth, and you keen. “Fuck, Koo, oh god.”
Not to be outdone, you feel Taehyung’s teeth very lightly graze over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and your hips shudder as you groan again.
There’s a wet pop as Jungkook releases your breast from his mouth with a soft laugh. “She squirms.”
“She does.” Taehyung’s breath ghosts over your entrance as he answers. He presses a glossy kiss to the crease of your thigh, then slips two smooth, delicate fingers into the wet heat of your pussy, and you outright moan.
“She’s vocal,” Jungkook remarks.
Taehyung crooks his fingers to make you cry out again, and he falls into a steady stroking motion. “She is.”
“You’ve done this before?”
Your breath coming in shallow pants now, you manage to lift yourself up onto your forearms and interject. “We’ve never– not all the way.”
Taehyung smirks at Jungkook as his digits squelch inside of you. “We’ve done enough.”
Jungkook’s eyes drop to your face, and you meet his gaze. He cups one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it in his palm before taking the peak of your nipple between his fingers. You whine as he gently rolls the bud in a circle. “What have you done?” he asks, his voice softer this time.
“What do you think, jagi?” Taehyung answers confidently before you can respond, your pussy still gripping tight around his fingers. “Want to show wolfboy here how well you suck my cock?”
Heat flushes your face at the thought, and Jungkook practically snarls down the bed at Taehyung. “Or maybe you can show me how you eat her out, and then I’ll show you how it’s really done.”
Taehyung’s expression falters just the slightest amount, but it’s enough for Jungkook’s keen senses to notice. “Wait– you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
You shake your head, struggling to keep up, your mind fighting not to give into the euphoria of their hands continuing to work your body. “We haven’t. Tae’s not–”
“What, not a man?” Jungkook snaps, paired with a tug of your nipple. “I could’ve told you that.”
The sigh that escapes your mouth is edged with a moan as Taehyung’s thumb brushes lightly over your clit. “He’s not ready, Jungkook.”
“I’m sorry, he doesn’t want to eat you out because he’s too scared he’ll fucking eat you?”
Taehyung scoffs between your legs, but Jungkook is already shifting to his knees, clearly having heard enough. “That’s it. Turn the fuck over.”
You appreciate the consideration when Jungkook guides you to sit up and get on hands and knees across the width of the bed, nudging you forward so that he can kneel down behind you on the mattress. The positioning is ideal for Taehyung to meet you on the other side.
There’s a cold flash in Taehyung’s eyes as he circles the bed, not unlike a predator stalking prey. Watching him sends more arousal flooding through you, enough that the crux of your thighs is painted with slick when Jungkook encourages them apart from behind.
You can see Taehyung’s length straining against the confines of his underwear as he stands in front of you, and he laughs softly when you reach up to pull him out, too greedy to wait. He’s beautiful, long and hard and weighing heavy in your palm. Your eyes roll up to meet Taehyung’s, deep amber and brimming with lust as you press gentle kisses to the rim of his cockhead.
The wet smack of your mouth is chased with a fluttering whimper when Jungkook slides two fingers through your dripping folds to roughly part your pussy lips. You can feel yourself dripping, can hear the dark hum Jungkook emits in response.
“You look delicious,” he rasps. “Can’t believe this parasite would rather have your blood.”
In hopes it will distract him from Jungkook’s insult, you choose that moment to swallow Taehyung down, and your plan seems to work. Taehyung’s fingers snake through your hair and his head tips back as you stretch your lips over his shaft. You find yourself whining softly around him at the feeling alone, the smooth press of his cock against your tongue.
You hollow your cheeks around Taehyung and slowly begin to suck along his length, eliciting a deep hiss from him, your hand pumping in time at the base where your mouth can’t reach.
It takes a conscious effort to hold in a moan when you feel the first touch of Jungkook’s tongue, dragged thick up your slit like a hot knife through butter. You arch your spine, your body begging for more, and his hands grip the soft flesh of your ass as he spreads you open and indulges.
Jungkook eats you like a man starved, shoving his tongue into your pussy with enough force to slide Taehyung’s cock further into your mouth. Taehyung’s tip teases into the back of your throat, and he groans when you swallow to urge him over the edge.
“Fuck, jagiya,” he pants as you continue to bob up and down, relentless, spurred on by every sloppy pass of Jungkook’s tongue. “If only that mutt could see how good you look with my cock in your mouth.”
Pleased at Taehyung’s praise and choosing to ignore his dig at Jungkook, you lean forward to take even more of him, until the whole of his glass-hard cock is crammed down your throat. You can feel drool welling up on your tongue, can feel your muscles trying not to choke around him, made all the more difficult by the way Jungkook is steadily fucking his tongue into you now.
The shudder of your throat matches the tremble in Taehyung’s hips, and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to push you past the limits of what a human can take.
There’s a part of you that wishes he would.
You gag softly as you pull off of him, giving both of you a moment to collect yourselves. One of Taehyung’s large hands pets over your hair, encouraging, and you drop your forehead down to rest in the crook of your elbow. Without the distraction of sucking Taehyung’s cock, the pleasure of Jungkook’s hot mouth on your pussy is overwhelming, and you can’t help moaning into the mattress.
“God, just like that, Koo.”
Managing to pull yourself back up for more, you coax a soft groan from Taehyung as you start to kitten lick up his shaft. Jungkook pulls away from your center just as you take Taehyung into your mouth again.
“You taste so fucking good. Bloodsucker doesn’t know what he’s missing. But he can enjoy my sloppy seconds.”
The sudden wet sound of Jungkook spitting is so loud that even Taehyung flinches, and your cunt clenches at the slick-splatter feeling. Wasting no time, Jungkook dives back in, eagerly shoving the mix of saliva and arousal into your entrance with his tongue, and it’s all you can do to focus on the cock in your mouth.
Taking Taehyung faster this time, you build up to a steady rhythm, your hands fisting the bed sheets beneath you as you swallow him down. You make an audible gulping sound with each pass, his length dipping over and over into the tight squeeze of your throat. Taehyung can’t hold back, grunting a steady stream of curses as you suck him off just the way he likes.
When Jungkook outright growls between your legs, you feel it more than hear it, and the vibrations that roll through you are enough to make your toes curl. You pull most of the way off, sliding your lips down Taehyung’s shaft to suckle at the head of his cock as you whimper gently around him.
With his fingertips gripping your ass bruising-hard, Jungkook’s lips slide up your folds until he finds the underside of your clit. Your thighs quiver violently when his tongue darts out for one rough flick over the sensitive bud. There’s no stifling the way you moan when Jungkook repeats the action, again and again, falling into a steady lapping rhythm that makes your whole body shake.
His mouth is so wet and so warm that you completely lose your ability to multitask. Your jaw goes slack around Taehyung’s length, drool spilling onto the sheets beneath you until Taehyung finally withdraws. You don’t have enough space in your brain to try and stroke his ego to keep things fair— you’re entirely lost in the heat of Jungkook’s tongue over your clit. Your hips shove back toward Jungkook’s face to grind against his mouth, your own tongue lolling out as you pant and moan.
An ice cold hand tangling in your hair is enough to get your eyes to refocus, and you glance up at Taehyung just in time for his grip to tighten. The sting of it sparkles like diamonds against your scalp as he forces your head back and watches you fuck yourself on Jungkook’s tongue.
“Feels good, jagiya?” Taehyung purrs, speaking up to be heard over the gasps and slurps of Jungkook as his mouth works your pussy, drinking up every drop.
You can’t think or speak, can’t do anything except nod dumbly and try to keep your eyes from rolling up into your skull. Taehyung cranes your head back another inch and you whimper at the pressure. “Gonna come on puppy’s tongue?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to choke out, and you outright keen when two of Taehyung’s slender fingers reach down to find one of your nipples and twist. The shock of pleasure-pain rips through your whole body, and fuck, it’s enough. Taehyung drops his grip on your hair just as your orgasm hits, and your head bounces against the mattress as you collapse into shuddering moans, your body trembling all over.
Your thighs threaten to give out, but Jungkook’s hands find purchase under your hips to keep you up. You let him hold your weight entirely like it’s nothing at all, his face and tongue still buried in you as your pussy gushes and flutters around him.
Everything eventually softens into the warm glow of comedown, your moans dissolving to gentle whimpers, and then Jungkook slowly lowers you to the mattress. His hands slip down to keep your thighs pulled apart, and he leans in for a few more licks to your cunt, your whole body shivering with oversensitivity at each pass until he finally relents.
“First orgasm’s mine,” Jungkook remarks, like it’s casual.
You glance up to see Taehyung baring his teeth, and you roll onto your side despite how heavy your limbs still feel. “I’ll make her come harder. Let me taste you next, jagi.”
“Tae, wait,” you murmur, pushing yourself up onto your hands. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Jungkook’s smug response comes first. “How about you do it while I fuck her?”
“What?!”
If your heart wasn’t still racing from the orgasm, it would be now at the way Taehyung’s eyes are fixed on Jungkook, like he wants to tear him limb from limb. But Jungkook just keeps talking, as if it doesn’t scare him in the slightest.
“She’s got two holes, right? If I take her in the ass, her pussy’s yours. It’s like she said— if you can’t stand me, maybe it’ll tone down the desire to, you know. Have a snack.”
There’s a visible tremor in Taehyung’s jaw as he attempts to keep himself under control. When he speaks, his voice is strained with the effort of holding back. “You’re not putting anything… anywhere until after I do. I don’t care which fucking hole it is.”
At this, you finally interject. “Taehyung’s right, Jungkook.”
The staring contest ends as they both look down at you, and your eyes jump back and forth between them as you shift onto your knees on the mattress. “We’ve wanted this and talked about it for so long. It’s only fair that he be my… first.”
Jungkook, to your surprise, seems unbothered. “That’s fine. So long as I’m your second.”
“Lay the fuck down, jagi,” Taehyung growls.
You follow the command and Taehyung settles between your thighs with a determined cold-steel gaze, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress. He fists at his throbbing-hard cock as you spread yourself for him, and when he lines himself up with your entrance, you hook your legs over his hips.
In the dim light, there’s an ice-shimmer sheen on his cock, still glossed with your drool. The tip nudges at your center, and you’re drenched for him, you can feel it, slick from Jungkook’s mouth and wet with your own arousal that drips down to coat his waiting length.
A shiver runs through you at the touch of Taehyung’s hand over yours, and he turns your palm up so he can interlace your fingers together.
“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmurs. “I love you.”
His free hand slips down to anchor over your hip, and then you feel him, the glass-cold weight of his cock starting to press into you, long and impossibly hard.
“Oh god, Taehyung,” you gasp, your head kicking back against the bed. “I love you, too. So much.”
You have to shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, on adjusting to the stretch of him, your brow furrowing as you try to breathe through it.
The warm brush of a callused hand over your cheek instantly softens your expression, and your eyes flutter open again to take in Jungkook above you. His warm familiarity makes you smile, as does the sweet expression on his face as he hovers over you.
“Hi,” Jungkook says simply, and you tip your chin up enough for him to understand what you want. He leans forward and his mouth captures yours in an upside-down kiss, one that you can’t help but gasp into when Taehyung fully bottoms out inside you.
Jungkook pulls back as your breath flutters into his mouth. “Is it okay? He’s not hurting you?”
You shake your head, eyes dropping closed as Jungkook trails kisses along the line of your jaw and down your neck. “God, you took him so well.” His voice smolders against your skin.
As if attempting to regain your focus, you feel Taehyung’s hand slip between your legs. His thumb begins to trace gentle circles over your clit, and your walls clench around him in response. “Oh fuck, Tae.”
“Can I move, jagi?” he grunts, and you nod, punctuated with a soft whimper.
“Please, Tae. I need to feel you.”
You barely get the words out before Jungkook’s mouth finds yours again, and your tongue licks hungrily against his as Taehyung slowly starts to move. His cock is so thick, heavy and smooth like marble as he glides over your ridges, and you moan eagerly against Jungkook, gripping the back of his neck like a lifeline as Taehyung’s hips fall into a steady rhythm.
“Oh my god,” you have to break away from Jungkook to gasp. “Oh my god, Tae.”
“Bet that tight little pussy feels so good,” Jungkook murmurs, lips brushing over your ear. When he pulls back, you open your eyes to take him in.
“Jungkook,” you nearly whine his name, overwhelmed at the way Taehyung has started to jostle you on his cock. “Wanna make you feel good too.”
The pads of his fingertips trace delicately over your cheek, and then his thumb slips down to pull at your bottom lip.
“Do you wanna take my cock in this pretty mouth?” The hand tracing over your lip slips lower, until his warm palm is closed over the column of your neck. You can feel the heat of him in every beat of your pulse, the hummingbird thrum of your very human heart. “And let me fuck your throat?”
An overwhelming desire to be filled from both ends makes your breath stutter in your chest, and you grip his forearm with both of your hands, nails digging into his warm skin. “Y-yes, Jungkook,” you answer, working hard to get the words out with how heavy Taehyung is stroking into you. “I need it.”
Jungkook dips forward to brush his lips over yours again, just the lightest touch. “I love you,” he murmurs softly against your mouth.
“I love you,” you repeat, your voice a near whisper.
Another kiss, and he’s smiling when he pulls back. “Be a good girl and open up for me.”
As Jungkook steps away to tug down and step out of his boxers, you feel Taehyung slow his thrusts, and then you gasp a little at how deep his cock sinks into you when he shifts forward to push you both up the bed.
“You feel so good, jagi,” Taehyung groans, and you can’t help but whimper when he moves you easily, grabbing your legs and slinging them roughly over his shoulders.
A yelp escapes your lips when Taehyung hooks his arms over your thighs and pulls them flush to his chest, causing your ass to lift off the mattress entirely. With the way he has you bent, the majority of your weight should be resting in your arms and upper back pressed flat to the bed, possibly painfully. But Taehyung holds you up so effortlessly that you feel like you weigh nothing at all.
The angle also shoves you just far enough back that your head tips over the edge of the bed, and you’re grateful for this small concession from Taehyung, to let Jungkook have his way peacefully, because he knows it’s what you want, too.
As Jungkook steps in to hover over you, Taehyung starts to bounce you on his cock again, and he fills you up so perfectly like this that you can only moan, your head tilting all the way back.
Jungkook’s hands pet down the length of your neck until he finds your breasts, angled up toward him and jiggling with every fierce thrust as Taehyung picks up the pace. You whimper when Jungkook’s palms close around your tits, and you feel the head of his dick toy at your bottom lip, gliding wet with precum that has already started to leak from his slit.
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you give yourself over to the pleasure welling up inside of you and stick your tongue out to guide Jungkook in. His groan is nearly a growl as his cock presses into your mouth to weigh your tongue down heavy, then slips even further back until he’s teasing at the clench of your throat.
The stretch of being used by both of them lights you up all the way through, like a live wire.
For a moment, you find yourself wishing that you weren’t human, that they didn’t have to worry about being gentle to keep you from getting hurt, that Jungkook and Taehyung could truly do whatever they wanted to you.
The thought is exciting and terrifying, and your heart skips a beat in your chest.
Jungkook holds himself still once he’s pushed all the way in, and your throat bulges up at the width of him. You have to remind yourself that at least for now, you are human, and you need to keep breathing.
Taehyung is thrusting balls-deep into your pussy now, and though Jungkook hasn’t started his own strokes yet, the way Taehyung shoves into you is enough to gently rock Jungkook’s length back and forth in the heat-clutch of your throat.
You hear Jungkook moan above you. “Oh fuck yeah, just like that.”
His hips just barely start to move in time, out to match each of Taehyung’s thrusts in, back into your throat every time Taehyung’s cock drags out of your cunt. All you can do is lay there and take it from both of them, a fragile fucktoy, drool slipping down your chin while Jungkook’s hands knead at your breasts and Taehyung’s thumb rolls over your clit.
“Look so good like this,” Taehyung grunts as he presses his lips to your calf hooked over his shoulder. “Wanna make you come on my cock, jagi.”
The plea makes you moan enough to gag around Jungkook, and he relents to let you catch your breath, strings of spit spider-webbing out of your mouth as you pant and laugh a little.
“Fuck me harder, Taehyung,” you breathe. “I can take it.”
It feels like you might bruise from the intensity at which Taehyung begins to stroke into you at your command, but it’s so good, you can’t imagine ever caring about the marks he’ll leave behind. The slap of skin on skin is loud, the way you moan louder still. The pleasure of it rushes up in your bloodstream and hits hard enough to make you dizzy, and the relentless rub of Taehyung’s thumb over your clit pushes you to the edge overwhelmingly quickly.
“Jungkook,” you gasp, your head tipping back towards him. “Please. Want you in my mouth when I come.”
“God,” Jungkook groans, nearly laughing as he slips his thick cock between your lips again. “You are so fucking hot.”
You take Jungkook back into your mouth, and you can already feel your walls starting to flutter around Taehyung as his cock plunges into you over and over. Jungkook’s heavy breathing and Taehyung’s strangled moans mix together in a discordant harmony, underscored by the wet sounds of your throat and your pussy as they fuck you from both ends. Your orgasm mounts, coiling tight in your core, undeniable now.
“That’s it, jagiya,” Taehyung groans. “Come for us.”
You nearly sob around Jungkook’s shaft as you reach your peak, your hips shoving up wildly in Taehyung’s grasp, your entire body overwhelmed by pleasure. Wave after wave of it washes through you, and your pussy pulses for what feels like an eternity, soaking Taehyung’s length in your juices.
Jungkook pulls out again to let you breathe, and you collapse back against the bed. The rush of air into your lungs is so sharp that it stings a little. Your heartbeat slams in your chest as Taehyung withdraws too, and then he leans down to cover your body with his.
His perfect lips find yours and he kisses you deeply, and it takes all the effort you have left to move your mouth against his.
“You’re beautiful, jagiya,” Taehyung murmurs against your skin. “You feel like heaven.”
“I love you, Taehyung,” you manage to whisper back.
“Aw,” Jungkook’s voice drips thick with sarcasm, and you’re ashamed to realize that you’d momentarily forgotten his presence. “What a lovely couple. Guess that orgasm makes the score one-to-one, huh Tae-Tae?”
You shiver a little at the loss of Taehyung’s body over yours as he gets to his feet, inhumanly fast, to move towards Jungkook.
“You know, I have no idea what she sees in you,” Taehyung scoffs.
Jungkook barks a laugh. “That’s fine. ‘Cause pretty soon you’ll be seeing me in her.”
Your heart is in your throat as you watch the two of them circle each other, their eyes burning with hatred. A low warning sound reverberates from between Taehyung’s teeth, but Jungkook just keeps going. “What do you think, bloodsucker? Ready to try eating pussy now that you’re not a virgin anymore?”
“I’d much prefer dog for my next meal, if I’m honest,” Taehyung spits.
“I’d love to see you try.”
“Please.” Your voice comes out shattered, and you kneel up on the bed, grabbing both of them by the bicep in a feeble human attempt to pull them apart. You know you don’t have the real strength to move either of them, but they clearly choose to relent, each taking a few reluctant steps back.
“I want both of you,” you exclaim, close to tears. “Please, please don’t fight.”
There’s a tense moment of silence, and you break it the only way you can think to. “Jungkook,” you shift to better face him. “You really meant what you said? About taking me… in the ass?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen as he fumbles for his words. “I-I mean, we don’t have to. I was just saying shit to make him mad, really.”
“But do you want to?” you press him.
Jungkook blinks. “I want to do anything with you,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and your heart melts open.
“I want it, too.”
“I– really?”
You nod, unashamed. “I’ve tried it before, by myself. And I want that with you.”
“How many fingers?” Jungkook’s eyes go dark with lust when he asks the question.
“Two,” you breathe.
His mouth pulls into a dirty smile. “Might have to work you up to three if you want to take me.”
“Taehyung?” You turn towards him when you ask for his consent to continue, and he answers by leaning in for a kiss that steals all the air from your lungs.
Your kisses deepen and intensify until they’re a clash of tongues and teeth as Taehyung joins you to kneel on the bed. Jungkook disappears off to dig through your bathroom cabinets, and there’s a smug look on his face when he returns with a bottle of lube in hand.
Hands still clutching at Taehyung’s neck, you break the kiss momentarily to look over your shoulder as Jungkook settles behind you, and you spread your knees wide for him. The snap of the bottle cap is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, and it’s chased by the thick squelch of Jungkook depositing lube onto his waiting fingers.
“This shit’s cold,” he complains, and you laugh softly against Taehyung’s mouth.
“Everything feels cold to you.”
You reach back with one hand to better spread yourself for him, and then you whimper as you feel Jungkook’s warm, wet fingers start to trace over the rim of your hole.
It feels like you can barely catch your breath before Taehyung’s mouth is on yours again, kissing you hungrily. His teeth roll over your bottom lip, and you moan into his mouth as Jungkook simultaneously pushes a finger into your ass.
Hot pleasure overwhelms you as Jungkook slips all the way in, and Taehyung’s marble lips release yours to trail an icy path over your jaw.
“Fuck, Koo,” you groan as you adjust to the stretch of him, already so much better than your own touch. “I need another.”
“God,” Jungkook exhales in disbelief. “I’ll try. You’re so fuckin’ tight back here.” Attempting to work you open, he starts to rock his finger slowly in and out of you, and you whine again.
The glass-cold touch of Taehyung’s hand brushing over your hip makes you jump a little, and then he traces further down to roll his fingers over your clit, and your spine arches. The soft circles he begins to trace melt you open, and you can feel every muscle in your body slacken, including the tight ring swallowing up Jungkook’s finger.
It’s just enough that he’s able to squeeze a second in.
“Look at that,” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “The leech is helping.”
You wrap a hand firmly around Taehyung’s cock, jutting up proudly between his legs, if only for a tether to ground you, to keep you from slipping out of your body entirely. Taehyung’s groan shudders over your skin as you slowly start to pump his diamond-hard length.
Jungkook doesn’t let up, scissoring his digits inside of you, and you press your hips back to beg for more until he’s shoved in to the hilt.
Taehyung’s deep voice purrs in your ear. “You smell incredible, jagiya.” There’s a sheen to his ochre eyes when you glance up at him. You’re not scared, not really, but your pulse quickens in your throat nevertheless. You know he can hear it, too.
“Tae,” you breathe, unable to get more words out, not with the way Jungkook’s fingers are relentlessly fucking your ass open.
Taehyung ducks his head and you gasp at the cold shock of his tongue when he full-on licks up the side of your neck. He keeps going, tonguing you in thick, slow drags, starting to groan softly in the back of his throat with each one. You let your head tip back to allow him access to more of your skin as you continue to work his cock in your hand.
