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ourautumn86 · 9 months

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omg!!!! can we pleaseeee get a part 2 of come over w abby it was literally the best thing i have EVER read ilysm for making that, i didn’t know i needed it until nowhdjjsh <33333

come now

pt1 (come over)

synopsis; abby ran away. but she couldn’t keep herself away from you for too long.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, party, drinking, smoking, drug usage (weed), mentions of other girls, jealousy, hickeys, teasing, arguing, public! touching, kissing, making out, hate and needy sex, tit and nipple play, dom! abby x sub! reader, fingering (r! receiving), cursing, hair pulling, chocking, strap on usage (r receiving), recording with phone, cum eating, mommy kink, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, praising, praise kink, possessiveness, squirting…

you can feel her eyes on you. you were sweaty, dancing in between that pile of college students that needed a getaway for the weekend. you had so much alcohol on your veins, mind fuzzy and skin warm. she looked good. with a pair of green cargo pants and a tight fucking black shirt. her shiny blonde hair was down on her back, and in between her fingers stood a blunt, a glass filled with alcohol on the other hand. she was resting against a wall, two of her friends talking.

she was supposed to be paying attention, but she couldn’t catch a word when you looked like that. the party was filled with pretty girls of all years, but jesus christ, none of them took her breath away like you did.

after that night, in which she had finally been able to make you moan her name, to have you on her sheets, she had ran away, leaving before you would wake up to god knows where. now it had been a week, a week in which you’d seen abby with all types of girls.

you couldn’t help but scoff at it. of course. you were furious. confused. but at the same time you couldn’t help but want to kick yourself. it had been that easy. as easy as a little call and she’d had you dicked down. had she lied? had she just used you? you were pretty much the last girl she had not yet fucked from the whole school. maybe she just wanted to complete the list. well, now it seems like you were just one more of them.

your whole body had burned. snapping at ellie when she’d dared as ask what had happened. you couldn’t tell her that you had fucked abby anderson, even less that you had liked it.

you were burning up.

your pride eating at you to not stare. to forget about that night. and you had tried. tried multiple nights to forget about her, but al you could do would be roll on your sheets with the reminder of her touch. of her tongue.

you could cum with her name on your tongue. it was awfully easy. and you hated her to her guts for it.

abby did too. she had caved fucking in. she had gone and fucked you. she had promised herself she wouldn’t. ever. you were trouble. you made her feel things she didn’t like to feel. you made her smile when no one else was watching with your little stupidities —she was always staring at you, you just wouldn’t see it—, and made her want to punch herself at the many times you left her awake not being able to take you out of her head.

she could still remember the jealousy of the first years of high school. when cute boys and girls would approach you. she so knew you should be hers. but she was supposed to hate you. she had to. she couldn’t like you. not you. you couldn’t give her butterflies and make her go weak in the knees with just a smile. she wouldn’t have it. wouldn’t accept it.

but you had cracked her. you seem good at it.

the thought of ellie williams in between your legs, her fucking place, had made it impossible to not beg you to come to her. to tell you what she felt. she needed you. and each day, each second was torture. she was meant to break. you had broke her.

with your sweet fucking voice begging for her, your soft moans and your taste. she had tasted heaven. a very dangerous drug. and she couldn’t get addicted.

of course. she had girls asking for one night everywhere, but not even the prettiest one of them all could make her forget about you.

at how beautiful you’d sounded. how good you had taken her cock and made her cum.

she couldn’t ignore you. couldn’t fucking make herself turn to who she was before it all.

your dress was rilling up, soft plush of your thighs showing for her hungry eyes. there was alcohol shining on your lips. and she wanted to lick it off. she was high out of her mind.

but she knew. she knew she couldn’t go another day without it all.

you looked so hot on your tiny dress and high heels, sweat shining on the skin that she had branded before. she wandered if you worn anything underneath. if you’d gone out to try and drip for someone else.

she couldn’t help it. she wasn’t really paying attention to the girl that had been staring and talking to her through the whole night. her eyes were on you, and that fucking girl.

you didn’t knew where your friends were, you didn’t actually care with the buzz in your head and the soft kisses that some girl was leaving on your neck. her hair was soft, short, brown. and her eyes were dark. she was beautiful. and you were desperate. it was easy to fall on her arms with the need to forget abby.

but suddenly. there was that pine scent, and those warm hands gripping your hips. you felt on your back the hum of a harsh “go.” and next thing you knew was that ava was disappearing.

your blood was boiling as you turned around to face anderson. abigail fucking anderson. with her hooded eyes, sharp jaw and big arms. the alcohol was quickly evaporating from your blood. you pushed away. “what the fuck anderson?”