You know you’re dancing with the devil, especially when you feel the lightest scrape of his teeth over your neck, but it feels too good to stop.
There’s a slow burn stretch at your rim as Jungkook just barely manages to fit a third finger past it. You will your body to relax so you can take him all the way inside, and you can’t help but moan at the overwhelming fullness. “Oh my fucking god, Koo.”
“Look so pretty on my fingers like this,” Jungkook grunts, pairing his words with a harsh slap to your asscheek that makes you yelp. “Can’t wait to see what you look like on my cock.”
Like a reflex, Taehyung growls against your neck, and you tremble at the feeling, at the sound of his teeth grinding together so close to your throbbing pulse.
“Taehyung,” you choke out as you release your grip on his cock and Jungkook’s fingers withdraw from your ass. You take Taehyung’s face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Do you want to taste me?” His eyes flash dark with lust as he nods.
Jungkook is already shifting to sit at the edge of the bed, and he reaches for the lube again to pour more out, hissing softly as he fists the sticky gloss over his thick shaft. His legs part to give you room, and you back your ass up towards him. You can’t help but squeak a little when his hands close over your hips and he picks you up, your feet hovering an inch above the floor.
“Spread your legs,” Jungkook instructs, and you do. “Pull your knees up and rest your feet on my thighs.” You nervously find your footing over his firm muscles, but you’re a little scared to bear your full weight down.
Jungkook laughs when he realizes why you’re hesitating. “You can’t hurt me, it’s okay.”
At his encouragement, you press your feet more firmly into Jungkook’s thighs, your own legs shaking slightly with tense anticipation. He keeps his hands gripped tight to your hips, heat radiating out from where his palms press against your skin, and his voice is thick with lust when he speaks again.
“That’s it, baby. Line it up for me.”
You reach behind you to wrap your hand around his cock, and you can feel it pulsing hotly as you arch back to let his tip kiss against your rim.
“Go slow,” you breathe, and Jungkook leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder.
“‘Course I will. Don’t wanna hurt you.”
Inch by inch, he gently starts to sink you down to sheath him, pausing periodically to give you time to adjust. Your mouth drops open at the overwhelming feeling of Jungkook’s thickness stretching you open. It’s so intense that you want to squirm, to run away, the soles of your feet flexing restlessly against his thighs.
Your eyes flutter open again to find Taehyung knelt down, watching the two of you intently with a soft furrow in his brow.
“Tae,” you murmur. “Need your mouth.”
That’s all you have to say, and then he’s crawling towards you, settling on his knees between Jungkook’s spread legs. You shiver at the touch of Taehyung’s fingers as he pulls the lips of your pussy apart, and then he leans in to swipe his tongue through your folds just as Jungkook drops you an inch lower on his cock, and you whine loudly at the sweet rush of pleasure.
“Just like that,” you gasp to both of them, your head lolling back against Jungkook’s chest. “Oh, fuck.”
Taehyung’s tongue traces down to your entrance, slurping greedily at the wetness pooled there before dragging back up to your clit. The mirror-cold slide of his wet mouth over you is incredible, enough to make your toes curl when paired with the pressure of Jungkook’s hot cock pushing into your ass.
You feel the tight muscle of your rim spasm, and you sink another inch down, causing Jungkook to groan harshly in response. Just as you realize that you can feel his thighs flush against your asscheeks, his voice is in your ear.
“That’s it, baby. Took all of me in this tight little ass.”
“You feel so good, Koo,” you whimper, turning over your shoulder to find his mouth with yours. “So big,” you groan against his lips, and he smiles back.
As if to distract you, Taehyung’s teeth just barely brush over the hood of your clit, and you nearly bite Jungkook’s bottom lip off. You pull back to look down at Taehyung, and he smiles shyly between your thighs, feigning innocence.
“Watch it, bloodsucker,” Jungkook mutters, his voice strained. “Guess you need more practice.”
“No,” you manage to gasp, struggling to catch your breath between the two of them. “I liked it. Please, Tae.”
Taehyung leans in to repeat the motion, and the scrape of his teeth sends a hot spark of pain through you, enough to make your eyes squeeze shut and every muscle in your body pull taut. You can hear Jungkook groan behind you as your ass clenches around his cock like a vice.
“Shit,” Jungkook’s voice over your shoulder startles you slightly. Your lashes flutter open in time to see him reach his foot out and nudge at Taehyung’s thigh, not particularly gentle. “Keep fucking doing that.”
Taehyung obliges, alternating gentle passes of his tongue with increasingly rough drags of his teeth across your sensitive bud. The steady swings between pleasure and pain make your head spin, until Taehyung’s husky voice drags you back from the brink of all-encompassing pleasure.
“You’re dripping, jagiya.”
You whimper, unable to form words to respond, and then you can only moan as you feel one of Taehyung’s delicate fingers work itself into the heat of your pussy with a wet squelch.
“Pup’s so big and you’re so little,” Taehyung continues. “There’s no room left. Can barely get a finger in here.”
“I want to take you too, Tae,” you plead. “I want both of you.” It’s not just want at this point– you’re more sure than ever that you have to have this, both of them, together. “Please.”
Taehyung’s face darkens with concern. “We’ll break you.”
“Then break me,” you practically growl. “I need it.”
You’re expecting Taehyung to argue back, forever concerned for your safety, but to your surprise, he surges up to kiss you instead. A soft whimper spills from your mouth into his, and you tangle your fingers in his long dark hair and taste him until he pulls away.
As if to beckon him in, you wordlessly tilt your hips toward Taehyung as best you can with Jungkook’s thick cock still fully sheathed in your ass. Taehyung’s hands sink into the mattress on either side of Jungkook’s hips as he positions himself in front of you.
“Breathe, jagi,” Taehyung reminds you.
Your lungs burn as you inhale deep, and you try desperately to relax as you feel the tip of his glass-hard length teasing at your drenched entrance. Taehyung slowly starts to push in, and your hands search for purchase along the lean, flexing muscles in his arms, your nails attempting to scratch over skin that won’t give.
There’s a steady throb between your legs as Taehyung gently nestles himself all the way into your cunt, his cock pressed tight to Jungkook’s with only the thin barrier of your body between them. This feeling of fullness is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced, and the sensation of taking both of them at once is overwhelming. It’s spine-chilling cold and blood-boiling heat all in one, their cocks crammed so deep inside you that you swear you can feel them in your throat.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, and he can’t quite hide the waver of pleasure that paints his voice. “Your dick’s fucking cold.”
“You’re actually just a fucking furnace,” Taehyung spits back, but it’s chased with a soft groan.
Your mind lags, dazed with pleasure, but it slowly occurs to you that the temperature combination must feel equally good for them. Even if their egos won’t let them admit it.
“Move.” No one is more shocked than you at the commanding tone of your voice when you speak. “Both of you. Stop talking and fuck me.”
Jungkook acts first, his hands tightening on your hips to lift you, and the tight clutch of your ass dragging up the length of his cock makes you both gasp. Taehyung watches closely as Jungkook falls into a steady rhythm, and then he starts to roll his hips to match it, thrusting into your pussy each time Jungkook pulls your ass back down over his cock.
None of you can keep your composure or bite back your moans now, the pressure of their cocks simultaneously fucking into you feels too good. You can hear Jungkook panting in your ear, can see a muscle flexing in Taehyung’s jaw as he groans with every upstroke, and you begin to shove your hips up in time with their motions, your feet pressing firmly against Jungkook’s thighs for leverage.
“That’s it, baby,” Jungkook grunts. “Fucking ride us.”
Taehyung shifts slightly, putting all his weight into one hand to lift the other off the mattress and toy with your clit. You keen as he rolls it between his thumb and index finger, and you feel the chill of his mouth close over the slope of your neck.
“Oh fuck, Tae,” you whine as he starts to suck hard against your skin, enough that you’re sure he’ll leave a mark. You can feel every muscle in your body tightening, a dam of arousal threatening to burst deep inside of you, and something primal awakens there.
In this moment, you know exactly what you need.
“Taehyung,” you groan softly, and you already know he wants it too. “Do it, Tae. Please. Bite me.”
“Do not fucking turn her,” Jungkook growls, slamming your ass down so hard on his thighs that you nearly choke on a gasp. Taehyung’s mouth sucks even harder, right over your pulse point.
“No, no,” you protest. “Just a little drink, Tae. Please. It felt so good last time, I know. We both want it.” You’re outright begging, insatiable– your eyes threaten tears with how badly you really do want this, need this.
Like it takes every ounce of strength he has, Taehyung manages to pull himself off your neck, his hips still pistoning into you. “Jagi, I–I’ll frenzy. I’ll hurt you.”
You shake your head. “Jungkook is here, you can stop yourself. I know you can. Please, Tae, if you love me.”
As if those words were all he needed to hear, you see Taehyung rear back, and then you scream as his teeth pierce the skin of your neck. “It’s good Taehyung, it’s good,” you choke out, trying to keep it together. Your breath comes ragged now, in harsh, broken sobs.
Taehyung is loud when he drinks from you, slurping and gasping and groaning unabashedly, and you shiver violently at the icy wash of his tongue circling over your wounds.
The world begins to blur at the edges, bleeding out, like time itself is slowing. You feel your climax winding tighter inside of you even as your body starts to go weak, held up like a ragdoll in Jungkook’s grip as they both continue to fuck you full.
Jungkook growls like a clap of thunder, and it’s enough to bring Taehyung back to his senses. His head snaps up angrily, your blood momentarily forgotten. You just barely manage to focus your gaze on Taehyung’s face to see him bare his teeth in a vicious snarl at Jungkook, more monster than man.
“What is it, pup? Want a taste?”
Your mind moves slowly, and just as you think to yourself that Jungkook will scoff at the very idea, maybe even try to fight Taehyung for suggesting it, a new sensation flutters against your neck. It’s unmistakable, the touch of Jungkook’s tongue over the same spot, hot enough to burn the delicate skin that was just made so cold by Taehyung’s mouth.
“Oh fuck,” you moan loudly.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Taehyung purrs, chased with a dark laugh, and your mind is too dizzy to know which of you he’s asking.
“She’s sweet,” Jungkook confirms, and your eyes roll back at the warmth of his tongue when it returns to your neck. Taehyung laughs even louder.
“He’s not gonna leave any for me. Can I give you one more set, jagi?”
“Please,” you gasp. “I’m so fucking close, Tae.”
Your head feels heavy on your neck now, and it takes all the strength you have to look at Taehyung when you feel the brush of his marble palm against your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs, and then there’s an animal sound as his teeth tear a fresh gash into the other side of your neck.
Two cocks filling you, two tongues drinking you, your mind at the precipice of blacking out, the sweet pleasure-pain of ice and fire twisting all the way through your body: it’s all too much. Taehyung’s second bite sends you violently over the edge, and your vision goes black as you come with a strangled scream. White noise roars in your ears like TV static, and you feel the unmistakable throb of two loads filling you up simultaneously as your cunt pulses in an endless, overwhelming orgasm.
A voice somewhere in the back of your mind asks if these might be your final moments alive, if this shaky inhale you can barely take is the last breath you’ll ever breathe, and then the world goes dark as you lose consciousness entirely.
~*~
You wake up with a deep gasp, like coming up for air.
You’ve been laid flat on your back on the bed, and you sit up so fast your head spins, making it momentarily impossible to focus on anything. You squeeze your eyes shut again, trying to steady yourself.
“Oh thank god,” Taehyung’s worried voice comes from your right side, and you feel both of his hands close over yours. “I was just about to call Seokjin. Do you still want me to?”
The thought of having to explain any of this to Taehyung’s adoptive father makes your face burn with embarrassment.
“No, no, Tae,” you manage to croak. “I’m fine, seriously. Don’t call him.”
“You’re lucky,” you hear Jungkook scoff from your left. “I had about five more seconds left of you playing dead before I was going to tear vampy here to shreds. Guess there’s always next time.”
You wrench your eyes open in disbelief to find Taehyung and Jungkook staring at you, brows creased with worry.
“N-next time?”
“Do you still want that, jagiya?” Taehyung asks softly, and you have to swallow down the urge to cry. “You still want both of us?”
“More than anything,” you choke out, eyes darting between the two of them, trying to take them both in at once. “I-I’m sorry I pushed myself too hard, but please, I still need–”
“It’s okay,” Taehyung interrupts you. “We clearly all got caught up in the moment. I’m just glad you’re okay. And now we know better, for… next time.”
You still can’t believe what you’re hearing, and you turn to look at Jungkook, trying to make sense of it.
Jungkook just shrugs. “Neither of us have ever felt anything close to what we felt tonight. I mean, it was insane. And we both love you, that much is obvious. So as long as you’re still breathing, I guess we’re gonna have to learn to play nice.”
Taehyung laughs darkly as your jaw drops open. “It’s true, jagiya. I never would’ve believed it before tonight. But, despite all odds, it would seem we’ve found a way to… compromise.”
lol i'm so sorry this was the dumbest thing i've ever written bye
#jungkook smut#taehyung smut#jungkook x reader#taehyung x reader#taekook x reader#bts x reader#bts fanfiction#jungkook x y/n#taehyung x y/n#bts twilight AU#bts smut#bts crack#i am insane bye
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Adult Education Part 4 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jake gets some more insider information about Jessica, and he decides to let her know exactly what he intends to do next. The heated moments in her office are about to boil over, until Jessica is hit with the feeling that Jake is starting to run cold.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
"Did you get her number yet?" Bradley asked in the locker room on Monday morning while Jake was changing into his flight suit.
Very begrudgingly, he said, "No, I did not." It had been almost a full day since he emailed Jessica, and all he got in return was radio silence.
"Damn... I've been messing around with my wife all over campus. I got a blowjob in a lecture hall last week, and you still don't have a phone number?"
Jake just rolled his eyes and said, "I'm hoping I'll see her again tomorrow."
"Sugar was right," Bradley said, shaking his head as he zipped up his own flight suit. "You're losing your touch."
Jake slammed his locker closed. "It's not like she's some random tag chaser from the Hard Deck, okay?" he growled. "She's smart, and she's gorgeous. And I doubt she's handing her phone number out to anyone who looks at her. I'm not in a rush for once."
Bradley smirked and held his fist out. Jake very slowly hit it with his own fist. "What is this?" he asked cautiously after the fist bump. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"Sugar said she'd eat lunch with Dr. Reed today and try to see what's up, but only if I could determine if you really liked her and weren't just trying to fuck her."
Jake stopped the smart response on his lips before the words came out. He still wasn't sure what kind of rumors were circulating about Jessica, and he definitely didn't want to add to anything by coming on too strong or being an ass. Part of him was convinced he needed Bradshaw's wife on his side to make it to the next step. So he said, "I've been spending the vast majority of my time thinking about cooking dinner for her while she reads to me from a scientific journal. Not sure if that's the kind of information your wife is looking for."
Bradley looked shocked and his face paled. "Huh. If she has a titty tattoo, you're screwed, man. Completely fucked." But he was reaching for his phone now. "I'll text my wife and let her know."
"Thanks," Jake grunted, checking his email app one last time before closing his locker and heading out toward the hangar. As he looked over his jet and filled in the safety protocol sheets, he kept thinking about her. She would be fascinated by this, seeing all of her mathematical knowledge playing out. He could take her up in the air with him, and she would be delighted the entire time.
Jake would have already taken Jessica out to dinner last night and dropped her off at home with a kiss. But this wasn't playing out the way he imagined it would. If Bradshaw's wife didn't help clue him in on what was going on here, then tomorrow would be his last attempt. He was on the verge of getting his hopes up. He couldn't even look at the patch on his flight suit the same way anymore. Not after her elegant fingers had skimmed along the golden threads.
But he pushed everything from his mind the best he could, and he got up in the air for the training exercises with Phoenix and Bob. But when he got back to his locker around five o'clock, he saw an email from Jessica that had been sent eight hours ago. Jake nearly dropped his phone as he tried to open the app.
Dear Lieutenant Seresin,
I'm so pleased to hear that you enjoy the journals as much as I do. If you keep reading them from front cover to back cover, I'm sure you'll be rewarded with the knowledge that you're craving. I might even have to pull some of my own published articles for you to read... if you think you can handle that sort of thing.
My equations are not for the faint of heart. Bring your pencil on Tuesday but leave your skateboard. I wouldn't want to have to lecture you about skating in the academic buildings. We could be there all night.
Perpetually looking forward to my office hours now,
Dr. Jessica Reed, Ph.D
P.S.- If you liked that photo and are well behaved, maybe you can have more. Ones that aren't listed on the university website.
Jake had to juggle his phone again as he read the post script. "Holy shit," he drawled, his eyes skimming along the words a second and third time. He was in. He had to be? This was sent before any sort of lunch could have happened between his favorite physics professor and his favorite math professor. "Shit, shit, shit. Bradshaw!" Jake ran back past the lockers and toward the showers. "Bradshaw!"
"What?" Bradley called back from one of the stalls where steam was rising from the top, voice echoing loudly.
"What did your wife say?" Jake asked impatiently.
"Jesus, Hangman. I don't know. I haven't checked my phone yet."
Jake sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "Well, how much longer are you going to be?"
"For fuck's sake! I don't know! I'm literally taking a shower. Is nothing sacred?"
Jake muttered, "I really need your wife's phone number," as he wandered back to sit on the bench in front of his locker and read the email again.
A few minutes later, a glaring Bradley strolled back over in his towel, reached into his locker and tapped his passcode into his phone. "Here, knock yourself out," he said, handing it to Jake. But then he snatched it back quickly with a look of panic. "Actually, let me just scroll and make sure she didn't send a dirty picture," he mumbled, swiping along his phone screen. "Nah, you're good."
Jake quickly found the one long message at the bottom of the thread and started to read it.
Thanks for packing my lunch today. I feel ridiculously spoiled when everyone else has to eat a sad looking microwave meal or grab something from that horrifying food truck next to Chippy's. You're the absolute best.
Jake glanced to where Bradshaw was getting dressed and fixing his hair. You might not immediately know it by interacting with him, but the man clearly loved his wife.
I shared some of the veggies and hummus with Jessica. I still don't know what went down with her and Brian Conley, but it's creepy the way he looks at her. But anyway, lunch was nice. I think I made a new friend? Because she's not annoying or old or a man, and she doesn't try to talk over everyone else. Oh, and she's definitely into Jake. She started to fidget and adjust her glasses when I told her that I saw him at the Hard Deck over the weekend and he asked about her. She's cute as a button. Tell Jake to just Keep Truckin' (that's a Grateful Dead reference for you, Beer Boy. Reward me later.)
"Truly, the two of you are disgusting," Jake said as he reached for his own phone. "I'm saving your wife's phone number." Once he had it saved in his contacts, he gave Bradley his phone back. "Thanks."
"Sure," Bradley grunted. "She get you what you were hoping for?"
Jake just smirked. "Dr. Tits never lets me down."
----------------------------
Jessica tried not to let her hesitancy show when she was invited to have lunch with the only female with tenure in the math department. This wasn't even the first time recently that she thought she might be able to make a friend at work, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself. One small step at a time with these things. She still wasn't exactly sure who to trust around here.
But when the other woman knocked on her door promptly at noon, Jessica opened her door and smiled. "Do you want to eat in here?" she asked, noting the lunchbox the other woman was holding which had a funky tie dye print.
"Sure, AP," she replied with a smile. Jessica's heart swelled with happiness; they actually had nicknames for each other. Advanced Physics and Advanced Calculus.
"Have a seat, AC," she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk. Jessica knew her husband worked with Jake, and she really wanted to ask about him. But out of extreme caution, she kept her mouth shut as far as he was concerned. The last thing Jessica wanted was to make this kind female who was close to her own age and who seemed really cool thinking she was only interested in talking about the aviator she was crushing on. Instead she said, "So, tell me more about the mythical math department where they give tenure to women."
Then as she opened up the meal that her husband packed, she regaled Jessica with tales of fair treatment and an office with a view. And then she offered to share her lunch as Jessica ate a hot pocket. And while Jessica was munching on a carrot stick, the other woman said, "I was at this naval hangout over the weekend with my husband, and Jake was there. He asked me about you."
Jessica sat up straighter in her seat. There was still no response to her email from this morning, but she doubted Jake was allowed to just play around on his phone while operating a seventy million dollar aircraft. She slid her glasses a little further up her nose and said, "In an effort not to sound completely boy crazy... what did he want to know?"
She snorted. "Everything."
And that's when Jessica started to panic. Everyone in this part of San Diego State University had surely heard some rumors about her and Brian. She was mortified that this woman might have told Jake the truth. If she even knew the truth. But one of the lies or rumors would be just as bad. She wanted to hide under her desk now, and all she could manage to say was, "Oh."
But she just kept going. "Between you and me, Jake's going a little crazy that you apparently won't let him have your phone number? Which I think is absolutely what that man needs. So keep up the good work. He's too handsome, and he knows it. I don't think he's ever encountered someone like you before."
Jessica looked at her with wide eyes. "Be honest with me. How soon is he going to lose interest in a nerd who collects journals and does math problems for fun?"
But she just shook her head. "Lose interest? Probably never. Get frustrated and think you're not interested? Hmmm. I'm not sure."
But Jessica could feel her neck growing warm. She'd been pretty forward in her email to him earlier, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do. "Nobody could lose interest in Jake," she murmured, helping herself to some more carrot sticks.
"Listen," the other woman said. "This is just from Advanced Calculus to Advanced Physics, okay?"
"Okay," Jessica replied with a laugh.
"Jake could probably get any woman he wanted, but he hasn't had much exposure to anyone except hardass military officers and tag chasers. I'd say you fall somewhere in between. Just be careful, okay?"
Jessica nodded in agreement, unsure exactly what she was agreeing to. But she found she liked the idea of falling somewhere in between for Jake. In her mind, it made her more unique than she actually felt.
On Tuesday morning, she dressed in a matching set of lingerie just like she always did. But she chose a deep wine red, because it made her feel bold. And if Jake followed through with what he said, then he would be stopping by her office later today. Bold might be a necessity.
She was running her finger along the strap of her bra before tucking it into her lightweight sweater as her computer booted up. She had her coffee on her desk, but she didn't need it. She was so excited and filled with adrenaline, she felt like she might bounce around her small office. Then she gasped; there was a new email from jake.seresin waiting for her.
Dear Dr. Reed,
I'm hoping you'll have some time for me later today. I'm also thinking that one of these visits, my luck will run out. Will somebody else skateboard off with your heart? Will I have to compete with a whole line of aviators with detailed physics notes and sharpened pencils?
I won't be able to stand the heartache, so I wanted to let you know now that I'm going to ask you out tonight. I'm going to try to persuade you to join me at Chippy's for more beer and peanuts on Wednesday. I want you to have some time to think about your answer. Because if that's not something you want to do, then I'm going to need you to let me down very gently, Jessica.
See you when I report to your office hours,
Jake
P.S.- If there actually is a whole line of aviators, I wouldn't be surprised in the least.
Oh, he was so smooth. And funny. And he was giving her the whole day to decide what she wanted to do. Jessica squeaked and smiled behind her coffee cup. He must have sensed her hesitance, but he didn't seem annoyed. Rather he seemed like going to Chippy's with her again would make him really happy. Chippy's of all places. Her of all women.
With a few minutes until her schedule really started for the day, she stood and knelt in her dress pants in front of her bookshelf. There was a specific journal with a specific article that would be just perfect for what she had planned. Once she located it, she tucked it away in her top drawer, and then she went back for a few more journals that she could send home with Jake.
And as far as Chippy's went, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Last time they were there, she'd had the best time talking to him, and they hadn't even gotten into many personal topics. Of course she did run away terrified that he was trying to two time his wife or girlfriend. But this time around would be different.
She snatched up her folders and lecture notes and locked her door behind her, knowing she would have to contend with Luca and all of her other students before she would get to see Jake at all. So she buckled down and got to work. Three lectures, one lab class and one recitation later, she wandered back up to her office, absolutely starving and exhausted.
The sad salad she pulled out of her mini fridge and the thermos of lemonade would just have to do. It was already after three o'clock, and she had exams to grade. The fact that she had the worst schedule out of everyone in the physics department was not lost on her as she forced her salad down and dreamed about something homemade. It was ridiculous how jealous she was of the packed lunches that her calculus counterpart always had.
Two huge stacks of exams later, Jessica made note that she had five students who were failing their classes. Gently, she removed her glasses and let her forehead come to rest on her desk. Her office hours were about to begin, and as excited as she had been to see Jake earlier this morning, she kind of wished more of her students would visit her. It was early in the term, and they had time to turn their grades around, but still.
At 5:30 she propped her door open and waited. As long as Dr. Leeland didn't stop by today, she'd call it a win. She gave extra practice problems to Nia, and she helped Benji correct his mistakes on his lab calculations, and then she waited. After she checked the time on her computer, she turned off the monitor. It was 6:45. She'd been on campus since 8:00. She was hungry again. And she was starting to feel like an idiot.
"Reedy."
Her eyes met his pretty green ones instantly. Perched in her open doorway with his notebook in hand, he looked like everything she wanted. Jeans and a black tee replaced his uniform today, and he was just stupidly handsome.
"Jake."
He nodded toward the hallway, and she saw a sharpened pencil tucked behind his ear. "Would you like me to close the door?"
"Please," she replied softly as she stood behind her desk. When the door clicked into place, she imagined herself locking it and doing the dirtiest things in her office with Jake Seresin. These same thoughts circulated her brain as she tried to fall asleep every night now. She'd have him pushed up against the wall with her lips on his neck. Or she'd push him down onto her chair and straddle one thick thigh.
She was jarred back to reality as he made his way over to her desk with a soft smile. "I tried my hand at some of these equations," he drawled. "Can't quite figure them out. Don't seem to have the right numbers."
Then he reached up, and Jessica watched him take that pencil into his hand. "Would you like me to show you how it's done?" she asked with a smirk.
"Oh, you know I would." Hungry eyes roamed over her face as he handed the pencil over to her. His fingers felt rough when they brushed hers, and she had to fight to keep her mind focused on the math in his notebook.
"Have a seat," she told him, and she knew the fun was just about to begin.
-------------------------
Jake eased himself down into the chair opposite Jessica's desk, and he looked up at her where she stood. She had his pencil in her hand, and as she reached into her drawer to retrieve her calculator, he watched her pretty, red sweater slide a few inches down her shoulder revealing her bra strap. It was a darker shade of red. It looked beautiful against her skin.
"You're using the wrong formulas," she said with a smirk. "You can't expect the physics problems to respond to the wrong math."
"Show me how it's done, Jessica."
She bit her lip, and when she bent at the waist, Jake couldn't fathom how her students were able to pay attention in her classes. Her body was absolutely sinful looking. And when the tip of his pencil pressed against the notebook page, Jake's eyes drifted to the front of her sweater. That bra was even prettier than he imagined. His cock pulsed in his snug jeans. Lace. Just lace and her gorgeous cleavage.
He grunted and her eyes met his. Was she doing this on purpose? Did she know how good she looked to him right now? Did she have any fucking clue how crazy she was making him? No. He could tell she had no idea how much she was messing him up.
Then she wrote out the set of formulas that he would need to use before spinning the notebook around so it was facing him. "Give it a try," she said, setting her calculator and his pencil next to it.
As Jake leaned closer to her desk to take a look, Jessica walked around to the other side. She perched herself next to where he was working, his fingers just inches away from her thigh as he desperately tried to remember the difference between thrust and propulsion.
"Are you distracting me on purpose?" he asked without looking away from the notebook.
"Do you find me distracting?" she asked softly, and Jake chuckled.
"You know I do," he said before dropping the pencil and standing. He towered over her as he gingerly placed his hands on the desk, bracketing her in. "You know I do, Jessica."
His face was close to hers, but she didn't shy away at all. The devilish grin that found its way to her lips was begging to be kissed away until she was moaning his name. But he didn't move an inch.
"I thought you had something you wanted to ask me tonight," she whispered as one high heeled foot met his calf, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.
He jerked his chin up an inch. "Baby, if you won't go to Chippy's with me tomorrow, it's gonna break my heart."
As soon as her teeth pressed into her plush lip, Jake could see that grin return to her face. When he moved a fraction of an inch closer, she gasped and said, "I couldn't possibly go out with a guy who can't get his thrust equation down correctly."
Jake smirked and pushed off from the desk, leaving her and returning to his vacant seat. Then he read through the formulas she had written for him. And then he worked out his constants and entered his variables. When he punched everything into her calculator, he came up with an answer. And then he double checked it. Because the last thing he wanted Jessica to be concerned about was him knowing all about the power of thrust.
When he handed her the notebook, he eased himself further back into the seat. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and then started to skim the page to check his math. But that pretty smile was still present, and soon she closed the notebook and then set it down next to her thigh.
She met his gaze and held it. "I would love to go back to Chippy's with you."
That meant his math was correct. It probably also meant that she made her mind up earlier today but just wanted to toy with him. And he could become fucking addicted to that.
"Just tell me what time, and I'll meet you there," he promised, heart thudding in anticipation of another evening spent with her.
"Seven?" she asked softly.
"It's a date."
---------------------------------
Jessica stopped home between her last class and the beginning of her date at Chippy's. Every time she thought about it, she started laughing. A college dive bar was hardly the most romantic place in San Diego to grab a drink, but somehow it was exactly perfect. She ate dinner quickly and then changed out of her pantsuit.
The mirror in her walk in closet caught her attention, and she spun to inspect her body in the royal blue bra and thong. Not bad. But she wasn't sure how to dress. And she wasn't planning on letting Jake see this pretty set. Yet. They hadn't even kissed. He still didn't have her phone number. But that made her giggle as she tried on a few different pairs of jeans before settling on ones that were high waisted and hugged her body.
She chose a cute blouse and then slid on a pair of high heels before heading back to campus. As she parked near the bar, she checked her makeup one last time in the mirror on the back of the sun visor. She looked good. Better than good. Then she grabbed the journals and her purse from the front seat and headed inside.
The peanut shells that littered the floor stuck to the bottoms of her shoes, and the crowd of students was a little loud. But she liked it here anyway. When Chippy himself looked up from the bar, he smiled at her.
"Reedy," he said with a wave. "A beer?"
But she shook her head. "Not yet. I'm meeting someone. He should be here soon."
His brow scrunched up. "That same one? In the uniform?" When she nodded, he said, "Careful with those ones, Reedy."
And his words hung in the air as she found an empty high top with two stools. For the past year she'd kept to herself. Kept her nose clean. Stayed away from not only the bad guys, but really guys altogether. Was she making a mistake here?
She checked the time on her phone. 7:04. Then she skimmed the journal she brought with her which contained her very own recent publication. Then she checked her phone again. 7:17. Chippy dropped off a bowl of peanuts, and she cracked one open as her brain started to tell her that she was being stood up. Because suddenly it was after 7:30 and there was no sign of Jake.
-----------------------
Jake, what the hell, man? You're only going to get one chance here. Loving the Beer Boy and Sugar moments. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 5
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#jake seresin x oc#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x oc#hangman fic#jake hangman fic#jake hangman seresin#hangman imagine#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin#top gun hangman#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin imagine#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#adult education
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elevator troubles - spencer reid
warnings; slight dumification, maybe some dom-sub tension, clothed grinding, slight fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex 😏
"you have got to be kidding me.." you grumbled, balling your fists and banging on the elevators walls.
"stop that- seriously!" reid yelped, grabbing your hands away from the wall.
"or what? its not like this could get any worse!" you grumbled.
"its your fault we're in here!" he half-yelled back.
"how is this my fault?" you said, crossing your arms defensively.
"you jammed all the buttons!"
"you got into the elevator in the first place, now i'm stuck in here with you."
"really y/n? petty excuse."
you scoff, turning away from him and heading to the opposite corner. you lean against the wall, while reid slumps down against it, sitting down.
"you should sit down." he says matter of factly.
"i'm fine." you reply curtly, opposed to doing anything he suggests.
"seriously-" he begins, as a particularly loud creak comes from the elevator.
suddenly, the elevator plummets down, and you find yourself falling across the small space right into spencer.
"shit!" you yelp out as you land on top of him. your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, straddling him as the elevator comes to a halt.
you quickly back off him, apologising quietly and you scurry back to the corner. a light pink blush graces your cheeks, curtesy of being so close to spencer.
"are you alright?"
"yeah- sorry for falling on you."
he nods in response. leaning his back against the wall. your eyes find their way to his neck, gawking at his collarbones, your eyes trail down his shoulders to his hands, for the first time noticing how nice they were. large, veiny, with long long fingers-
you cut your thoughts off, grimacing at were that was about to head. clearly the abnormal heat of this elevator was making your delusional.
"have you tried hotch?" spencer asked, and you look up to find him staring at you. before you can help it, another blush spreads across your cheeks and you quickly avert your gaze.
"uh- yeah, no reception."
he nods, eyebrows knitted in thought.
you stay like that for a while eventually closing your eyes, until you hear the rustling of material. you peak one eye open, only to find spencer taking off his vest, part of his shirt underneath coming up with it, you take in the slightly toned stomach and they v shape in ends with. your eyes widen as you notice the smallest amount of a happy trail peaking from above his pants.
jesus christ, you really were going delusional.
"you good?" spencer asked, taking in your flushed cheeks.
“yeah, just uh hot." you decide, perfect excuse.
"take your top off then."
your mouth drops open at his response, and the casualness of his tone. his sounds as if he didn't just ask his workplace nemesis to take their clothes off. spencer shrugs at your shocked expression, offering no further explanation.
should you? i mean who were you kidding. it's not like spencer was going to care, he'd be more repulsed if anything. thinking back to the morning, you remembered you'd put on a baby pink bra today, lacey and cute. theres that at least.
your hands come up undo the buttons on your blouse, before discarding it. you look up at spencer, whos eyes have zeroed in on your chest, taking in your bare stomach and bra. he gulps, appearing nervous.
"what spence, never seen a girl in a bra before?" you asked, teasing him slightly.
"more then you'd expect." he replies curtly, and your eyes widen at his response.
his fingers come down to his on button-up undoing it quickly, and shaking it off. now it was your turn to stare, you'd always known he was in fairly good shape, but god he looked good shirtless.
"what y/n, never seen a guy shirtless before?" he asked cockily.
you couldn't even respond, to flustered by this turn of events to find something to say in return. spencer grins at your lack of response.
"take of your jeans." he says his tone dominant. he still leans casually against the wall.
your mind whirls with possibility, but you find yourself pulling at the zipper, obeying his order. you sit up a bit shrugging your jeans off.
"good girl." he whispers and you practically melt at his words.
"come over here." he says motioning to his outstretched legs.
your crawl across the floor towards him, only in your lingerie and heels, what a sight that must be. clearly spencer enjoys the view, as his eyes rake over your body as you climb into his lap, straddling him once again.
"look at these." he says, pulling at the strap of your panties. you whine at the heat of his touch, leaning into him.
"oh sweetheart," he whispers, hand reaching up to caress your cheek.
"want a kiss?" he asks, and you nod giddily.
his mouth meets yours, lips gliding across eachother. the faint taste of coffee can still be found, from the one he had a few hours ago. you wonder what you taste like. seemingly knowing your thoughts, spencer leans back, a quiet 'fuck' falling from his now plush lips.
"you taste like cherries, baby." he whispers, leaning back in to reconnect your lips.
his tongue finds yours and you moan against him, hands coming up from the ground to his shoulders. he leans back, resting his hand on your hip, and guiding it slowly against his hips. your mouth falls open softly in a silent 'o' at the friction. you can feel him against your panties, hard and you smile to yourself, knowing you did that.
"shit.." spencer mumbles, throwing his head back as you grind harder against him.
"spence- i need- need more."
he leans back up to grin at you, and the needy look on your face.
"so desperate, want me to touch you sweetheart?" he asks and you nod quickly.
the hand resting on your hips trails along the bone, until its at the top of your panties, right above the little pink bow. his hand slips under the band, his finger finding your clit with ease.
“god- ” you gasp out, as he begins to toy with your clit.
you grind onto his bulge, and he lets out a soft groan after a particular hard movement. his hand continues its movements on your clit as continue to grind against him. arching your back into him you moan, feeling your orgasm approaching.
“you close baby?” he asks and you nod dumbly, too fucked out to speak.
his spare hand finds its way to your hip, fastening your movements against him.
“spencer - “ you gasp out, hips stuttering as you approach your high.
he leans forward, pressing kisses along your neck.
“that’s it baby, c’mon. cum for me.”
you cum with a loud moan of his name, few swear words spilling out after.
“look at you, making a mess on my lap.”
you whine as he removes his hand from your clit and pulls you away from his bulge.
“want more spence, please-“
“want me to fuck you?” he asks, hands already working on his dress pants without an answer. he knows you’ll say yes.
“please, god yes.” you say, moving off his lap he can get his pants off.
you palm his boxer-clad dick, fully hard from your previous activities. a low groan leaves his mouth, and you grin at him happily.
you pull his boxers down greedily, licking your lips at the sight of his hard cock. the tip already leaks pre-cum, and you moan softly at the sight of him.
without warning, you lean down to wrap your lips around his tip, earning a loud groan from reid.
“fuck sweetheart- don’t need to-“ he stutters out, but your committed.
you take him down your throat, sucking your cheeks in and bobbing up at down. spencer runs a hand through his hair, chest heaving at the sight of your sucking him off.
you pull of him, before re- focusing your attention on his tip, sucking harshly.
“shit-“ he groans, tapping your shoulder to tell you to stop.
you look up at him frowning.
“don’t you wanna finish?”
“inside of you, wanna finish inside of you sweetheart.” he says breathily, pulling you back into his lap until your entrance is positioned right above his cock.
“can i?” he asks, eyes finding yours.
“yes.”
you sink down onto him, a low loan escaping both of you.
“please move-“ you say slowly grinding your hips against his.
he gets the memo, thrusting up into you gently at first, before developing a steady rhythm. a stream of moans leave both of your mouths as he fucks IO into you.
“not gonna last long- not after you sucking me off.” he says, groaning after.
“same-“ you stutter out. “already so close.”
“such a needy thing, only a few minutes on my cock and your already close.”
all you can do is whimper as you feel your high approaching. your movements become sloppy, as you rely on him to keep going.
you drag your hand down your stomach, beginning to messily toy with your clit.
“shit- that’s hot.” spencer moans out.
“so close-“ you whisper, eyes rolling back into your head.
your cunt squeezes around him, as you approach your orgasm.
“spencer- spencer- spencer!” you chant out as you finish, a loud moan leaving your lips.
“right behind you sweetheart.” spencer says, finishing with a thrust. he groans as he lets go, cum filling up your cunt. you slump against his body, panting loudly.
his hand traces along to your back, a notion filled with affection.
“you okay?” he asks softly, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your lips.
you nod, smiling into the kiss.
you break apart as a loud ding sounds through the elevator, signalling the someone was here to help. you scramble around the small space, pulling back on your clothes. as you button up the last one on your blouse, spencer comes over, placing a kiss to your forehead.
“talk after?” he asks and you nod, smiling at him sheepishly just as the door opens to reveal hotch and a workman. aaron raises an eyebrow, at your disbelief appearance, and spencer just shrugs in response, talking your hand and exiting the elevator.
#female reader#fluff#oneshot#smut#masterlist#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid
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hello!! big fan here! i think you’re super talented and cool 🫶🏼 can i perhaps request a friends to lovers thing for vernon? do you think he’d be the first one to break and confess or would it be you? if it’s the latter, how does he react? any thoughts on this would be fine really, even if you don’t want to make it into a full fledged story. just love talking about and thinking about vernon.
darling anon i think you broke my brain because i've never written so much in a single day (also thank you so much!!! <3). i love vernon and i've kind of been in a vernon spiral myself recently. i hope you like this :)
chroma — chwe hansol | 2,520 words | fluff
chroma (noun) — the purity of a colour, or its freedom from white or grey. reader and vernon are best friends who SCREAM become lovers. briefly ft dokyeom.
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
at first glance, you and vernon are opposites.
not exactly grumpy and sunshine opposites, but if you're both the same colour, you're a shade or two brighter than him. which means that you're similar with different energy levels, and honestly? you love your dynamic.
your friends notice that outside of the group, you're the one he's the closest to — so it only makes sense that he's also the one you're the closest to.
he's always near you whenever you're hanging out with your friends — whether you're sitting right next to each other or across the room, he meets your eyes from time to time, if only to check in on you, or to allude to an inside joke when someone speaks.
(you have way too many inside jokes; an unhealthy amount, even.)
he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely. or you crash at each other's places for the night if you're too tired.
you always look forward to whenever he gets random bursts of energy and proceeds to tell you about stuff he finds interesting. but you also use him as a pillow when he becomes extremely quiet, and honestly? it's pretty easy to co-exist with vernon regardless of the silence or the lack of it, because you always match his energy.
he sends you pictures of whatever he thinks you'll like, whether it's a meme or a sunset, but sometimes he sends you stuff he likes — like a cool monument he saw in new york or his cat or a picture of two snails on the side of the road with the caption "us?"
seriously, opening his texts is like a wild card (in a good way).
he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely.
you're slightly more affectionate than him, which is something he doesn't mind.
he's not the first to initiate hugs, but you can trust that he's always going to find your hand for a high five or a fist bump or a quick side hug.
if you're sitting together on the couch listening to music or watching something on the television, he lets you loop your arm through his like it's something you do every day (which it most definitely is).
vernon wasn't very physical in the beginning of your friendship, but now you're used to a light brush of his hand against yours, your shoulders bumping for a second or two, a poke to your cheek — just your things.
now the thing is this: you have a crush on vernon. a huge crush that doesn't seem to be going away any time soon.
"i knew it!" dokyeom says shrilly, and you wince. you love him, but you're not sure if he's capable of keeping your secret.
"was it that obvious?"
"of course it was! i've seen the way you look at him. like he's the funniest guy in the room, even if he's not. or like he's the hottest guy in the room. which he—"
"—is," you finish, and bite your tongue. dokyeom doesn't need to know exactly how in deep you are.
dokyeom shakes his head. "i can't believe he doesn't know."
"kyeom, if you tell him, i swear—"
"i won't! i kind of want to see how long it takes for him to realize."
"i don't think he will," you say, looking over to where vernon is sitting on the couch and arguing with seungkwan and seungcheol about the best movie from 2008.
"how do you know that?"
you shrug. "i've tried dropping subtle hints. he's just...oblivious."
dokyeom follows your gaze and sighs. "he really is. but if you ask me," he says, turning to raise an eyebrow. "this really could go somewhere."
every year, you spend valentine's day together.
it started as a joke the first time — vernon's date somehow cancelled on him at the last moment, and he showed up to your place with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.
you thought your heart was going to fall out of your body, but he sheepishly explained he didn't know where else to go, or who else to give them to.
it turned into a rant about how he didn't believe in or care about the holiday anymore.
but now it's your tradition to enjoy each other's company rolling your eyes and booing at cheesy movies.
(you wish they'd come to life, specifically with vernon, but he doesn't have to know.)
he isn't the best at comforting you with words. you learned that a long time ago and know it well even now. yet he's the first person you turn to when something's wrong.
you're wrapped in a blanket on vernon's sofa, a hot mug of cocoa in front of you next to a bowl of snacks, but your mind isn't on any of them. why, you think. why, why, why me. you feel terrible for the space you're occupying, even though you've curled up into a ball.
"hey," vernon says from above you, and the next thing you know, you're pulled into him. "i don't know what to say to make it better, and...i don't know what else i can do, but tell me, okay?"
you nod.
"i'm sorry."
you stop crying at that, trying to blink away your tears but failing. "why?"
"he was a dick, and you never deserved someone so shitty."
you try to inhale, but it's shaky. "i'm just...so tired," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't know why i keep attracting idiots like him. and i hate that you always have to see me like this."
"like this?"
"in pieces. crying. whatever."
"you're not in pieces," vernon says, running his hand over your back. "you're sad. it happens. and i don't mind being here, okay? i'm always here. sorry."
you snort. "you've apologized more to me than he's ever done at this point."
"now you know who to keep around longer," vernon smiles.
you wonder if vernon's aware of the things he does. he talks to you like there's no one else he'd rather be with at the moment. he bends down to meet your eyes when you're talking about something, and you're amazed he hasn't noticed you short-circuiting in the middle of your sentences more than a few times now. he finds the most random things to give you every now and then.
"huh?"
"pebble. reminded me of pou."
"pou? vernon, that was so long ago!"
"do you want me to skip this rock?"
"no, wait—"
fights with him aren't really fights, because one of you always caves in and has to make up.
"your neck's going to hurt," you hear vernon say softly, probably trying not to wake you up. but you weren't really asleep in the first place.
"why do you care?" you grumble, sitting up straight and wincing when your neck does, in fact, hurt.
"i don't hate you just because we had a fight," he says, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "sore necks suck."
you chew on your cheek for a while, not wanting to say the words you know are inevitable. "fighting with you sucks, too."
he says nothing; just hugs you tighter.
you're surprised at how well you've adapted to vernon going out on dates.
it wasn't easy, you'll admit. at first it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest while also being crushed, but now it's okay (maybe because he hasn't been dating as much recently — you can't remember the last one he even went on).
you're nothing if not a supportive best friend, so you're okay with the few times his dates go well enough to tell you about.
you teasingly tell him not to give you too many details, but you wonder if he knows why you really ask that of him.
both of you act like a married couple, according to your friends. it made you blush at first, but there's no point reacting to it anymore because it's just not true. vernon doesn't like you the way you like him, and the way you're affectionate with each other is...hard to explain. just friends, you say, even though you wish you were more.
"you're dishgushting," dokyeom says, mouth stuffed full of pizza while he pours himself some coke.
you give him a look. "you or me?"
dokyeom nods, chewing aggressively before swallowing his bite. "you. and vernon. can't stop giving each other those eyes all the time. makes me sick."
"...eyes?"
"like you need a room or something. like there's no one else in here with you guys."
"we don't do that, kyeom."
he snorts inelegantly. "ask anyone. you're lucky jeonghan hasn't snitched on you yet."
and maybe, just maybe, vernon treats you somewhat differently than he treats his friends.
you always get the first bite of his food, always listen to new vinyls he gets on the weekends, sprawled out on the floor and letting the music seep into your skin, always get to steal his hoodies whenever you're cold — you can't think of any other friend of his who gets the same treatment.
but that's just best friend privilege.
at least that's what you tell yourself.
after vernon comes back from his latest tour, he becomes more touchy with you — resting a hand on your thigh, tracing the shell of your ear, linking pinkies with you.
maybe it's just his way of reconnecting with you after being away for so long.
but doesn't he realize what he's doing to your heart?
probably not, you think, when he wraps his arms around your waist one morning when you're in front of his vinyl collection, trying to pick something you think you'll like.
"sol?" you ask, patting his hands before resuming browsing through his shelf.
"hey."
"what's up?"
"tired."
"shouldn't you be in bed, then?"
"you weren't there."
you pause, the magdalene vinyl in your hand threatening to fall before you place it back. "i'm never there."
"wanna change that?"
"what?"
"what."
you think it's some silly pick-up line he's trying to test on you, so you gently push him back to his bedroom, threatening to leave his home if he doesn't sleep for a few more hours.
but it doesn't end there.
those pick-up lines pop up in the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected company. you shake your head and laugh them off, but you wonder why he's behaving like this.
there's one possible explanation for it, but you're not going to let yourself walk down that path. not unless he does it first.
vernon's quiet on the walk back to your car from the supermarket, half your groceries with you and the other half with him. he doesn't say anything when you point out his shoelace is untied, or his hair is sticking up a bit weirdly for his liking, or even the fact that there's a cat sitting right next to your car before it skitters away a few seconds later.
you're not worried. vernon does have those moments where he zones out so hard no one can get him back for a while, and this seems to be one of them.
"i love you," he finally says.
your hand fumbles with the grip of your bag. not cool, not when there's a couple of glass jars in there. there's going to be nothing cute to put the cookies in if you break them now.
"i love you too?" you offer, because it's not uncommon for you to say it to each other. it's just that vernon's never brought it up unprompted before.
"no. not how you think."
not how you think? how...
oh.
you can only stare at vernon, mind running a million miles an hour while he refuses to look at you, suddenly finding interest in that untied shoelace.
"love me love me?"
he nods, almost imperceptible if you weren't looking for it. it gives you a sudden boost of courage, of happiness, of everything good. you weren't wrong, after all. you put the rest of the groceries in the trunk and turn to face him.
you've seen this sight hundreds of times before — vernon with his messy hair, in this very hoodie with jam stains on the left sleeve, and those brown eyes that light up from the inside when the sun hits them just the right way and make him look like the most handsome man in the world — but it's like you've been seeing the world, even vernon, in monochrome till he said those words.
chroma.
"oi," you say, grabbing his face in your hands. "sol."
he just blinks.
"are you sure? absolutely sure?"
"yeah," he says, voice a bit rougher than usual, and you see yourself in his eyes for a moment. "i am. but i'm sor—"
you shut him up with a quick peck to his lips, uncaring of who might be seeing you right now. you know you're going to be embarrassed about it, squeal about it to dokyeom, bury your face in your pillow and question if any of it was real, but right now, it doesn't matter.
you've shocked vernon, for once. it feels good. he's staring at you with his mouth open, hands clutching your wrists like there's no tomorrow.
"you're not the only one," you explain, all bravado fizzling out when his full focus lands only on you.
"oh? yeah?" he asks, pulling you closer.
"mm."
he rubs his thumb across one of your wrists. "do you have eggs?"
"...what?" back to regularly scheduled programming, then. trust vernon not to make it weird.
"eggs. or ice cream. anything that needs the fridge. because i want to take you out on a date right now."
some things change: vernon becomes your boyfriend. you move in together a few months later. it's not the first time you've met his mother, but you're still nervous.
but the best thing of all is that he's yours now.
he even tells you how he realized he loved you back.
"i just...remembered you arguing with me about whether penne or fusilli was better, and my only thought was, i want this with you. for however long i could have it. i think i just loved you for so long, but...i didn't realize it was that love. i finally understood why kyeom-hyung kept telling me to get my shit together."
"sol—"
"no one knows me like you do and i don't want anyone else to. yeah."
"sol, babe, i was just asking if you want me to take out the trash."
"you...oh," he says, grinning in that shy way he does. "thought you asked me if i wanted you. but hey, if i'm trash for you, you're legally obligated to take me out, right?"
i've never put pictures before but he's SO boyfriend material, look at him
taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi
#yo i didn't ramble i just threw up a large volume of words i REALLY hope you like this#like WHAT is this. even i'm shocked#BUT i love writing 'oh' moments. peak writing idc idc#also there are two wolves inside you: WOULD he fucking say that and he would NOT fucking say that#guess i just love him too much :)#chwe hansol#chwe hansol fluff#vernon#vernon fluff#fluff#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#waldau writes#req
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Steven Grant + Marc Spector x Reader
Warnings >~< = Hair pulling, mild brat taming
Not proof read
Shutting your eyes, you attempted to breathe normally - anger radiating off you in waves as you sat criss cross on the sofa - gaming controller almost on the brink of breaking in your tight grip.
It's just a game, it's just a game, its-
Marc's scolding words repeating in you head as you (forcefully) dropped the controller on the floor, the satisfying sound of the plastic doing little to ease your frustration.
'Just a game.' You murmured, shutting your eyes momentarily so you didn't have to keep staring at the DEFEAT! on the tv screen.
However, as soon as you reopened them - the anger flew right back.
'Fucking assholes! Spamming the same controls doesn't make you a better player-.' You rambled, face flushing as you felt yourself getting worked up.
'And my stupid fucking team, like seriously-'
'Darlin’?'
You snapped your mouth shut at the sudden voice of Steven, turning your head to look at where he was stood by the front door. He was dressed in his usual oversized attire, brows pinched together.
'You okay there?' His voice was soft, head tilting in that adorable way when he was unsure.
You pursed your lips, one side of you knowing that you should just take your loss and move on. But, you couldn't shake it off, it was too fresh.
'I'm fine.' You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the sofa as you looked back to the tv.
DEFEAT!
PRESS 'X' TO CONTINUE
You heard Steven's footsteps as he migrated through his apartment, the sound of something heavy dropping on the counter before the tapping of his shoes made their way to you.
You felt slightly stupid for staring at the unmoving tv screen but made no move to change the channel or start a new game.
You felt him loom over you from behind, hand coming up to rub the top of your head lovingly.
'Aw darling, you know its-'
'I know Steven.' You yourself almost winced at the bite in your tone.
He didn't respond, a pregnant pause hanging in the air before he gently removed his hand from your head.
'Okay, well let me know if you-'
'Uh huh.' You cut him off, the rush of being an utter brat going straight to your head.
While Steven was sweet, you also knew that he loved to ring you back and put you in your place - problem was that it took a long time before that switch would set off inside him.
Giving you the perfect open window to let your frustration spew with no consequences.
Uncrossing your arms, you leaned forward and away from Steven to reach for the remote - lips set in a pout.
You weren't expecting the tight grip your hair was succumbed to, fist unforgiving as you were yanked back to your original position, back flat against the sofa.
'That any way to talk to Steven pretty girl?'
You swallowed thickly at the sound of Marc's unmissable American accent, throat bobbing at the sudden nerves racking your body.
'Hm?' He probed, hand pulling your hair even more taught as he leaned down into your space, running his nose over you jaw and then down to your neck.
Your body immediately shut down, Marc's intimidation and dominance usually having that effect on you.
'And now you're ignoring me, just digging yourself a deeper hole.' He reprimanded, using his hold on your hair to give himself more access to your neck.
'I'm sorry.' Your voice was quiet and meek, complete opposite to your earlier coldness.
Shutting your eyes, you accepted your fate when you felt him chuckle into you - lips brushing your skin and making you feel like an exposed nerve.
'No you’re not.' He pulled away, cold air cooling your warming skin.
You gasped, eyes shooting open when the hand in you hair somehow tightened, pulling your head back until it was rested over the edge of the sofa, Marc's displeased upside down face coming into view.
'But you will be sweet girl.'
#moon knight#marc spector smut#marc spector#marc spector x reader#steven grant#steven grant x reader#moonknight smut#moonknight x reader#jake lockley#mr knight#khonshu#moonknight#brat taming#jake lockely x you#jake lockely smut#jake lockely x reader#moon knight system#marc spector moon knight#marc spector x you#steven grant x you#steven grant one shot#part 2?
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Winter Boots
Last year, when winter hit the city, Hero thought it was best to prepare for the weather with a quick adjustment to their attire. A little extra fur with a couple of layers did their suit justice. It maintained style while providing the warmth they needed when running outside.
This year, they planned on keeping the colour and style the same as they always did. Except, there would be a minor adjustment: their fine, long over the knee-length boots would be shortened to only their ankles. It wasn't as if the efficiency of the newer shoes was heightened, only that it was a style preference. They had debated it back and forth over a few weeks, and it wasn't like they would lose anything either.
So when Villain tilted their head and squinted their eyes during their routine battle, they felt nervous about their decision.
"It looks cute on you." They motioned with their hands at their suit.
Hero had to restrain a smile from escaping their lips. They wouldn't let Villain court them. However, the compliment made them feel much warmer, just enough to forget the snow surrounding them.
"You should focus on the fight, Villain." Their hands tightened into a fist, and their posture resumed its usual stance.
There were a few more seconds of an empty pause as the winds clashed against the frosted buildings around them. Villain looked to be in deep thought as they grappled in their mind on what to say next. "Although you make everything look good, I deeply miss the old boots. They had…" They looked to the sky for words, "an appeal to them."
Hero pulled their gaze away from Villain for a few seconds and fixated their focus back on their boots before staring at them again with a stern glare, "I don't need your opinion, Villain."
"I'm not saying you have to take it to heart." They shrugged.
Hero lunged at them again, their fists aiming to hurt Villain just enough to reassure them of their strength. Hero sent a kick to their left and another to the right, only for Villain to grab hold of their foot.
Hero gasped as they almost slipped on the pile of snow beneath them. "Ah!-- You better let go of me!" Their body was tiled, and Hero looked for something to hold as they tried to maneuver their way out.
"Hold still now, love, I want to show you something." They slightly pinched at their calf, "See this here," Hero stifled a laugh; now was not the time to feel ticklish. This new position was too embarrassing to be in.
They tried yanking their leg away again before feeling weakened against their grip. "I had always admired these nice legs of yours. Have I ever told you that?" They teasingly smiled and waited for a reaction.
Hero blushed and shook their head fiercely to shake away the feeling growing in them. "You're unbeliveable, Villain. Can't you just stay professional for once?"
Villain ignored their comment and pulled their leg closer with a firm grip until it rested on their shoulder. "Relax, I just wanted to help you see this from my perspective-"
"You pull me any closer to you and I'm going to pull a hamstring!"
"The boots, the ones that you used to wear, they just had a way of defining these legs better." They watched as Villain's fingers ran smoothly up and down their leg. "Do you see where I'm getting at?" they winked cooly.
Hero slipped their foot out of their grip and jumped a few meters back, slightly tumbling.
Did their nemesis seriously just ask them to wear the older boots for their pleasure? Had they been paying that much attention to their legs all this time?
Their eyes flickered back and forth with confusion and anxiousness. It shouldn't be this big deal, yet Hero knew they were over the moon with all of Villain's alert comments. It wasn't as if they had intentionally thought of what their rival would think, but hearing their admiration for it made their heart jump.
Hero pulled down the fur coat to cover whatever they could, "You're just saying that to distract me."
"Oh, I can assure you the only person here doing the distracting is you."
They bit their lip to counter the growing heat spreading across their cheeks, hoping that Villain had mistaken it for a reaction to the cold. They couldn't help themselves when they responded this way; it looked like for Villain, it would be their victory for now. Hero decided to leave the conversation hanging and sprint away instead, a relatively common behaviour they developed when Villain's advancements started getting to their head.
They shouldn't be feeling this way. It wasn't very honourable of them, especially since their sole job was to defeat Villain and protect whatever version of justice they saw as true. Yet, their heart still lingered in the air, searching for Villain's words even in the comfort of their own home.
Hero, now in their regular civilian clothes, retired to bed early. Only knowing whatever was ahead of them would only strengthen Villain's infatuation for them.
In the dark of the night, they lay in bed still contemplating Villain's words. Did their legs really look that presentable?
They lifted up their thigh and stretched out their sore muscles. It didn't look significant to them… Maybe it was all empty words, something to keep their mind at bay and to let Villain win.
Their heart paced rapidly as their eyes landed on the soft fabrics of their suit and the small boots sitting neatly inside their closet, hidden from any prying eyes.
Hero sat up and walked gently with soft feet; their cheeks still flushed from hours earlier. Behind the endless piles of clothes were their older boots. They never found them central to their uniform, but Villain did.
Carefully, they slipped them on and stood in front of a mirror. Their own eyes scan the change in their appearance. It was slightly attractive now that they thought about it for a bit.
Their heart nearly escaped their chest with the thought of returning to fight Villain and having them notice the obvious switch they've made.
In their head, Hero could already see it. The slight curvy smile and knowing eyes when they've only just arrived at the scene. They would rather die than imagine a scenario at all, even if their mind started to race with many other wonderfully intimate ideas that had them worked up.
"Deep breath." They sucked in some air and blew it back out to calm their nerves. Their hands were shaking. What was wrong with them? They didn't care about how their body appeared to anyone. Not even for Villain.
That's right.
They're only switching back because they always knew they wouldn't like their new boots anyway.
When it reached the time to make their first debut in their readjusted uniform, Hero had to run a series of conversations with themselves to push them into the spotlight. It wasn't a pleasant morning, but it wasn't a reason time to complain. The news did warn of heavy snow and sleet. It wouldn't get any better either as the season made its way deeper and deeper into winter.
Hero watched with eagerness as a familiar figure emerged from the heavy fog and walked effortlessly to their place.
The crunch of snow below their feet drew closer until they could hear their rival's voice between the whisps of the winds. "Lovely weather we're having, hm?" Their eyes pierced straight into their own and sent chills down their back. Hero was here for one thing: to stop Villain's advancement on the day's mission; they always caused chaos for whatever corruptable plan they'd conjured up for months before. There was also reason number two, but they weren't sure if they even wanted to admit to it yet.
Before they could get the chance to even mention or even hint at the change, Villain's gaze already coursed their way down their body and to their sleek boots.
They heard a short hum of approval, and as expected, a sly smirk worked its way up their face.
With their mind already set on formulating an excuse, Hero blurted out their thoughts, "I didn't do it for you, alright?"
"Okay…" Their irritating grin remained planted, unwilling to leave them alone. "Whatever you say, my love."
"I didn't!" They stomped their foot onto the ground as if mimicking a child. Their face felt like it was going to burst into flames.
"I believe you, Hero. There's no need to defend yourself." Even as they said that, they caught a small laugh at the end of their sentence, playing with them, "Just think it's a funny coincidence…" They pushed.
They pouted in response, their voice already too nervous to do all the talking, leaving it to their expressions.
"You look beautiful either way though, just so you know." They chuckled.
~~~
MASTERLIST
#hero#heroxvillain#hero x villain#villainxhero#villain x hero#villain prompts#hero prompts#romance prompts#fluff prompt#pining prompts#imagine your otp#otp#writing#writblr#cute prompts#unreciprocated love#unrequited pining#romance trope#romance tropes#hero x villain community
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ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ [1, 2, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3
There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.
content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite
word count: 10k
“I have not been meeting with Steve.” you scowled behind gritted teeth. Balled fists return to your side. Pin-point daggers shoot back, unphased.
It’s an absurd notion on its own, that you betray him in the slightest. You also know you’ve had sneezes last longer than that conversation–how the hell did Tony know about it?
“Try again.” He doesn’t return your heat in his voice, leaving that to be felt through his grasp.
“Fine, I ran into Steve, but come on, you seriously think I would–”
“Not sure what to think given how easy it just was for you to lie to me.”
“You’ve been lying to me from the start!”
You pulled yourself from his grasp, tossing the bag onto the island. Cream marble and translucency make for wonderful camouflage, almost losing itself in the light entirely.
“I’d hardly call my personal habits comparable to sneaking around.”
Adrenaline does what it knows best, keeping you pliant and pissed. Two things that erode rationalism like rust. The iron spreads to whatever argument you would’ve made had there been more time to prepare. Or sense to see the mosaic pattern here. Time stills for no more than a few seconds–and that’s all Tony needs.
“So, go ahead, please. Tell me more about what I should think .”
He says it so permissively, you might have obliged if his jaw loosened even a bit to do so. That tiny breadth of space is stalked through by shiny leather oxfords. You’re given a not so pleasant reminder of his stature when he's in front of you again, more overwhelming than before. The cool stone island digs into your back.
“Here I was actually worried something could have happened to you–turn’s out you’re searching for, what , exactly?”
The reversal almost worked, really. The reminiscent guilt came back as it always does. You felt the same way for wanting to leave back in California months ago. Even all that time ago in that dimly lit boutique. Tony showed you time and time again how much he loved you– wanted you, and here you were, finding another reason to push him away.
You were so close to giving in. The marble’s nearly swallowed the powdery bag whole by now, for it takes you longer to see the plastic outline bouncing back at you.
Tony waits, hands tucked into the pocket of his suit pants (in a very deliberate attempt to hide his own unease). His eyes still bore back into you like a hawk, and you wanted to surrender to them until their pin-point, reddened nature dawned on you. Then, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the tempo beating fast your own. The shake in his hands when he held you in place.
To Tony, you meet his eyes with something far more heart-piercing than anger, and he gets a sick feeling of deja vu. You wouldn’t know–his face stone cold from years of practice. But this close, you can see something worse.
“You’re wasted right now .”
You don’t bother making it a question (it’s a quiet scoff). Nor do you bother to wait for the response he’s struggling to muster. Decades of life yet he lacked a great deal of experience in getting called on his shit. All the air seems to leave the room, saving just the few breaths you have remaining in your lungs.
“We’re done.”
You use them wisely, calmly , even, to head for the elevator and as far away from this as possible. Despite the fact your ears are ringing. Don’t ask where you find the willpower. You push past him, rather easily because Tony moves for the sanctity of his shoulder and knee.
Your fingers go to grace the brass buttons, but Tony crosses the threshold with far fewer steps and positions himself between you and the opening door.
“ Move , Tony.” you say sternly, though it feels ridiculous raising your voice at someone whose gaze you have to look up to meet.
“Don’t want to keep Mr. America waiting, of course.”
“Seriously?” you scoff, eyes rolling. “You’re still on that?”
“I don’t know, you still wanna lie to me?”
“How many times do I need to tell you–”
“I know you were with him, so you can cut the bullshit.”
“I told you, I ran into Steve. That’s . It. ” you respond, making another move for the button just for Tony to shift an inch to the left.
“You two looked very cozy outside that bar. Let me guess, he ordered a Manhattan and you just couldn’t say no.”
“For god’s sake, no . He came out while I was waiting and asked me not to tell you–end of story.” You’d hoped that added details would be enough to assuage him–at least to move out of your way.
“So, you decided all on your own to rummage through the bathroom?”
As many of his questions tend to be, he already knows the answer. Even still, the look you give is telling on its own.
“I mean, really–” he chuckles dryly, “Please tell me what is so special about him that you keep trusting him over me.”
“He, for one, isn’t controlling or watching my every move–out of the way, Tony.” you repeat, exhausted.
Tony’s eyes dart down to the elevator panel he’d done such a phenomenal job of blocking, before glancing back at your pleading face. That seems to do the trick, because he presses the call button himself and gestures open arms into the small space.
“By all means, knock yourself out.”
Shocked, but without another word, you enter. As you turn and press L for the lobby, you expect Tony’s irate face staring back at you.
Instead, you catch the patterned fabric lining the back of his suit vest as he walks away.
Once the elevator doors shut, Tony loses his last semblance of composure.
A sheer crystal serving tray by the stove behind him, topped with an array of ornate glasses, is thrown straight across the kitchen where it crashes to a million pieces at the plush living room rug.
He truly does not enjoy your penchant for storming off today or any other day.
Today is the worst, though, for two reasons. One, he’s not certain that letting you leave was the best move in the long-term. Two, you promised never to do this in the first place–you fucking promised.
Another innocent bystander (this time a glass pitcher) joins the pile in the living room.
Stuttery hands brace the counter. It’s of little effort for him to keep a hardened facade in the face of anger, but now that you’re not here to see it, the stone mask cracks. Shame, guilt, anger and that sneaky trickster known as self-righteousness blend up into something new entirely. There’s no pride in this for him, truly.
The billionaire was so certain when he saw the photos. You and fucking Rogers of all people, talking so close. Paranoia and a lack of reasonable perspective means his first thoughts are not pleasant in any shape or form. He wasn’t controlling , everything he did was preventative. This was self-confirmation (and a shit ton of jealousy). You’d simply done the thing he was most afraid of.
Or it was the thing he was most afraid of.
The counter stays tight under his grasp until his hands sport two fresh indentations, cursing himself and trying not to think about how breakable the chandelier is.
Just as he was sure of the photos, he was sure of you . You wouldn’t leave him, you were here to stay, you wanted him–right?
Only now under the cool touch of marble does he realize those ideas could never possibly co-exist.
No one as good to him as you would betray him, you wouldn’t. But you could reach the breaking point he sought so heavily to avoid in the beginning.
All alone in his tower built atop money and bad habits, the chandelier is spared as the great Tony Stark starts to break instead.
That is until he remembers he isn’t alone.
“Jarvis.” he calls out, and the older man emerges from the hallway no louder than a mouse.
Don’t feel embarrassed, the walls and loyal ears have certainly heard worse. Discretion is 90% of his job after all. In fact, right now he’s pretending not to notice the tears running down Tony’s face.
“Find out where she went.”
Tony keeps his head trained to the countertop anyway, just in case. Jarvis turns to follow through his instructions, but stops as soon as he starts. Decades of serving the Stark family is enough to know he’s probably better off holding his tongue. He speaks for your sake.
“Sir, I suspect she went home.”
At this, the wetness is dried by his shirt sleeve, already grabbing his coat to follow you.
“Sir,” Jarvis quickly interjects, Tony’s fingers on the call button. “Might I suggest…waiting until the morning?”
He doesn’t need to say why. Tony can guess well enough.
You actually had no destination in mind. The thought of home felt disgustingly empty, and the reminder that you only still had it because of Tony would definitely stay persistent. You couldn’t bear to think about what you might've done to pay for it otherwise. Going to a friend’s would require an explanation you absolutely could not give. For a while, you wander just as before. You must look insane to the people passing by–makeup definitely stained and running.
A rudimentary pros and cons list is drafted, revised, deleted, and drafted once more. Sure, you didn’t have a slew of loves to compare it to, but you knew the one you had for Tony was irreplaceable. No one ever made you feel this wanted , this loved , this special . No ex of yours left a dozen roses by your door–or waited in the car for hours while you slept. They didn’t fill their lacquer kitchen cabinets with herbal teas just because you mentioned liking them once . Hibiscus and rooibos flooded Tony’s kitchen so long as it kept you happy . Every other relationship was a caustic whirlpool. Tony was a dizzying fantasia. You gleefully closed your eyes so many times that the thought of opening them made you nauseous.
You swallow stale bile and keep walking.
The dusky hue in the sky grows to a fine oceanic blue above you until you gain enough sense to go home. Out of spite (and totally not because you have no other way), you take the subway home, cheeks raw from the night’s sharp wind on your tears.
Your heels clank awkwardly on the metal descent, echoing on the platform. It’s empty, sharply different from the vamping nightlife outside. It’s not long before your train hustles down the track, stepping on to an disturbingly, equally empty train car.
You slump into the first empty seat you see. In a calmer mood, you might’ve bothered with your phone, instead staring into your reflection on the glass pane. The gentle rocking starts soon after, and you work on putting your mind somewhere besides bergamot and red.
Tony does not like waiting.
He would be working, if he could find even a shadow of concentration. All he can think about is you– the grit in your voice.
At some point in his marathon around the penthouse, the small pile of glass is quietly cleaned away. Out of sheer boredom (and latent regrets), he considers creating a new one.
Why would you leave him– how could you leave him?
In the idle night hours, pacing from room to room, Tony almost wishes you had cheated on him. Then, he could be right. He could skip past silly little thought pieces over his vices addiction and fly straight to indignity. It wouldn’t be his fault, would it? He wouldn’t have to explain a damn thing to a world that didn’t care for him.
Everyone betrayed him in the end, even you.
With enough clarity, he might be able to see the shame hiding under all that self-righteousness, but alas. Years of practice and all.
The best he can do for now is scalding admonishment.
And a pinch of paranoia that his own actions caused Steve to seek you out–again. Tony knew the soldier was stupid, but that would be moronic . He made himself perfectly clear this morning, no shot Steve chose this as the method for exacting his revenge. It wasn’t a well-guarded secret amongst Tony’s circle that you were to be left ignorant, you weren’t like them . Really, he’d purposefully (and harshly) informed this as much. If Steve wanted to embarrass him then he failed succeeded miserably. The fact he would even attempt such a thing is the greater offense.
Tony’s self-indulgent, not an idiot. Even under watered layers of complexes, he knows the greatest offense lies ten feet away on his kitchen counter. In fact, it’s what keeps him awake through the night. Awake and thinking–thinking about how fucking flawlessly he was keeping everything under wraps. This infallible image he crafted for you was gone. No longer could he hide behind a glass barrier of false separation. Foolish Tony–believing a second chance would come so freely.
He made the same mistake twice. The odds he’d get a third chance were slim to none. At the time, he felt lucky to even have Pepper. Clearly he’s doing something worth rewarding on this Earth, because then he found you. Or, alternatively, God realized what a disservice he’d done by walking missile Tony’s way in the first place.
You were invaluable. Nothing like his playboy flings or one-night stands. From the moment he laid eyes on you he knew his life would never be the same without you.
You promised , and he intends to make good on it even if you won’t.
Tony can’t recall the last time he waited for a damn thing in his adult life (much less to sober up), and he doesn’t care much for starting something new today. Then, he remembers just how much patience he has for you. He waits for you patiently as you oggle every mural, piece of street art, or weird boutique. He waits as quietly as can be while you sleep, and he waited months for you to feel comfortable enough to spend consecutive nights at his home.
There’s a pit growing in his chest–one screaming that his hard work might be swirling down the drain. How stupid he was for letting you storm off. With each passing second, you were sinking further from his grasp.
To hell with waiting.
After all, he’s Tony Stark –he’d deny himself of nothing he desired. He didn’t work this hard to settle for less than that.
In his defense, he does attempt to do the courteous thing of calling before showing up randomly in the middle of the night. Your phone, hopelessly abandoned deep in your purse, rings to no answer. It totally doesn’t make him more irate.
One extremely lonely, and infuriating train ride later, you make it home. You jump when a knock vibrates through your apartment–though you know there’s only one person who’d show up in the middle of the night. Still, you tiptoe across the living to peer through the peephole anyway. While you were not super enthusiastic about seeing him outside your door this soon, the defeated slump in his shoulders gives you some satisfaction.
A very brief, stereotypical through-the-door conversation ensues. You shout for him to leave, to which Tony provides the usual platitudes to just open the door and you respond further with a stout fuck no . You roll your eyes at his continued pleas, and turn for your bedroom. He could sit out there and talk to the door all night like a madman if it suited him, but you weren’t going to spend a precious second on this earth listening to it.
You don’t even make it past your couch before you hear what you swear to god cannot be your lock turning. God, Buddha, and everything else divine must have been busy, because Tony stands in the entryway, illuminated by the kitchen stove light.
“Have you lost your mind ? Where the hell did you get a key?”
He shrugs and looks around like it’s obvious.
“The lease holder is usually given a key, especially if they’re paying.”
The aghast scoff can’t wait to leap from your throat.
“You know what, fuck you .” you spat, flying past him to the door. “No good deed , huh?”
Somewhere between you storming out earlier in the night and his decision to come here (or maybe walking up the creaking stairs) he seems to have gotten the impression you were in a joking mood. There’s nothing but sweetness in his voice now, yet you still can’t trust that you know where his head’s at. Your night had been tumultuous enough without him showing up.
Your fingers just barely wrap around a cool metal knob, the hall light leaving a thin warm line on your face. Tony braces a heavy palm above your head the second it does, closing it shut with a frame wobbling thud .
“A bit rude to run out on me twice, don’t ya think?” he smirks, looking down at you.
“A bit rude to force your dirty money on someone then hold it over their head, don’t you think?” you mock, stupidly trying to pull the handle open a second time, unbudging against Tony’s palm, biceps testing the elasticity of his silk shirt. You were getting tired of constantly feeling trapped.
You wish you’d stay far away, in the safety of the living room where citrus didn’t take you over. Where that hopeless little part of your brain could stay quiet and not scream to wrap your arms around his torso. Also because the door doesn’t move a fucking centimeter, so it was a waste of energy regardless.
“If you wanted someone who’d let you work yourself to death or end up on the street, you should’ve called that guy from your high school reunion back. You know–the real handsy one with the mohawk.”
“I’ll get right on that if you move out of the fucking way.”
“Please, like I’d ever allow that.” Tony laughs, and you’re wondering why you appear as some sort of one-woman comedy act by every man in this city.
“What the hell do you want? I told you–I’m done with this.”
He ends his chuckle with a tsk , leaving you in the living room to sit at your kitchen table. The feet of the metal chair make a discordant screech across the linoleum and he turns the seat towards you before sitting.
“You don’t mean that, honey.” Tony smiles, tapping his shoes against the floor.
“I meant it.”
He gestures back towards the entryway.
“Nothing but space and opportunity to run away again, what’s stopping you?”
“You just said you wouldn’t let me.” You’re giving it your all not to shout, to scream at him for how insane this is. If you were still at the tower, you might not have bothered–far away from neighbors with loose lips and thin walls.
“I’d never allow you to waste your time with someone else. Storm off as much as you like–that won’t keep you from me.”
It’s all cool words and charisma, with a sickeningly violet weight that flips your stomach. He’s far across the space, and the door is still within inches of your grasp.
“Find literally anyone else to sit here and play this game with you.”
“What part of ‘ I want you, and only you ’ do you not understand?”
The kitchen stove light still illuminates his figure, casting a dim shadow over his back to shadow his figure across the floor. His feet continue to tap idly, head resting on his palms as if confused to why such a statement even needed to be told to you (again).
“You were getting along just fine before you met me, go back to that–I don’t want any part of whatever the hell else it is you’ve been lying about–”
“I’m not letting you go.”
That sweetness is his voice is pushed out to make room for pure desperation. The words waiver as they leave him, clearly fighting against whatever instinct wanted to hold it in, though you can’t help wondering if that’s all that caused the shake. An air of silence falls, where he watches you from the kitchen with stabbing eyes. Walking away is logical, but something unnatural freezes you in place. Plus, you’re not certain he wouldn’t fly to the door again the moment you touch it.
“Why me?”
Another short silence and this time you’re the one to take advantage of it, louder than you needed to be.
“And why accuse me of sneaking around? I barely even spoke to him how the hell did you know–”
“Were you not?”
Your nostrils flare, nails digging into tight wound palms. Water droplets leave the kitchen faucet in out of time drips. This is why your fingers shook and bore a million typos to correct. Lying to Tony Stark was one of the stupidest riskiest things you could do.
“I just needed time to think–”
“To play Nancy Drew..” He corrects. It’s not tempered, just matter-of-factly–like a lawyer pointing out bad evidence.
“I needed to see for myself–”
“ Asking totally wasn’t an option.” Tony meets your volume with too much ease.
“Like you would have told me the truth !”
“I’ve never lied to you–”
“Oh, right , you only speak in half-truths, or say it’s nothing to ‘concern myself with ’!” Your anger pulls you across the creaky floors of the entryway, feet tethering on the wood boundary lining off the tile of the kitchen.
“You’re not–”
“That’s the real reason Pepper left you, isn’t it? Not any of that bullshit you tried to sell me L.A–she left because you play like some larger-than-life billionaire and not the shady piece of shit you are.”
You don’t have to continue your slow stampede into the kitchen, as the chair makes another unsettling screech on the tile when Tony suddenly stands. An indignation only complimentary to your own is expected, but it isn’t what you get.
“I didn’t come here to be judged by you.” His mouth barely moves to say it–as even the slightest parting would cause him to shout back and have the fight you seem to be dying to have.
“Why the hell are you here?” A better phrased, more favored question in your opinion would have been ‘ why did you break into my apartment after I dumped you? ’, but the answer’s surely the same.
Tony can glare down lasers at you as much as he likes, he’s not getting his way (for once)–you aren’t crumbling (for once).
“I need you.”
That disgusting, heart-string tugging desperation comes back and it turns out you still haven’t built your defense strong enough. You’re taken aback, because you had prepped for a full blown argument. You had enough ammo loaded up to keep this going all night. But somehow, it’s a heavier three-word declaration than I love you . It’s not a murmur or with a racing chest.
And it is wholly true. Life had him placed on a giant, constant stage. Where he needed to be someone else–someone stronger and with rougher edges. It kept him enclosed. Where everything he hated about himself was reflected in everyone and everything around him. That kind of cycle is self-feeding. A snake gnawing at its exhausted tail for eternity. It was a spur of the moment decision to stop for a drink that night. Truthfully, he had more than enough already coursing through his veins, but the tower felt emptier than usual in his mind, and this career warrants you very few friends.
Maybe it was the flickering neon signs–glowing brand names across the sidewalk. The bustling noise flooded the rest of the quiet street like an overflowing bucket. It was a grimy, crowded hole in the wall–small, and cut away from the sprawling residential neighborhood around it. It reminded him of his life before he fucked it up. When no one knew his name or where he came from.
You were just an added bonus. He had planned to relish in the chaos of everyone around as he drank for inebriation instead of taste for once. But dark red nails pass him the glass, and he finds himself stuck watching them for the rest of the night. Despite the man Tony was, he wasn't anyone to you, and a woman like you shouldn’t have been anything to him.
He comes back simply out of craving. That anonymity , that freedom. From responsibility, from judgment. Tony realizes he’s befriended the snake too long. He accepted everything around him as a product of fate and piss-poor luck.You changed that. You made him remember a long forgotten fact–that everything he wanted was within arms reach.
Suddenly, your eyes take great interest in grout speckling the tile below. There wasn’t enough room for disbelief in the quaint walls of your apartment.
“You’re the only person who doesn’t see me, as–I don’t know, me?” he exhales, running over his face as he re-takes his seat.
“You,” you trail off, shoulders loosening just to earn a small tremble. “--actually mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
You’re gathering the bravado to say something along the lines of ‘ well asshole you were high as a kite when you told me you loved me and never said it again ’. Maybe without the asshole part. A difficult act indeed.
"I didn’t sign up for any of this." you murmur, trying to quench any further questions and avoid a very stern ‘ I told you so ’. But Tony's gaze remains fixed on your arm, making your nerves spike. “–if I had known everything, your work–”
“You wouldn't have agreed to see me, really ?” Tony grins and cocks an eyebrow that you miss in your deep inspection of the tile. “You weren’t clueless when we met.”
“I wasn’t but–”
“But what?” He sharply interjects. He can’t stand how your eyes land anywhere but him. This conversation is giving him deja vu, and not the whimsical kind. It’s the kind that wraps around the body and stops the flow of blood. “All of sudden you wanna have a ‘ come to Jesus ’ moment and find some moral high ground?”
Tony’s, unsurprisingly, not wrong. You had good enough sense the moment he slipped into that barstool, asking for a whiskey list as if the knife-shaped tear in the cushion couldn’t tell him that was pointless. A brief glance and finger of Jack Daniels was all he got from you. You spent the rest of the hour catering to the usual Friday night crowd of drunks, only thinking of him again when the shiny green bills made a funny reflection underneath his empty glass.
Honestly, you were more surprised no one took it for themselves.
It’s when he shows up a second night that you bother with conversation (purely out of gratitude and nothing else, right?). It’s the second night when you stay so, so much later than you should have, talking to someone you knew you shouldn’t be. You ignored it all then, just as you have for the last eight months. Burying your worries under a mountain of attachment and clouds of insecurity.
You were lucky. Shit, you feel that same gratuitous pang right now. Grateful that he still wanted you. Actually, to put it in his words– needed you. You’re not certain how much longer you could’ve kept it buried if you hadn’t asked Steve directly. You didn’t want him to be right, but all he did was validate every worry and order a swift excavation of everything you hoped wasn’t true.
“I kept telling myself that it was nothing, but–”” you trail off quietly.
“ But ?” he repeats.
You definitely can’t meet his gaze now, waiting for him to call you naive or tell you that this is somehow some huge misunderstanding. He doesn’t speak, though, and you can’t stop your mouth from opening under the weight of everything spinning in your head.
“But Steve says you’ve been doing this since you were in college.”
“That’s how Steve tells that story?” He scoffs.
“Come on, what else? Lay it on me, doll.” You watch a misshapen shadow stretch the length of the kitchen as Tony makes a dramatic beckoning of the hand.
“Why? So you can figure out what you don’t have to admit to?”
He takes a deep sigh that shifts into a short chuckle.
“You’ve been told a very half-cocked story, my apologies for trying to fix that. Trust me, Steve’s had it out for me for a while now.”
“I trust him a lot more than you right now.”
“That would be a bad choice.”
You snap your head up at the scorn. Where you gained this inclination to shoot back at everything with fire–you don’t know. You swear it’s just Tony, where sometimes you just want to match his arrogance tenfold.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that? I’ve learned more about you from him and so far, he hasn’t been wrong.”
“You know more about me than anyone, without running around behind my back.”
“Yeah, there's just the woman you’re still married to, the cocaine in your bathroom, your company, whatever the hell it is you do while I’m sleeping because you surely aren’t–”
“Alright, alright, okay,” he interrupts, tossing his hands up in defeat and leaning back. “Would you just sit down for a sec–humor me, will you?”
Sullenly, you pull out the matching metal chair across from him. As you sit, folding your arms over your chest, you wonder how fate has aligned that you’ve met such an infuriating and intoxicating person. And why you were even giving this hail mary display the time of day.
“Let me tell you a story, it’s a good one, swear.” Tony flashes a diamond grin and it takes everything in you not to return it. It does cool your nerves somewhat.
“Better be a good one.” you respond, and Tony promises it’s worth hearing.
“I’m in my last year at MIT taking this exam for this real stick-up-his-ass professor–I’m talking this guy doesn’t have the muscles required to smile, just all nonsense. It’s my last godforsaken test before winter break and I’ve gotta pass this to be done with this soul-sucking school–”
“You? Stressing about school? Already this story’s got holes in it.”
“Did you miss the part about this guy being a hardass? Because I could’ve sworn I mentioned it.”
“The test was all about theory and it didn’t matter how much you knew, you had to answer it the way he would. I actually had to focus for once and I’m on this question about integrating quantum computing with electrical grid systems, you know how the ions might–”
“Totally, right.” you remark once you realize a science lecture is inbound. Tony’s ramblings often came late and always flew completely over your head. Tonight, you’re just finding it hard to care.
“You are a really bad listener, you know that?”
That earns an instinctive smirk from you, but you sigh and let him continue.
“I’m ten equations and at least five paragraphs into this question and my pager starts going off. I don’t even bother checking what it is–I just hit silence and keep going.” he tells it like it’s a true epic, the sort you swap at tailgates or weddings to try to one-up someone else’s, but you get the sense it’s not.
“An hour later with like, the worst cramp in my hand and 500% certainty I failed, no big deal, I finally check the message–call Jarvis back and he tells me my parents were in an accident. The weirdest thing was I didn’t even think they were dead–”
“Tony–” you start, though you weren’t even sure what to say.
“Honestly,” he chuckles dryly, the bravado in his voice silking away. “I was kinda relieved, for a second. The old man would’ve ripped me a new one for failing that test and I just thought he was a little banged up–too busy nursing a broken arm or something to check my grades.”
Tony’s laugh fades off into a somber sigh, shifting in the wobbling chair. The count of drips in the sink to your right tells you it’s been silent too long. You still don’t have the words to fill it. What kind of words would they even be? Of comfort? Humor to dispel his sadness? If he even was , that is. You gave up on trying to read him.
“Anyway, my point is . I wasn’t ready to do this– I was 21, getting an electrical engineering degree, notice how that has nothing to do with medicine or biotech. So I did the cowardly thing–let someone else take the wheel and I’m still paying for it twenty years later. Believe me, I’m not loving this either.”
“Then why don’t you stop? I mean you still have a legitimate company, stop using it to make things you don’t want to make.”
“It sounds so incredibly simple when you put it like that. Gee, wonder why I didn’t think of that earlier.” He makes an exaggerated face of amazement. “Look, I didn’t want you to know because I don’t need someone else telling me how to handle things–it’s my company, it’s my job to sort this out.”
“Does your job require you to test the product yourself?” It’s a lot ruder than you mean it to be, but it’s the real issue corroding your mind.
“That’s one of the benefits we offer at Stark Industries.” he laughs.
You still aren’t feeling humorous, scoffing and standing the moment you realize he isn’t taking a word you say seriously. Tony’s fast behind you, stepping between you and the arch into the living room.
“Okay, okay. But you’re worrying yourself over nothing, doll. I’ve got it handled.” he assures you (poorly), bracing your shoulders with his hands.
“Yeah, from here it looks totally handled.”
Contrary to the snare in your words, you weren’t a heartless monster. You weren’t playing moral adjudicator like Tony might think. You can recognize this as one of his rare moments of emotional theater, but you can’t be bothered to care knowing what comes after if you fall for it. Especially when you can tell from how not-serious he’s taking this that there’s not a chance he’d stop using anytime soon. You were just tired of being lied to. And you weren’t going to keep watching him self-destruct. All you needed right now was your bed and hot, long shower to put this day behind you.
Tony sighs, abandoning your shoulders to pinch his nose.
“It’s just…You experience things and then they're over and you still can't explain 'em. This business, Pepper, things I can’t even put into words. I...I'm just trying to make sense of it all. The only reason I haven't cracked up is probably because you’re around a lot more. Which is great. I do love you, I'm lucky. But, honey, I can't sleep, not when there's so much to be done to get out of this.”
You’re stunned into silence again. Because Tony speaks a thousand miles a minute and you’re still getting used to hearing ‘ I love you ’ from a sober mouth.
“Tony, this isn’t–” you stammer.
“I know, I know, you’re gonna say this doesn’t change anything but I can’t do that without you, I won’t.”
Calloused hands brace your sides instead. Warm and loose instead of strict and holding. You can feel the static though. There’s an electric heat jumping between fingertips and white fabric that wants to hold you tight until you can’t tell the difference between his skin and yours. You’ll never see it another time so clearly, but the glaze in Tony’s eyes is desperate– unyielding . You’re scared to give in and only slightly less worried about what it means if you don’t.
You were pissed that he kept something from you– again . You still were. The whole world seemed privy to exactly who Tony Stark was, except you. You were an outsider looking in through frosted window panes. Like the new kid watching everyone else giggle at an inside joke you couldn't possibly understand.
But you couldn’t say he didn’t care for you. The most damning part was that you loved him . Whether it was truly reciprocated was another question, but you couldn’t think of any other reason he’s standing in your kitchen at three in the morning, letting the stained brown walls wash out the blue details in his suit vest.
So, you rather than blindly submit, you place a wager.
“Then promise me you’ll get help.” You force your voice to be stable, confident. You meet his eyes with the same bravado, stepping back from his grasp. If done properly, and he needed you as much as he so claimed, then you win your self-made bet.
You notice he doesn’t reach out to hold you close, instead staring pensively into you for a moment longer than you would like.
“Okay, done.” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly. “That all?”
“Really? That simple?” you ask, baffled
Tony shrugs again, the crisp folds of his vest giving way to a stout laugh then a sigh.
“If that’s what it takes.”
Afterwards, you’re able to easily separate your life into three segments. There’s life before you started dating billionaire Anthony Edward Stark, life after, and life when you started dating Tony . They are too separate individuals, afterall. You learn that in due time.
Anthony Edward Stark is a wealthy businessman, arrogant, withholding, charming, and a few notches above dedicated to you. He hates vegan food and wasting time.He's utterly hopeless in the kitchen, with a preference for iron red and a penchant for dry martinis (always dry, you learned this from serving him a classic out of habit on night two). There’s a collection of Black Sabbath albums hiding under his office desk, and there’s a slightly larger collection of ballpoint pens in the trash can nearby–caps gnawed to uselessness in one too many spirals of concentration.
Tony is much the same, in all respects. Eeeeexcept there’s that ex-wife he seemingly abhors. And the designer powdered death he proliferates through the city. And the addiction he promises to hold at bay. He keeps his end of the bargain, though and vicariously becomes someone new once he sleeps a whole lot more. Okay, okay so there's a lot. Overall, he is calmer. The fiery temper is dulled, replaced with an occasional unwarranted annoyance at the most mundane of things. At first, it’s concerning to you–watching his face screw at tailgating cars or broken zippers. Then, you find it pretty amusing, seeing someone so perfectly sewn together furrow their brows at long lines instead of losing it altogether at moments of chaos. Though you quickly figure out why he avoided sleep in the first place.
It doesn’t happen until your third night back at the tower. A drizzle coats the high windows of the bedroom, the moonlight barely enough to see the rise and fall of his chest beside you. You’re deep into sleep, curled into Tony when you’re jolted awake by a sudden movement. Your eyes flicker open, confused and scanning the silk sheets before he twitches again, muttering in his sleep.
Barely awake, you shifted onto your side, planting a hand on his chest. With his arms no longer wrapped around your side, another twitch sends them flying to his chest. His skin was warm, damp, mutterings continuing to fall from his lips–angry broken pleas for someone or something to stop. You’d think the windows were open with how bad he shivered.
“Tony,” you called out softly, rocking his shoulder. “Wake up.”
It takes a few more attempts, each shake growing stronger as you gain more clarity. One of them must have woken him, arms leaving his chest to push your arms away. Fresh off a nightmare and no more awake than you were, he used much more force than needed, completely overshooting your hands to inadvertently strike your cheek.
You winced at the unexpected blow, your hand instinctively flying to your slight sting. Swearing softly, you met his wide-eyed gaze. He moves away from you in the same instant, breathing heavily at the edge of the bed
“Shit–I’m sorry– Fuck,” His hands ran across his face and through his hair more times than you can count, still struggling to catch his breath. “I didn’t know you–”
“It’s okay-Are you okay?” you interrupted, far more concerned about the way how terrified he sounded in his sleep and barely feeling it anymore regardless.
“Yeah, all good, bad dream.” Tony swung his legs over the edge, head resting in his hands. “Shit, that shouldn’t have happened.”
You wanted to press him about it, but decided against it while his voice is this shaky.
Instead, you move to sit behind him and run a hand over the soft skin of his back until his breath returns to normal. You don’t say anything when the shakes turn to muffled sobs. Instead, you move to sit behind him and run a hand over the soft skin of his back until his breath returns to normal.
Neither of you speak about it. Not then, the next morning, or ever again. It just becomes a new part of reality. Anthony Edward Stark doesn’t sleep. Tony has nightmares that can turn into full panic attacks and render him a tremoring mess. Afterwards, he takes a cold shower and returns to bed without a word. Not that you know what to say anyway.
This is somehow harder. To watch him lose control. You were, as most lovers are, impeccably biased. Tony’s life was enviable to anyone with a brain, and yet he was as fractured as anyone.
“Honey, you plan on eating?” he asks, tapping the rim of your porcelain plate with his fork.
You’re brought out of your deep thoughts and back into the present where roasted lemon fills your nostrils from the salmon below. You blame the restaurant–far too quiet to keep from drifting off. The candlelight flickers gently over the small table, creating small dancing shadows of you and Tony on the white linen.
You met his inquisitive brown eyes, giving a small apology before grabbing the cold metal fork. Despite its mouth-watering smell, the taste is anything but. You attempt to hide your displeasure, but such an act is useless this close.
“What’s wrong?” Tony abandons his own meal to question you.
"Nothing, it's just... a little overcooked for my taste," you reply, trying to sound lighthearted. You were never the kind of person to send a meal back, and certainly weren't about to start at a place with a Michelin star.
“Could have sworn you ordered medium.” His posture stiffens, eyebrows raised.
“Simple mistake, it happens.” you shrugged, preparing for a second attempt.
You don’t get the chance, as Tony stands abruptly, grabbing the plate before your fork could make an impression.
“Be right back." he assures you, a cold detachment in his voice.
Without waiting for a response, he strides away from the table, towards the back of the restaurant, leaving you confused.
After a few moments of waiting, a sense of unease begins to gnaw at you. You rise from your seat and, with hesitant steps, vaguely follow the path he took to a set of wide swinging doors. The soft glow of the overhead lights illuminates the narrow hallway, casting long shadows against the walls.
As you approach the kitchen, a waiter hurriedly scurries out, giving you a glimpse of Tony inside, one hand typing away idly at his phone and the other resting on a prep table, wrapped tightly in a blue rag.
Blood stains the pristine white of the chef's uniform, his nose crimson and dripping onto his graying beard as he flips a fresh piece of salmon. He spares you a brief timid glance when the doors swing. One hand dabs poorly at the splotches while the other white-knuckles a metal spatula. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you step cautiously into the kitchen, abandoning the warm lights of the hallway for the fluorescent kitchen overheads.
"Oh, hey there," Tony says casually, an icy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“He’s remaking your salmon.” he explains enthusiastically, returning his attention to his phone.
You stand frozen, watching crimson bleed through the rag. You guessed the chef didn’t take too kindly to criticism, and you know Tony doesn’t take no for an answer.
Maybe you didn’t know what calm looked on Tony after all.
You assume you should be grateful. Grateful that he did as you asked and stopped hiding behind his own layers. You got exactly what you wanted after, Tony, wholly and entirely bare for you to see. No more paranoia that you weren’t enough or that this would all come crashing you both down into murky waters. Well, there was still a chance of that. Only now the waves are crystal clear, revealing everything you begged to see.
At least he got more sleep this way.
You relished in waking up next to him–when it wasn’t from night tremors, of course. You could watch the sun streak through the curtains and glow around his features, calm and peaceful. It’s a moment of absolute solitude you look forward to each night. Listening to nothing but the faint calls of birds and muffled rumblings as the city woke up 93 floors. You bide the time hill wakes by running your fingers along his chest and shoulder, memorizing scars by feeling alone.
This morning you awake too early, daybreak barely starting and an inability to fall back asleep. Quietly, you pull yourself from Tony’s tight embrace and tiptoe your way downstairs for a cup of tea. You forgo bothering with the lights, getting enough light from the shy horizon to make your way around. You open the kitchen fridge in the hopes of finding a lemon, only to jump nearly out of your skin when a sound comes from the island behind you.
“ Christ !” you yelped, slamming the door shut and turning to the source.
Harley laughs and takes another bite of his apple, making the same loud crunch as a moment ago. “Aw, did I scare you?”
“What is with you people and sitting in the damn dark?” you question rhetorically, walking to the end of the kitchen to turn on the lights. You tighten the short silk robe around your pajamas, standing across from him.
“I was trying to surprise the old man for his birthday, which you are ruining, by the way.” he remarks, pointing a wagging finger.
“Tony’s birthday?” you ask, confused. “I didn’t know–”
The young man interrupts with a dismissive wave as he swallows another bite. “He doesn’t like to make a ‘ thing ’ of it, don’t sweat.” He gives complimentary air quotes, sitting back in the barstool.
“Fair enough.” You turn back to the cabinets to complete your original task. Behind you, Harley’s teeth piercing the fruit fills the early morning silence, interrupted by the flicker of the stove as you heat the kettle. You feel him eyeing you the entire time but decide not to feed into this time for your own peace.
“Thanks, by the way.” Hot water is making its way into a lilac mug when he speaks again.
“For, y’know.” he adds when you pivot with a puzzled face.
“No, I don’t know.” you respond exasperatedly, feeling a dig coming your way. You dip the tea bag into the water, stirring as he just stares back at you. You roll your eyes and head towards the stairs, deciding for certain that conversation with that kid was pointless.
“Were you not the one who got him clean?” He waits until your feet touch the first step to say it, forcing you to pivot.
“I’m not taking credit for his life choices.”
“Fair enough.” he mimics your tone from earlier with a gentle shrug.
With that, you leave and retreat back upstairs.
The lukewarm tea slides down your throat with better ease in the bedroom. Tony continues to sleep beside you as the sun greets the sky, until you're drifting off too..
When you rise again, the chaotic rumbling of the city drifts up and through the windows in full force. You stretch out slowly, tuning into the sound of Tony’s voice and staticky music from the bathroom. You flip over to the source, seeing Tony at the sink fixing a slender graphite tie to his neck. Quiet as a mouse and far too comfortable to leave the silk sheets, you simply observe through the open door. Unaware to his spectator, he continues half-singing half-muttering verse after verse of Back in Black . You have to stifle a giggle–not in judgment but in adoration. You didn’t think Tony Stark would belt rock lyrics as he cursed his hair for not blow drying exactly how he wanted.
Eventually, he spots your watchful eyes, after he secures chrome cufflinks and stoops down to straighten his pants. You smile when you realize you're caught.
“Hopefully you’re enjoying the show.” he grins, exiting the bathroom as he loops a thick leather belt around his waist.
“It’s alright, could have better acoustics.” you taunt.
Tony feigns offense as he kneels on the bed beside you. The soft mattress doesn’t make a sound for his weight to settle over top of you. Suddenly beneath him, cypress aftershave and evergreen shampoo drown out your senses. You know he’s not doing this to turn you on, it’s a byproduct of his nature–but now you just want to ruin the hair you watched him spend five minutes perfecting.
“Anyone else would be appreciative to AC/DC , or is that beyond your generation?” Tony asks, bracing an arm beside your head to fiddle with a free strand of hair.
“I worked in a dive bar–think I know dad rock when I hear it.”
“Ouch.” he winces, a short chuckle following after.
“Hey, never said it was bad.” you add, and he gives you a questionable hmm in response.
You’re fixated on the way his body compresses your own–the texture of his thumb on your face.
“Happy birthday, by the way.” you say after a moment of silence. To this he stiffens, his gentle expression changing in the same way.
“Hmm, guess that is today.” he muses.
“I take it you haven’t been downstairs yet, then.” you say, thinking of Harley. Tony groans you curse the loss of his weight as he stands.
“Nope, and I already know the kid’s down there raiding my refrigerator and getting crumbs everywhere.” There’s a strong disdain in his voice, reminding you of the phone call a few weeks ago.
He disappears back to the bathroom, swiping a watch from the granite sink. You stay silent in the airy cloud of sheets, tongue dancing behind your teeth. Clearly, a moment of silence is too telling for Tony. While you're fixated on the ceiling, he creeps back into the room, startling you when he hits the bed once more.
“You want him gone, say the word.” he declares, playfully. You’re barely listening, or really even bothered to think about Harley. It’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the fact that he’s just hovering over you and not crushing you into the mattress or kissing you or –
Your train of thought is derailed when a hand laces behind your neck, fingers settling at your nape and a thumb below your chin. Tony smirks when your eyes flicker to his, increasing the pressure with his thumb until your lips part for air.
“I believe I asked you a question, doll.” He relents for a moment, only enough for your throat to strain as you answer.
“I don’t mind.” you whisper, letting your legs graze his suit pants. There was a small hope the cool fabric would soothe the warmth breaking out on your skin, but the itch just drives you insane.
“Good.” Tony releases his grip to plant a kiss on your forehead. In the next breath, his feet touch the floor again and you contemplate if the lost pride is worth begging him to touch you.
You don’t get a chance to decide, as he gives some short winded promise about returning before the afternoon and exits the bedroom.
After a frustrating shower, and against both Harley and Jarvis’ better judgment (and very stern insistences), you decide to do something nice for Tony’s birthday. Well, as nice as you can without spending his own money.
It takes the better half of the day, and you have to ban a persistently nosy frat kid from the studio the entire time. You feel guilty about not knowing sooner. Then, you maybe would’ve pulled off something more his style. And then maybe like the finished product. It feels, and honestly, looks rushed (because it is), but in the end you feel worse about giving him nothing after all he’s done for you.
It’s a small canvas–easy enough for you to carry down the spiral stairs without breaking an ankle. It’s a quarter to three when you make the final stroke. Once you’ve managed to get the stained ink from your fingers, voices start to flood from downstairs. You manage to do a half-decent job wrapping, which gets you way too excited to gift it. Sure, you’d given art as presents to friends before, but not since you were 10 and those were C-tier cards at best. This wasn’t your best work, though it still gave you the same sense of love.
You call out Tony’s name as you head downstairs, hearing his and Harley’s voices echo from the living room. The muffled words are sharp and tense. You don’t notice the third voice over theirs, or the thud of the feet. You don’t even see her until you enter the space.
“Well, who do we have here, Tone’?” Two rows of perfect porcelain teeth gleam at you over Tony’s shoulder.
He turns to you the moment she speaks, brows tighter than a steel drum and fists tight by his side. Harley stifles his chuckle behind the kitchen island.
Silence pulls new red heat to your cheeks. The living embodiment of every insecurity you’d forgotten stood ten feet away in Louboutin heels. Tony’s stories painted enough of a picture of a flawless woman. Actually seeing her, now that was new territory. Her strawberry blonde locks were meticulously curled, in a mauve dress without a single wrinkle in sight. You felt embarrassed with your undone hair, in stained clothes and matching ink-ridden hands.
You start an equally embarrassing stammer of your name, to which Tony interrupts.
“Nope, not a chance.” He meets your eyes with fire before turning back to Pepper. “How the hell did you get up here–Actually, I don’t even want to know. Leave now.”
Pepper grins like they're old friends catching up. You feel like you shouldn’t be witness to whatever this is, awkwardly holding the canvas.
“Aw, Tony ,” she drags out with a click of her tongue. A slender hand reaches down into a thin leather briefcase, placing an envelope on the island. “Just thought I’d give you your present in person.”
“An email would have sufficed.” He grits.
“Well that wouldn’t be very polite, hm?” She cocks her head like it’s a serious question.
“Exit is directly behind you.”
Some quippy remark brews and dies on her tongue. A small glance is spared your way again, before she leaves.
Tony doesn’t move until the whir of the elevator starts. Harley clears his throat and retreats to the back hallway without another word.
“Tony–” you call out as he passes you for the stairs. He grants you a dismissive wave that cuts you short and swells your throat. All but stomping he makes his way up the stairs, leaving you alone with all the tension they left behind.
The white envelope goes unattended. Tony didn’t bother with it, but you do. Setting your gift against the stair railing, you tiptoe over to it. It’s unsealed–a solitary white letter tucked away. The ornate New York State emblem is a pale distraction for the words below.
ᴜɴᴄᴏɴᴛᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅɪᴠᴏʀᴄᴇ
An agreement for complete dissolution separation of any and all assets for both parties.
Signed by Pepper Potts in midnight ink.
#tony stark#mcu fanfiction#tony stark x reader#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark smut#marvel fanfiction#seikkoiwrites
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°•*⁀➷ DRINKING NIGHT: AKAINU
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "You always had a terrible excuse to convince Akainu to go drinking with you after work... The funny thing is that it always worked."
꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : NSFW!! SMUT!! CONTENT+18 AHEAD!! MINORS DNI!! Neutral reader, neutral pronouns, unspecified genitalia, mentions of getting drunk, drunk sex, public sex (without getting caught), casual relationships, unestablished relationship , canonical universe
꒰ WC ꒱ : 761
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : This is one of the fanfics I wrote before the hiatus, it's also one of the ones I decided to save, because I really liked it, so enjoy
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"Hey, I got promoted, let's drink and celebrate" was just a random phrase you said through the den den mushi, but even though it was an innocent phrase, Akainu could see right through your intentions.
"No, I'm busy" you always called him with some excuse to go out together and get drunk.
"Seriously, I'm a Vice Admiral now, you should congratulate me!" You would argue with that one irritated tone, he would always deny going and you would always get mad about it.
"No, you should take advantage of your promotion and go work, instead of drunking yourself until you pass out" he scolds you, although from his tone of voice it was clear that there was no real threat. You knew that try as he might, the Admiral was extremely weak to you.
"What's the matter? Scared of losing a bet and having to pay the bill?" You smirked, he could hear that through the call, you always teased and he always ignored it... It was strange to consider that you were still alive even though you were so insubordinate.
"No, you always lose bets, I'm not the one who passes out after the fifth glass… Besides, I'm your boss now, that wouldn't be appropriate" He spoke, but still didn't hang up. To hear your voice more? To have a little more of your presence? Any reason would be valid, but he would deny it to death.
"Hah… Appropriate? I don't think what we do is very appropriate… Yet you never seemed to care" There was that venomous tone that made him stop what he was doing and take a deep breath so he wouldn't lose control. "Come on… Zuki, don't you like it when we play?"
"I'll hang up" he threatened.
"Hmmm… You don't like to see me in these cute casual clothes? No ugly, closed-off uniforms" you said sassy and teasing, like a demon seducing a prey "Don't you like to see me getting all silly and red in the face? Don't you like it when I get needy clinging to you?"
"You're crazy" he cursed himself mentally.
"Come on… Admiral" you said mockingly "You always complain about drinking with me… But when we're in a random alley, me on my knees swallowing your cock whole while you grab my hair… Oh… You don't seem to think that bad" he could almost hear his smirk.
"Vice Admiral y/n…"
"C'mon… C'mon Zuki… I love when we go out drinking, when you cut me open like a slut in the middle of a deserted street, fuck me until my legs are shaking and cum deep inside" you moaned at the end of the sentence "I love it when you treat me like your personal whore… Please? As a reward for getting promoted?"
Akainu didn't say anything, his hand had already let go of the pen and was now closed in a firm fist. His breathing was a little more labored and he felt his member getting firm. He could imagine exactly the scene that you were describing.
After all, that's what happened every time you went out drinking, you talked, drank, ate. So when you were already crazy he decided to take you home, not trusting you walking around alone, it was exactly in that brief moment of fragility that you attacked.
You would pull it to an empty spot, kneel on the floor and open its mouth by sticking out its tongue. A silent request he always complied with, he knew you liked it when he fucked your mouth, making you gasp and roll your eyes for oxygen, when he gripped your hair so hard it would give you a headache.
You were always touching yourself, so close to the ground looking like a real bitch. Then after you made him come you would prance around showing your needy hole, begging him to finish the job… Oh, and how could he refuse? He loved how you were smaller than him, how he had total dominance when you guys fucked, how he could feel the bulge that formed in your stomach with every stroke he landed.
He loved leaving purple marks on your legs where he held you, or even on your neck and when he choked you, how you kept crying and begging him to keep fucking you orgasm after orgasm. You were only able to be satisfied when he came deep inside you, making you feel completely full.
"Zuki?"
"Meet me at the bar at nine"
Yeah… Akainu could be a man with only one weakness… You.
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#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x you#onepiece#anime imagines#one piece imagine#imagines#anime and manga#one piece smut#akainu x reader#akainu sakazuki#one piece akainu#akainu smut#akainu
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maniac ♡ e.w. oneshot
✄ - - - - inspo track - - - - maniac
synopsis: lies are spewed and truths are revealed when a precarious friend group joins together once more on the 1 year anniversary of their estranged friends disappearance.
| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.4k
| ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns but other than that all descriptors are gender neutral, heavy violence blood and gore, oc deaths, drug use, homophobia (use of the word "dyke" once. i'm a lesbian so don't y'all try to cancel me), heavy language, mentions of reader having anxiety and panic attacks, lots of tension and fighting, ⭑ SMUT ⭑ ... thigh riding (r on e), dom!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby, angel, etc.)
a/n: hi lovelies!! long time no see... i know this is a little different from my usual stuff but i honestly really love how it turned out. i spent a good chunk of time planning this out and then even longer writing it so i really hope y'all love it! i want this to be a fresh and exciting read for everyone. if you do end up enjoying the fic, any kind of note is greatly appreciated! ur fave tumblr writers thrive off all y'alls support! anyways, love love love you guys!!! ♡~ lola
To everyone else, it was a summer like any other. But when it came to you and your friends there was something missing this time– someone missing. This absence felt extra heavy as tomorrow would be the 1 year anniversary of August’s disappearance, and the annual camping trip was right on time with it. It had been tradition for as long as you could remember, but its memory was now tainted and left something that used to be so sure, completely up in the air…
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
The five of you squeezed into the small 4 person booth at your favorite local diner; Tj’s Eats. In one seat sat Lottie and Reid. The girl’s loose, dark curls gathered at the boy's shoulders as she snuggled into him, still clearly in the honeymoon stage of their relationship. On the other side of the white marbled table sat Xavier and Ellie, with you perched on her lap, of course, as she insisted to everyone that it was “necessity” and “there really, really was no more room”. In all actuality, all it took was an extra chair to fit the five, but she was your girlfriend, and even after years of dating you still couldn’t get enough of each other.
“Can someone just say what we’re all thinking, please! I can’t with this tension,” Lottie complained, finally snapping out of the cuddle fest with her red-headed boyfriend.
“What are we all thinking Lottie, huh? Since you know everything,” Xavier retaliated, guising his irritation with a poorly crafted remark.
“Don’t be fucking mean,” she said, kicking him under the table.
“Yeah seriously chill out,” Reid echoed.
“God, enough with this shit, you guys are driving me insane!” Ellie butted in. You, however, paid no mind to this type of bullshit, as fights like this had become a frequent occurrence in your group of friends ever since that godforsaken night. So you continued to down your chocolate shake and drown out the bickering with a light hum. That is, until you were rudely interrupted by Xavier’s insulting words.
“You’re being real fucking quiet over there, Y/n. Do you really have nothing to say? You can’t just tune us out forever. We’re your fucking friends.”
You felt your hands balled into tight fists, “Fine. You want me to say something? I’ll say something–my brother is still missing and if you’re even thinking of going on that stupid fucking trip this year, you can count me out.”
“Not going on that trip isn’t gonna magically bring him back. August is gone and we can’t stop living our lives because of it,” he retorted, going just a tad bit too far. This was the last straw and quickly sent you up and out of your warm place in Ellie’s lap. She grasped at your wrist trying to pull you back into this mess of a friend group, but to no avail.
“Now look what you’ve fucking done!” Ellie yelled at your defense as you disappeared into the bathroom.
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
Now face-to-face with your tear-stained cheeks in the mirror, your head fell down between your shoulders, slowly letting the pent up emotions roll off your back. Ever since you lost August, life had become 10 times harder. As much as your younger self would’ve hated to admit it, he was your rock–your annoying brother–but still, your rock. This confession made you feel even worse though, because deep down, there was a part of you that blamed yourself for how things happened. Maybe if you would’ve stopped fighting, or told the truth to the police, or took it easier on the booze and coke that night, August would still be here. There was nothing you could do now though. This was your reality and you had to accept it.
With that you reached into the pocket of Ellie’s varsity jacket that engulfed your figure, hoping to find a tissue to blot away your tears and smeared mascara. Instead, you were met with a small polaroid. You flipped it over to reveal a bewildering picture of Xavier and August from the last night he was seen. Their arms were swung around each other’s necks, both flashing toothy smiles at the camera and you could recall being the one to take this photo. The one thing you didn’t remember is the black sharpie captioning the bottom of the image. It read “don’t believe his lies”. Your head began to race with countless questions and zero answers. The biggest one being, what the fuck was Xavier lying about?
The wet bathroom countertop dug into the palms of your hands as you took a second to decide the best course of action, but all you could come up with was shutting the fuck up and pretending it never happened. You weren’t ready to relive last year all over again. Not yet–not ever. So you paraded back into the dining room, eyes still damp and hands still shaking. Ellie felt your energy immediately and knew it was time to go.
She glanced at you for confirmation and then turned to address the group, “I think it’s time for me and Y/N to head out. Sorry guys.” Xavier shot a look of discontent and Ellie mouthed something along the lines of “I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her I promise”, which seemed to slightly ease the tension he was previously carrying in his shoulders. She then slid out from the booth, slipped her left hand into the pocket of your denim shorts, and ushered you outside to her red convertible.
The drive back was silent but as Ellie’s hand gently stroked the flesh of your thighs and the other steered you knew there was no way she could have anything to do with that polaroid. But you had to find out who did. Just as you were nearing your house though, Ellie’s gentle touch quickly shifted to a handsier approach and it was clear she had other plans for the night.
“Els?” is all you had to say before she quickly pulled over and jumped to the backseat, pulling you along with her. She positioned herself in the middle seat opening up her legs in a dominating stance resembling a manspread. You eagerly climbed atop her lap, placing soft kisses up her veiny neck and extending them to her defining jawline. This was just what you needed to release the tension that had racked up from tonight's events. The moon was hitting your face just right and Ellie felt so lucky to have you in that moment.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful” she murmured, slightly breathless from the overwhelming touch of your lips. You smiled against the crook of her neck and dove into the girl's mouth for a deep and passionate kiss. She returned the exchange with even more fire, graciously slipping her tongue into your entrance. With each second things got messier and your hips got looser, slowly grinding into Ellie’s denim clad thighs. She couldn’t help but chuckle just a little at your desperation, to which you buried your head back into her shoulder, encasing her in your arms for better traction. Ellie’s hands swiftly found the curves of your hips and rocked them back forth to aid you in your journey towards climax. That is until your anxiety got the best of you at the sound of rustling coming from outside the car.
“Ellie?”
“What does it not feel good?” she questioned.
“No, no– It’s just… I swear I just heard something coming from behind the car.”
“I mean… we are parked by the woods. It’s probably just some animal or the wind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes babe, I’m sure.” she assured you with a firm squeeze to your thigh and you let your worries go. This time Ellie was on top, laying you down across the seats to hover over you alluringly. Your lips found hers once again as she slipped a hand down your shorts and past your panties to meet the slick that had been piling up the whole drive. You let out a strangled moan into Ellie’s mouth as her rough digits met the throbbing bud of nerves. She took that as a sign to speed up the pace and slip in a curved finger to hit that perfect spot. You jerked in pleasure, eyes closed, almost reaching your climax from just those few movements. Ellie felt as your walls tightened around her and knew you were close.
“Look at me baby. I wanna see your eye’s when you cum all over my fingers.” she cooed. You obeyed and parted your lids open to reveal a disturbing image followed by a frightened scream escaping your puffy lips. Ellie jumped back at the clearly non-orgasmic exclamation, letting out a string of concerned “what? What??”’s. All you could do is point your shaky hand towards the message written in the condensation of the back windshield.
“I know about last summer…” Ellie read out, voice as shaky as your extremities. Both of your fight or flight responses were triggered; you choosing flight and her of course choosing fight. The door to the cherry red car flung open and Ellie climbed over and out of her seat to trail the perimeter. You cowered down, eye’s filled with tears as Ellie recklessly yelled out to whoever wrote the message.
“Hello? Anybody out there?”, she kicked at the rocks in frustration, “Seriously who the fuck are you? This isnt fucking funny!”
“Ellie, will you please just get back in the car? They’re gone!” you pleaded. She eventually returned from her fit and came to console you. You were a mess and you were scared.
“Hey, hey, it’s probably some prank. Let’s just take a breath, babe. In and out. Nice and slow.” she coached and you followed.
“But- what if it’s not though… what if this isn’t the first time something like this has happened…”
“Wha-what do you mean?” she asked.
You pulled out the polaroid and handed it to Ellie, “I- I found this in your jacket.”
“Y/n I swear I didn't put that there. I have no idea where it came from. Please, please believe me.”
“I do, I do. But that means someone else put it there, and they probably wrote that message too.”
Her head fell into her hands as she let out a sigh, “Fuck. We’re so fucked.”
“So what do we do?”
“We go on that camping trip and keep our mouths shut till we know more.”
“Seriously? What is camping gonna help? I already said I’m not going!” you yelled.
“Like hell you are! You’re insane if you think staying in the same town with the psycho freak who's borderline blackmailing us is gonna solve shit! If we’re in the woods they can’t get to us.” Ellie argued, face turning red with insistence.
“Fuck. I guess you’re kinda right. I’ll go.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you sleep over tonight though? I’m scared Els. I don’t even wanna think about being alone after tonight.”
She gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Of course I’ll stay the night. We’re in this together, okay?”
“Okay.”
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
The next morning Reid came barreling over in his beat up white van. He haphazardly whipped into the driveway of your two story home that looked straight out of suburbia. Ellie stood at the top of the concrete hill holding your pink duffle and her navy blue one on the dip of her shoulder. Xavier swung open the sliding door and the both of you climbed in as you were practically slapped in the face with the smell of old bong water and way too many Little Trees air fresheners that somehow made the smell worse.
“Fuckk Reid, you’ve gotta get rid of this kidnapper van.” Ellie remarked, holding her nose and pretending to gag a couple times.
“Fuck off Ellie, you should be thanking me for driving you bums around.”
She just rolled her eyes, “Righttt… Right…”
The van quickly took to the road again, heading straight for the forest where it all happened just 1 year ago.
“It’s too quiet in here. Can we please put on some music?” Lottie asked about 30 minutes into the drive.
“Yeah sure. I have a few tapes in the console right there if you wanna put one in.” Reid gestured to the compartment on the passenger side and Lottie reached in, pulling out the first tape she could find. It was in a small plastic case with no writing or cover to indicate what it was, but it sparked an intrigue, so she popped it into the car's sound system anyways. To Lottie and everyone else’s surprise, music didn’t start playing. All that came through the speakers was a muffled recording of two voices arguing.
“Shut the fuck up August you’re just jealous!”
“You’re gonna regret this Reid.”
“Are you threatening me right now?”
“You’re the one who-”
Before the tape could finish Reid ripped it out of the player, slamming it into the dashboard and destroying the possible evidence.
“How the fuck did you get this Lottie?! Where’d you find this, seriously?” he screamed as his frantic girlfriend tried to explain.
“It was just in the console I swear!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me! I’ve never seen that tape, let alone put it in my car!”
Tears welled in her eyes, “I’m not lying Reid!”
The bickering continued as you, Ellie, and Xavier sat in the back, jaws dropped in utter shock. You felt yourself shutting down at this new found information. Did Reid have something to do with August disappearing? What were they even fighting about? Suddenly breathing felt impossible and the world went silent as panic set it. You only snapped back to Earth when you heard the sound of Ellie screaming.
“FUCK REID LOOK OUT!” It was too late though and the thud of a full size deer flipping over the hood is what finally shut everyone up.
“Oh my god…” you shuddered at the smear of thick crimson blood across the dirty windshield. It didn’t matter if it was an animal, Reid had just taken a life and you were basically an accomplice. Your heart broke and the pit of your stomach swirled with sickness thinking of the likely decapitated body splattered just behind the van. Ellie wrapped you in her arms, as if to shield you from the horror of not only the poor deer, but the realization that any one of your friends could be the reason your brother was missing.
Xavier finally broke the jarring lull in speech, “I- I think we should take a pit stop.”
“Yeah…” Ellie agreed.
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
A few miles down the road was a small gas station where Reid pulled over for everyone to recollect themselves. Lottie scrubbed mindlessly at the deer carnage with the murky gas station water and squeegee she found beside the gas pump. Xavier paced in the parking lot like he was off one but it was the pure anxiety and adrenaline that had him tweaking so much. Reid on the other hand was still stuck at the wheel, slouching in the driver's seat, and not making a single move since he put the van into park. Even his deep green eyes remained motionless, they seemed to be locked onto absolutely nothing, just staring into the void. Everyone was a fucking mess. The only people who seemed to be somewhat on this planet still were you and Ellie.
“I think I might gouge my eye’s out if I don’t eat some Swedish Fish and drink a Yerb as soon as possible.” you professed, walking inside the little convenience store with a ring of a bell.
“I think I need a fucking cigarette.” Ellie said in a joking tone, but candidly, these past few days had her seriously considering picking the old habit back up.
“I think everybody does. I’m tired of shit like this happening and then everyone shoving it under the rug cause we’re all still ashamed about last year. I mean, I know I am, but we have to talk about it eventually.”
“You’re right, but even if we did, what is there to say? We were all so fucked up the whole night’s just a blurry mess. Like, did you see Reid's face when that tape came on? It looked like he was hearing the conversation for the first time just like the rest of us.”
“This sucks Ellie” you groaned as you opened up the glass door to retrieve your drink. Ellie approached from behind, slithering her hands from your sides to your naval and giving you a squeeze.
She planted a soft kiss to the top of your head, “This does suck, but I love you and we’re gonna be alright. You gonna be okay for the rest of the drive?” She flipped you around to face her and you gave an assuring nod in response. Ellie always knew just what to say to ease that panicky feeling that was constantly bubbling up in your chest. The girl then took your hand and led you to the counter where a gruff looking cashier checked you out. He slowly scanned each item at an agonizing pace; Hot fries, Swedish Fish, a Yerba Mate, Chex Mix, and a Fanta Orange.
“Total is $13.78” he mumbled as Ellie swiped her card and you gathered up the snacks. The clerk's eyes seemed to get meaner and meaner each second you waited for your receipt– until he finally cracked. “You know you’re going to hell for what you did.”
Ellie backed away, “Excuse me?” Had he overheard something? Did he know about August? Who the fuck was this guy?
“I don’t need any dykes shoving their sins all in my face in my own damn store!” he grunted. Oh, he’s just homophobic. Right. That was y’alls que to get back on the road and out of the middle of nowhere immediately.
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
After an excruciatingly mute hour stuck in the “kidnapper van” you finally arrived at the forest where you’d be spending the night. The silence looked to have eased some of the tension though as conversation grew a little more lax around the campfire.
“Yo Lottie do you have the bud? We should roll up.” Xavier suggested. You nodded fervently in agreement, a joint was exactly what you needed. Lottie seemed to have made up with Reid as she was hanging all over him not hearing a word Xavier said.
With a few calls of her name she finally looked up, “Huh?”
“The weed Lottie.” Ellie said.
“Yeah it’s in a little pouch in my tent if someone wants to grab it.” Xavier got up from his spot on a mossy log and ventured into the purple tent hitched by a tree. In just 30 seconds flat he came storming back out, face completely red and a beaded bracelet dangling from his right fist.
“What the fuck is this Lottie!? How do you have this?”
She pulled back from her steamy kiss with Reid to answer, “Oh my god what Xavier? You’re being sooo goddamn annoying today.”
“Could you maybe stop grinding on your boyfriend for 5 fucking seconds and look at what I found in your bag?!” he yelled back. After a closer look the small beads began to look eerily familiar. This wasn’t just any bracelet, this was August’s bracelet. The one he had on the last night he was seen, and all of the sudden Lottie’s loud mouth seemed to shut right up.
“I- I- Xavier believe me I didn’t put that there.”
His voice broke with pain and fury, “Oh really?? Then who did ‘Miss innocent’?”
“I don’t fucking know but it wasn’t me!”
“Fuck you!” he screamed, dashing off into the dark woods. Everyone tried to yell at him to come back but it was no use. He was too angry to listen to anyone but himself.
That being said, hypervigilant Reid stood up to follow, “I’m gonna go find him guys. He shouldn’t be out there alone. Not after…” His voice trailed off but everyone knew exactly what he was alluding to.
“I really didn’t put that there you know” Lottie said.
You and Ellie shared a glance, “We know.”
A puzzled look spread across her face, “what do you mean you know?”
“We think someone’s orchestrating all this,” Ellie said.
“Like blackmail?”
You nodded, “exactly like blackmail. It’s happened to me and Ellie too. Once with a lost polaroid photo and another time with a message written on her car.” You then pulled out the photo to show to Lottie.
She read it aloud, “Don’t believe his lies? Like… Xavier?” Ellie twiddled with her fingers, looking down at the dirt before saying what you and Lottie were both thinking.
“I mean, I don’t want to point fingers because this is a fucked up situation, but how have we all been framed except him?”
Lottie smoothed back the sweaty bangs stuck to her temples, “Fuckkkk. He probably had the bracelet from the start too, he seemed sooo damn eager to go dig through my shit.”
“So, what do we do?” you asked.
Xavier suddenly appeared out of thin air, “What do we do about what?” Lottie practically jumped out of her spot.
“Fuck Xavier you scared me. Wait… Wh- where’s Reid?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he left to look for you.”
“I never saw him.”
Lottie began to scream and call for her missing boyfriend and without a second thought went straight for the forest like an idiot.
“Lottie fuck come back!” Ellie yelled out. It wasn’t long before she was running right back to you though. A blood curdling scream dampening any sounds of nature and sending a parade of chills up everyone’s backs.
“IT’S REID Y/N! IT’S REID! HE- HE- HE’S DEAD!” Lottie collapsed into your arms dry heaving from the overwhelming amount of tears, pain, and betrayal. “IT WAS YOU! IT WAS FUCKING YOU XAVIER!” You and Ellie worked to hold her back as he denied every claim.
“Lottie you’re acting fucking crazy! I didn’t do shit!”
“Even if you didn’t, you're not helping! But to me, it looks like you have guilty written all over you!” Ellie spat back.
“Fuck you guys! This isn’t fucking funny! I didn’t do it! Please, is this some kind of-” His words were cut short along with his head by the swing of a large machete right through his neck, sending a spray of fresh blood into the air and across your face. It took a solid 15 seconds before any of you could even let out a scream, but when you did, it was pure terror.
“RUN! JUST RUN!” you yelled. Ellie grabbed your wrist in one hand and Lottie’s in the other, sprinting away with little discretion. A hooded figure trailed close behind, dirt and rocks flying into the air upon each kick of their sneakers. Air caught in your lungs with no release, all you could do was put one foot in front of the other which was a struggle in itself.
Lottie got brave though and took one single look behind her following immediate regret. A rock caught her pink converse just right, throwing her across the dirty ground and setting her feet back from the rest. And as this hooded figure caught up, the moon casting its light through the trees and across his face, it all began to make sense.
Lottie struggled backwards through the dirt with a scream, “IT’S AUGUST! IT’S FUCKING AUGUST!” Ellie halted in an attempt to pull the fallen girl back up and running but she was frozen in disbelief, in horror, in complete and utter fear. There was no choice but to leave her there and as the both of you turned to run, all you needed to hear was her earth shattering shriek to know exactly what happened.
Tears streamed down your face, “Els, Ellie I- I can’t.”
“Yes you can. Just keep running baby please.” And you did for another couple feet until fate had other plans. A hunting trap violently swept you up into a tree, encasing you in a thick net.
“ELLIE HELP!” you screamed. She pulled and pulled at the rope creating lacerations across her palms and fingers but to no avail.
“Do you trust me Y/n?”
Through tears and strings of snot you shook your head, “Yes Ellie, I trust you.” Your girlfriend then took off, leaving you dangling in the air with no protection. It was just you and August now. And with a single swipe of his weapon you tumbled to the ground, twisting your ankle at the fall.
He gave a sinister smile, “hello sister.” You scrambled in the opposite direction, hands grasping at the soil below but never getting far with your limp foot.
“August please. You don’t have to do this. It’s me! It’s Y/n!”
“STOP IT! You’re not gonna change my mind about this. I’ve waited long enough!” Your heart beats from your chest. What the fuck were you going to do to survive this?
“We’re fucking family August! I’m your sister. You’re my little brother!”
“‘Family’, ‘little brother’,” he mocked, “you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Wha- what do you mean?”
“I’m not living in your shadow anymore Y/n. I’m done being the sidekick to you and all of your stupid friends!”
“They’re your friends too!”
He began inching closer and closer, “No they fucking aren’t! Friends don’t do what you guys did to me. Lying to the police, seriously? Acting like you had no idea what happened? I disappeared and none of you even gave a fuck till the cops started asking questions!”
“That’s not true August,” you broke down into tears once more, “I missed you every fucking day!”
“Clearly not enough.” He slowly lifted his arms, gripping the bloody machete with both hands. There was no escaping at this point. You just clenched your eye’s shut and braced for the end.
“NOOO!” The sound of a gunshot rang through your ears and instead of the feeling of cold metal slicing through you, you were met with the warm embrace of your girlfriend. You broke.
“Ellie. Oh my god Ellie.”
“I’m right here baby. Never leaving. I promise.” She just held you and held you, rocking back and forth till your breaths got less shaky.
“H-How?”
“A cabin. I found an empty cabin with a shotgun hanging right on the wall.”
“God, I love you.” Ellie smoothed back your hair and gave you a kiss.
“I love you too, angel.”
✄ - - - - ♡ - - - -
After that night things were never the same. It was just you and Ellie now. But together you would heal. Somehow, despite all the pain and loss, there was a glimmer of hope. Deep down you both knew things would be okay. And they were.
✄ - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡
taglist...
@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy
(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)
#wlw#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie smut#ellie tlou#ellie williams fan fiction#ellie williams series#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#callmelola111#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie williams tlou#tlou#the last of us#tlou 2#tlou 2 smut#tlou fanfiction#tlou2#tlou ellie#the last of us 2#tlou series#the last of us ellie
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There’s this huge roided guy at my gym and he’s kinda my crush. Do you think you could turn me into a super roided guy like him to be his boyfriend or husband?
Let me check that… Your crush may not look like this… But he's into the "muscle daddy" type. Let's see what we can do about that…
As you enter the gym, your gaze falls into a mirror. You are neither tall, nor muscular, nor a daddy. You are an athletic blond college boy… God knows it's not bad. But you don't stand a chance with your crush. However, that has already changed when you step out of the changing room onto the training floor. You've spent the last three years training for all you're worth using all the chemical aids available. And it shows. Some of the bigger boys here give you a respectful nod. Your crush continues to ignore you.
You're lifting more than you've ever lifted before. Your moans boom like thunder through the gym. A muscleman who doesn't even know your name assists you. Your hair gets darker and darker. Your beard shadow is pitch black. Your crush continues to ignore you.
You need a protein shake. You've been training hard for an hour. Your T-shirt is lying in tatters somewhere in the corner. It's actually against the house rules to train bare-chested. But you're so tall that there's nothing in your size in the gym store. The first gray hairs are showing in your neatly trimmed beard and at your temples. That's nothing special. In your family, most men were gray by the age of 50. The hunk behind the counter hands you the shake with a fist bump. Your crush continues to ignore you.
You must be getting to the end of your training. It's almost time for sunset prayers. Normally you don't take it too seriously. But on a Friday… You take a look in the mirror. You actually like yourself better with fur on your chest. But you're in competition form. Tomorrow you'll be on stage. The absolute favorite in your age group. So it's a good thing that you went to the full-body epilation yesterday after the hammam. You're paying double the price. Because you simply have a lot more skin that needs to be freed of hair. Your crush… Your crush tries to make eye contact with you.
You look at the weakling a little pitifully. You don't like men whose necks aren't at least twice as wide as their heads. But the weakling has some pretty good beginnings. And let's not kid ourselves. He's still a lot more muscular than most of the other guys here. Your crush asks what you plan to do after training. You're not a man of big words. You head towards the changing rooms. And with a slight movement of your head, you gesture for him to follow you. You don't need to turn around. He follows you like a dog follows its master.
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you asked for hard thots and i can’t shake the absolute cesspit of brainrot that is vernon as your long-term-best-friend who is also your “platonic”-but-why-is-this-so-intense-why-is-he-looking-at-me-like-that date to a family wedding, in your hotel room afterwards and roasting your choice in pyjamas b4 ploughing you into the mattress😔✌🏻
anon u are so sexy for this ask ilysm <333 please tho I am EATING THIS UP, sorry it took me some time (uh oh this is NOT a drabble) but I hope you enjoy it, my dear!!! (i don't know if I did a great job making it super intense as it's a bit more lighthearted, but nonetheless, I hope it hits the mark!)
warnings: smut (minors DNI i will bite and block), some plot at the beginning, mutual pining, teasing, fem! reader but no pronouns, unprotected sex, cunnilingus (female receiving), let me know if i'm missing anything
w/c: ~2.5k
"When does it end," you groan, finally peeling off those pesky heels that you've somehow managed to wear the whole wedding and falling back into the comfort of the springy hotel mattress. You're immediately curling into a little ball, hands massaging the aching balls of your feet. "This is like the millionth wedding we've been to this year."
Vernon watches you amusedly, removing his own suit jacket and discarding it onto the decorative armchair. Snorting, Vernon states the obvious, "a million weddings in one year would be impossible, Y/N."
"No shit, Sherlock," you laugh, rolling your eyes as you sit back up, already feeling your eyes falling heavy after the night you've had entertaining your family's antics. "Thanks for saving me yet again though. It's nice having a friend at these things, makes the time go by a lot faster."
A dejected sigh from Vernon goes unnoticed as you spring back up to your feet and walk to the bathroom, PJs crumpled in hand whilst you continue to ramble and rant about your family.
"But seriously, how many weddings can my family have in one year? Also, why are they so convinced we're together? I don't know how many times I have to reiterate that you are my best friend to them? They've known you for like how many years now?"
You can hear Vernon humming in agreement as you unzip your dress in the safety of the bathroom, a soft shuffling sound in the other room indicating that he is rooting through his own suitcase. You hope he doesn't hear the wavering of your voice as you mention the word 'best friend' yet again.
Admittedly, it's been slowly becoming harder to read Vernon these past few months, even though he's been your friend for as many years as you can count on two hands and then some. You had invited him to be your plus one to one of the many weddings you had to attend this year a few months ago, and ever since then you've been quelling thoughts of 'what if?'
Vernon has to suppress another snort when you emerge from the bathroom, the sudden reappearance of you in your tattered, old pajamas has him smiling crookedly in amusement.
"I'm sorry, but what are those?"
"What are what?" You look like a deer in headlights, hands dropping to your sides before taking in fistfuls of your pajama bottoms that should have been retired a long time ago. "Are you making fun of my pajamas?"
Vernon's laugh and smile are enough to make your heart feel like it's about to pound its way out of your chest, your own awkward chuckle combining with his as he approaches you.
"Y/N," he sighs, shaking his head with that ridiculous smile of his still adorning his features, eyes twinkling as he makes you spin for him. "These are ridiculous, how old are these pajamas?"
You shrug, still fisting the extremely soft material as you ponder jokingly about his question. "Maybe like 10 years. What? Do you not find Hello Kitty pajama bottoms cute?"
Vernon and you hold eye contact for a second longer until you are both bursting out into laughter.
"Cute," he ponders adoringly, pinching your arm before heading to the bathroom to change into his own pajamas. "Sure thing."
The interaction has your cheeks burning, noting the way Vernon seems to drink you in before going to change, soft eyes observing you in adoration briefly.
Yet again, you're quick to shake yourself out of it, shuffling into the hotel bed and cuddling with the heavy covers. Still, you're left to your own thoughts.
Why does he keep looking at you like that? It's that same stupid, endearing look in his eyes that seem to soften every time you come into view. It's the kind of look that makes your heart beat a little too fast for your liking. It's that kind of look that has you returning to those 'what if' thoughts.
Vernon is soon joining you in the bed, slipping under the sheets comfortably and shimmying in closer to you, utilizing your body heat as a source of warmth.
You've shared a bed with Vernon many times before, during sleepovers when you were children all the way to accompanying you in bed to make sure you were okay after a night of heavy drinking.
However, you swear with each wedding that you grow uneasier being this close in proximity to him. You are no longer able to avoid the ebbing feeling of butterflies fluttering in your lower stomach.
Vernon hums contently to himself as he relaxes deeper into the sheets and turns to face you. The soft sound of his breathing has goosebumps running down the back of your neck and you don't think you can bear to look at him, so you opt to flip around onto your side and face away from him.
You can practically feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of your head, your hair burning and ears tingling knowing that he is staring at you. It's making you feel restless, so you turn around with a hmph to face him once again.
"What," you whisper harshly, even though it's just you two in this dark, hotel room. The only bit of light is the soft, blue flickering light of the TV that Vernon refuses to turn off. "Why do you keep staring at me? You did it earlier when you picked me up for the wedding, on the dance floor, and even when I changed into my pajamas. You've been doing that too much lately."
He seems a bit guilty, jaw falling slack as his eyes become saucer-like, yet there is still a palpable tension in his stare. "What do you mean? I'm just looking at you."
"Like that!? Who looks at someone like that!" You exclaim, one hand escaping from underneath the covers to motion to his face, the other arm now propping you up to get a better look at him.
Vernon seems to be deep in thought for a second, thick eyebrows bunching up as he takes note of your frazzled demeanor. He also takes note of the undeniable blush that can still be seen even in the dim lighting.
"Y-you-" you're stuttering idiotically at this point, tripping over your words as he continues to stare intently at you.
"Does it make you uncomfortable?" His voice is soft and raspy. It shuts you up for a second as you blink stupidly down at his painfully handsome bare face.
You're falling face first into your pillow, groaning loudly and shoving your face deeper into the plush fabric to escape the prison that his gaze has you in.
"No," you mumble loudly into the pillow. "It doesn't. I just feel weird."
He's laughing and it has you smiling like a fool into the pillow. There go those darn butterflies in your stomach again. "It makes you feel weird?"
You sit back up, this time crossing your legs and readjusting so you're not laying next to him. He's way too calm and cool for your liking, not liking the way his lips fall into a lopsided smile as he watches you adjust yourself.
"I don't know, Vernon. I don't know what I feel when you stare at me like that."
"Do you like it?" He's still unserious, but his voice is teetering between what seems like amusement and hopefulness. Your hands are subconsciously playing with the tattered hem of your pajama bottoms, and the habitual motion is enough for Vernon to grasp your hand with his.
"Maybe."
One heartbeat.
Another heartbeat.
Oh god, your ears are pounding from the way he's looking at you.
Vernon is tugging on your hand and pulling you into him, soft lips colliding with yours and knocking the wind out of you.
"Do you like this," he pulls away for a second, seeming just as breathless as you.
"Yes, I do."
"Cool," it's such a Vernon response, but in this case it's almost dizzying. With that, he's pulling you back in, lips hungrily reconnecting with yours, and both of his hands are coming up to cup your face to help guide you as he licks into your mouth.
The kiss is just as intense as his stare, almost as if Vernon is channeling all that pent-up energy into the delicate care and passion encapsulated by his lips on yours.
You feel as if you could overheat when his hands travel from your jaw all the way down to your hips, playing with the waistband of your pajamas. He grabs hold of your hips and flips you onto your back, never once disconnecting from you as he nibbles and suckles on your bottom lip.
"These," he finally breaks away, eyes roaming wildly over your features, and snapping the waistband of your bottoms against your skin. "These ridiculous things have to go."
"Please," you mewl, eyes screwed shut in need as his fingertips continue to tease at your hipbones. "Take them off, Vernon."
He's chuckling, but this time it's almost teasing, the sound making arousal burn at your core when he begins to tug at your bottoms. Your hips buck upwards to help him slip the slinky material off your body, ultimately turning Vernon's chuckle into a pained groan upon being greeted by your dripping pussy.
"Y/N," he mumbles softly, hands running up and down your thighs after discarding your bottoms. "Can I please?"
"Can you please what?" You know what he's asking, but seeing him look so desperate between your legs has you wanting to hear it directly.
"Can I taste you?"
You're nodding profusely, yelping in pleasure when he dives down between your legs, rough hands wrapping around both your thighs to keep you still as his wet tongue comes in contact with your throbbing clit.
"Fuck," you're immediately panting, his tongue working quickly as it runs firm circles around your clit. Vernon is staring up at you from between your thighs, thick eyebrows raised and dark, hungry eyes catching yours once again. "F-fuck, Vernon, you're giving me that look again."
This time he raises one brow, tongue running down your pussy and plunging teasingly into your sopping cunt. "What look?" He mumbles into your core, "taste so good, Y/N."
At this point, the warmth and pressure of his tongue has you reeling, the burning pit of arousal in your lower stomach heightening as he continues to messily eat you out. You're soon pushed over the edge, walls pulsing as Vernon continues to work his tongue from your little hole to your clit.
You're fisting a handful of his hair, feeling overstimulated way too fast after your first release, and pulling him back up. He's quick to engulf you in another kiss, the flavor of your lips and juices like ecstasy on his tongue.
He's shuffling out of his own pajama bottoms as you plea between fleeting kisses, begging to have him fill you. Vernon's innocence resurfaces for a minute as he panics, realizing there is no way he packed a condom. (He's not looking for a random hook-up at your family weddings, nor did he think this would ever actually happen, no matter how long he's pined over you.)
"Fuck, Vernon," you moan, pussy throbbing in need as Vernon continues to rut his length teasingly between your folds whilst he searches for a condom anywhere - maybe there is one in his wallet. "Just fuck me without one. I'm clean and on the pill."
"Ah," he hisses, the thought of you taking him raw making him feel like he could burst. "I'm clean too, are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure," you confirm, hands grabbing at him to pull him closer to you.
"F-Fuck, Y/N," he's obliging, his thick, leaky tip dipping in between your folds and sinking into your tight, little cunt. His body shakes as he plunges deep inside of you, hips bottoming out and getting sucked in completely by your walls.
You're shaking too, heavy breaths soothing you as you adjust to his thickness and length. He wasn't massive, but he was more than enough to deliciously stretch you out. Vernon's convinced he could bust just from the feeling of your walls fluttering and adjusting around him, staring down at you with starry eyes as your face contorts in pleasure.
Vernon suddenly feels as if he has a purpose, watching as your jaw falls slack when he experimentally pulls out just to thrust back in, immediately finding the spongey spot deep in your core.
He's addicted to your reactions, the way you look so beautiful with each precise thrust and spear of his cock inside of you. He's memorizing the way your eyes roll back and clamp shut, remembering how your pouty lips scream his name, noting how your cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink.
Vernon's come to realize he can't get enough of you. He's going to forever be hooked on everything about you, and now that he's tasted and felt your perfect pussy, you won't ever get rid of him.
This passion he feels is reflected in the way he roughly fucks you, hips snapping into yours just to pull another delightful moan from your lips. You can feel the bed rocking as he fucks even deeper into your pussy, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you feel your impending orgasm build.
His motions slowly become sloppy, and the explicit squelching of your walls sucking him in has him groaning with each messy rut of his hips. Vernon is still keen on watching you though, wanting to see your features as you come undone beneath him.
"C'mon, Y/N," he beckons, his length continuing to fill you so perfectly as your walls flutter around him. He can feel you getting impossibly tighter, loving the way your legs keep him close as he pounds into you. "Look at me, please, let me see you."
You're listening to him, eyes opening to look back at him in the same way he's looking at you. There's that damn look again, but this time it has you falling apart for him. The way your walls spasm around his cock and the orgasmic glow of your features has him coming with you, filling you deeply with his cum as your core throbs in pleasure from the intensity of your orgasm mixing with his.
You're absolutely fucked out, the two of you breathless as Vernon reluctantly pulls out, and opts to clean you up quickly. You can't help but hide your face when he happily joins you back in bed, that same stupid look on his features that landed him here in the first place.
You're positive you'll be receiving a noise complaint from the hotel. Hopefully, none of the other wedding guests are staying around you, especially after you've been parading around with him as your "platonic" friend for the past few months (ahem, years).
#seventeen smut#svthub#svt smut#chwe vernon smut#vernon smut#hansol smut#hansol vernon chwe smut#[💌] anon#[💌] asks#i love you for this#i love me some vernon hard thots
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It Takes Two. #01
Trouble at Sea
RORONOA ZORO x READER
Prev. | Next.
“What do you mean, broken?” Usopp came up last, having been on the opposite side of the ship. You stared at Nami, wide-eyed. So that confirms the nagging feeling I’ve had, you realized. I can’t sense any islands! Not even a rock above the sea.
“I mean, its not locking onto any island! That should be impossible.”
Instantly, you could feel Zoro’s eyes on you. Usopp’s gaze followed his, and you puffed your feathers indignantly. “Don’t look at me like that. In case you haven’t realized, I've been in sight of at least one of you my entire time on this ship.” Usopp seemed satisfied by that answer, though Zoro never stopped glaring. Sanji scoffed and half shoved Zoro, “stop staring at the lady like that! Her defense is flawless.”
“Damn cook! She’s the only suspect that could’ve broken it.”
“How do we know you didn’t break it, huh?! Lumbering about, I bet you broke it.”
“The hell did’ya say?!”
“You heard me!”
“Enough, both of you!” Nami shouted, her fist connecting with both of their heads and sending them on their ass.
Yikes. That must’ve hurt-
Luffy tilted his head and asked, “is there any way to reset it?” “I.. I don’t know. We’d need to reach an island for it to re-set. But, it set on the last island..”
Nami was staring at it, and you closed your eyes.
“I can try and help,” you finally said, moving closer to Nami. “If you remember earlier, I said I can usually - essentially, lock on to islands. The chances of me sensing them before the Logue Pose is high. I just won’t be able to tell specifics of where we’re going.”
Nami stared at you, “you’d do that?” “I will.”
“Oh, thank you!” She threw her arms around you, and you awkwardly stood before allowing your wings to wrap around her, tail twitching nervously. “I’ll do my best- do you mind if I take the lookout? The higher I am, the better.”
“Awesome!” Luffy added, throwing his arms in the air. Chopper still looked nervous, and Usopp was the same. “Are you sure you can do it? I think I’m catching we need a new logue pose disease-” You snorted, shaking your head in amusement, “my blood will prove far more reliable than a piece of technology. It could just be an old logue pose.” You unwrapped your wings from Nami as she pulled away, though still stressed- you couldn’t blame her there. You were nervous too, but you couldn’t vocalize it quite yet. It wasn’t worth worrying the crew when you may just be having a range problem.
“You should get some rest,” Nami advised, “and take over in the morning.” Raising a hand, you shook your head. “I’ve slept for a week. I’ll be fine until tomorrow night.” Luffy snickered, with Chopper perking up, “don’t over-do it! You’re still injured.” “I’ll be sitting still. Thanks for your concern, Doc.”
. . .
Which led you to sitting up in the lookout. It was cramped, not that you minded. You’d been up for about two hours, watching as the sky slowly blushed a gentle pink as the sun began to greet your side of the world. We’ve been sailing for hours, and still.. There hasn’t been a bird in sight. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen many fish, either.
Part of you was beginning to feel guilty. It wasn’t like you could help it- if there was no land, there was none. You were unaware of Viserons had a range limit of how far away they could sense land, but still.
“Anything new?”
“GA- damn it, make some noise!”
You yelped, having turned around with such speed you almost toppled over, hand covering your heart once more. The swordsman had climbed up to the lookout, making room for himself to sit across from you. “You seriously need some more situational awareness.” Zoro replied, unable to hide the grin that spread across his face. “I was focused!” “So you said last time. Doesn’t answer my question.”
“...No. There’s nothing new. I’m putting a bell on your happy ass.”
Zoro released what you thought was a mix of a sigh and amused snort, shaking his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be better than a Logue Pose?” “I am! In case you’ve noticed, neither of us are working. So in turn, I am neither worse nor better than it, now.”
“Yuh-huh.” The swordsman adjusted himself and you instinctively drew as far away from him as you could in the cramped look-out. He eyed you, and, maybe for his own amusement, jolted as though he was going to move closer. You shrank further, wings tucking closer as your feather tufts pinned to the side of your head.
“Personal bubble, dude!” “Stop being so jumpy. If I was gonna stab ya, it would’ve been earlier.”
That reminds you-
“Why do you carry three swords?”
“To fight with. Obviously.”
“Obviously, but why three? It doesn’t look like you have three hands.”
“I carry one in my mouth.” As if to prove a point, he drew the white one, and plopped it in his mouth. Your jaw gaped for a moment, closing and opening your mouth to picture carrying the weight of a sword during a fight. “......Why though?! You’ve gotta have some crazy jaw strength.”
His lips tugged into a smirk, as he removed it from his mouth, “three swords style. I could teach ya.”
You shook your head, tail curling in amusement. “Pass, I'd rather not break my fangs or my jaw.”
“Your loss.”
“I’d rather learn the one-hand sword style. Not that it’d work well with how I fight.”
Zoro raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “How do you fight?”
“With bow and specialized arrows. Viserons, and the locals from Aero-Mountain, fight in the air. We can’t carry too much weight into battle.
“My personal favorite arrows are the explosives and poison gas.” “That’s dirty.” You snickered, “i couldn’t care less. In a real fight, its my life or theirs. There’s also water arrows, though those don’t get used often.. They were developed to battle devil-fruit users. But seeing as no sailors have reached our island for so long.. Well, Ice comes in handy more than water does.”
Zoro nodded, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. You watched as his eyes closed, his breathing becoming increasingly steadier until you were certain he’d fallen asleep. How care free, you thought, allowing your eyes to close as well. Not to sleep, but rather to ensure focus. You’d been up here for hours, yet not a single island had come to your senses. What could possibly be going wrong?! Surely either me or the Pose would’ve long since locked onto something! Its starting to seriously stress me out. Especially since we’ve been moving..
Wait.
“Wait-”
You jolted up, causing Zoro to jolt awake as well, “whaddya doin?!” but you didn’t stop to answer, instead throwing yourself off the lookout, your wings snapping open to catch you, powerful movements keeping you steady.
“Hey, Chopper said you shouldn’t be flying- get down!”
“There’s no wind. We haven’t moved for hours!”
You weren’t fighting the wind, the mast and sails weren’t moving, not even the water had waves! Zoro stared at you for a minute before it clicked in his head, and you allowed yourself to drop to the ground.
“Nami!”
You shouted, running towards the resting rooms, and knocked frantically on the door. “Huh? What’s upp..” Her voice was groggy from sleep, and part of you felt bad for waking her, you blurted, “we haven’t been moving for hours! There’s no wind! I don’t think there’s any current, either!”
“WHAT?!”
Her screech was likely to wake all the others, and she threw open her door, looking like a hot mess. “I didn’t even stop to think about it until I realized how long we’ve been on the water.”
“That doesn’t explain why you threw yourself out of the lookout.” Zoro grumbled, and you rolled your eyes, “So i could see for myself if there was any wind."
"Couldn't ya have just.. yaknow." He stuck a finger in the air and you scoffed, "that ways no fun."
"But it's practical."
"Oh put a sock in it, mosshead."
"The hell ya say, feathers?!"
"Knock it off, both of you! This is serious!" Nami interjected, rushing out to look at the sails, and then at the water. Sensing what she wanted to do, you jumped over the railing, flying close enough to the water and stuck your hand in. There was no current.
"Not a thing," you reported, coming to land on the railing.
"How could I have not noticed.." "You were asleep, that's how. If anything, blame me and zoro. We were the ones awake."
"Leave me outta this!"
"Fair point, you did fall asleep."
Zoro clenched his teeth, leaving you snickering, but the amusement didn't last long. Nami had run back into the map room, and you followed suit.
"It doesn't make any sense.. we shouldn't be anywhere near the calm belt!"
"Thats right. Plus, if this was the calm belt.. we'd have been eaten by monsters. A while ago."
You shrugged your shoulders, and could feel Nami relax just a bit. Zoro hadn't followed you guys: you assumed he figured the two of you had it. "...what other reasons could there be for the lack of life?" You questioned, Leaning over the table to stare closer at her maps. Looking at it now, her maps were elaborate: not a single space left unmarked. Nami pinched the bridge of her nose, and you sighed.
"Somethings just not right. Should be sensing- anything. But there's nothing."
"I just don't know.."
"So let me fly out there."
You let your wings spread, "let me get some distance. If I fly atleast half a days travel from the ship, I'm bound to find something."
Nami looked up and, shook her head. "I can't let you do that.. Chopper said you shouldn't be flying. You shouldn't mess up your back an-" "I'll be fine. I'm a Viseron. We were made for this." You cut her off, "and I could even bring Chopper or someone else with me. Assuming you have a board or something that'll float, attach a rope to me and I can essentially be a snow dog, except in the skies."
"That sounds cool!"
You recognized Luffy's voice, and you both turned your heads to see the crew standing at the door.
"I filled them in on what was going on," Zoro explained, Chopper on his shoulder, "you can't do that! You'll strain your wings and back too much!"
Crossing your arms you stared at Chopper, eyes narrowing. "You're cute and all, but you can't judge what my body can take. I feel my body much better than you can. That being said, I am grateful for your concern." Chopper opened his mouth and this time,Zoro covered it. "She's made up her mind. However.."
"That person you said you'll bring? It's me."
Which leads you here. A rope tightened around your waist, attached to a small row boat- well, actually, it could hardly be called a boat.. more like a glorified, giant wooden bowl, with Zoro sat in it. He kept trying to row, which threw off your flying, but he was just trying to help.
You didn't really care who went, but with all of them arguing, and Nami growing increasingly more annoyed, you stated Zoro would be the one to come. He was quiet, anyways.
Chopper would've been lighter, but he was a worrier: Sanji was creepy with his.. weird fascination with women, Luffy would be a hassle, and too much of a risk with a devil fruit, and it seemed Nami and Usopp were too scared.
So you'd flown in silence for a few hours. The Sunny had long since grown out of view. Your back was beginning to feel strained, but you weren't ready to stop.
"Hey, Feathers."
Zoro spoke up, and making sure there was no slack to the rope, you flew closer, just above his head. "Yeah?"
"What's it like? Flying."
You thought a moment, before shrugging. "It's natural.. fun, but .. natural." "Huh. Why arent your wings further up?"
Ouch. So the stereotype wings are a thing.
You chuckled. "I've heard most people think the wings should grow from our shoulders." Your wings actually rested in your mid back. You had custom made shirts that doubled as thin body armor. "Men usually have them a bit higher, since they tend to be more top heavy. Besides defects, wings are always below the shoulders."
He seemed confused, but didn't question it further. "..didn't answer what it's like."
"Oh- .. think of it like, swimming, but in the air, and less holding you back. Until you get really high up, there isn't any wild pressure. It's.. Freeing." You responded. There wasn't really any answer to how it felt, and Zoro seemed satisfied.
"My turn to ask. Why did you come? Is it because you don't trust me to come back?"
That caught the swordsman off guard. He placed his hand on the hilt of the white sword, staring up at you.
"Something like that. You could've very easily been faking injury. ..speaking of, get on the boat. You've been flying for hours, take a damn break." He gestured to the boat, which would put you in another cramped area with the man. "Pass. I'm sure you've guessed by the amount of times I've said this, but I'm a Viseron. Built for flight."
He raised an eyebrow, and reached for the rope. "Don't you d-" and he tugged it, pulling you down until you were forced to land.
Tail twitching back and fourth out of annoyance, you crossed your arms. "So you accuse me of faking an injury, and then insist on resting because of said injury? Logic 101."
Zoro laughed, shaking his head. "Not trusting you doesn't mean you need to suffer because of it."
"How chivalrous." Your feather tufts pricked. A soft groan was coming from the ocean. "..hey? Swordsman. You hear that?"
"It's Zoro. And.. yeah, now that you mention it, I do." He stood up, and your wings slowly spread, ready to take flight. "It's coming from above the water but.. I don't see anything."
You whispered, eyes darting back and fourth. Zoro nodded in agreement, drawing two of his swords. You felt vulnerable not having a real weapon, besides the sharpness of your wings.
Another minute of you both completely frozen, and then..
A ship. Coming out of the middle of nowhere, as if a hole had ripped open in the sky to let it through.
"What a big ship!"
"...shit. The Marines!"
#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#one piece x reader#one piece#straw hats x reader#straw hats
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