“anderson?” she inquired. “what happened to ‘abby’?” she smirked and you rolled your eyes. “i liked that better.” she leaned in, and you gasped when she got a grip on your hips, pulling you against her. “even more when you were moaning it.” your body shivered at her words, warm on your ear. “who’s the girl, hm?” she inquired, and you scoffed.

“could ask you the same, don’t you think?” she gritted her teeth, and you looked into her eyes. she was staring at the hickeys decorating your neck.

“what? you jealous sweetheart?” she inquired you, and your stomach jumped at the nickname. you could remember her telling you to cum, fucking you harsh and deep. ‘why don’t you come all over my dick, hm? let me see you fall apart.’

your cunt throbbed, and you felt your slick pooling in between your lips. fuck. no. not again.

“i’m not the one coming back to you.” you muttered on her face. and you saw a vein pop on her neck. suddenly, there was a a harsh grip cupping your jaw. she was close. so close you could almost taste the weed off of her lips.

“careful.” she warned, voice low. so low your knees almost wobbled, your throat almost got ripped with a whine.

“or what? you’re gonna beg?” you pushed her. again. just a little further. just a little more. and that’s all she needed to finally do something about it.

the hand on your jaw circled your neck, tugging you against her lips. she groaned on your mouth, and you whimpered, her tongue pushing inside as her fingers left bruises on your hip. the kiss was angry. all teeth and tongue. she felt the same. she still made your hands shake as you pulled on her hair, still made your chest tighten up and your stomach drop.

“fucking brat.” she growled, kissing down your neck, biting over the hickeys glowing on your skin. she needed to put hers over them.

“fucking dick.” you answered.

“yeah, i’m sure you miss mine, huh?” she chuckled on your ear. “fucking you open. you looked so pretty crying on it. so sweet begging…” you moaned, your hips thrusting against hers, feeling the bulge of her strap under the denim.

“shut the fuck up.” you seethed.

“why don’t you make me, pretty girl?”

you did as soon as your mouth was crashing against hers. she grunted, biting down on your lip.

“oh fuck abby.”

“was killing me seeing you with that girl. couldn’t stop thinking about her fucking you like i did, getting the chance to see how good you look when you cum, make you cry…was driving me crazy.” she confessed, making you whimper. “just wanted to come here and fuck you with my fingers. show her and everyone here who you belong to.” you moaned, her teeth nibbling at your neck, her free hand now on stomach, trailing down your stomach. “you’d like that baby?” you nodded. “i beg you would.” you whinedwhen her hand cupped your throbbing and dripping cunt. the distance in between you so little no one could see as she pushed your panties aside, thick fingers spreading your lips and glistening in your arousal. “fuuck. you’re soaked, doll.” she smirked, at the gasp you let out, at the way your thighs clenched. “is it for me?” she inquired and you nodded. “words.”

“yes, abby, fuck…”you sighed, your hips thrusting against her touch.

“upstairs.” she ordered, tugging from your hand and making you whimper when her fingers left you. she was quick to find an empty room on the second floor, pulling you inside and closing the door. it felt like the next breath you took came from her lips. she tasted like weed and alcohol. so sweet and bitter.

“take this off.” you begged, pulling from her black shirt, and she was quick to push it over her head, toned stomach and chest exposed for you to see, her tits perfectly cupped by her sports bra.

“you’re drooling.” she smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“shut up and fuck me.”

“fuck i missed you.” she muttered against your lips, and you whined. “you and that fucking mouth of yours…” her tongue pushed against yours, spit dribbling down your chin as you let her pull from your dress, leaving you in a cute set of lingerie that had her almost falling to her knees.

you were pulling and pushing at each other, ending up on the double bed, your legs at either sides of her thighs, straddling her lap.

her hands where on your hips, her lips on your breasts. you were grinding down against her, looking for some kind of friction, relief.

“wasn’t the other girls enough?” you teased her, although you needed her so bad you were hurting. in answer she pushed down your bra, taking one of your nipples into her mouth as she left a harsh spank on your ass.

“watch your mouth.”

“watch yours. last time it ended on my pussy.”

she scoffed, and now she was pushing your panties aside, fingers meeting the amount of slick that now soaked your cunt. you hissed. “you mean this pussy? the one dripping for me?” all breath got punched out of your lungs when she harshly and suddenly plunged inside two of her fingers, starting to quickly thrust and curl into you, hitting your g spot over and over again. you moaned. “what?” she teasingly asked, looking at the way your mouth hung open and your eyes squeezed shut. “what was that?” she smirked, seeing how easy you became a babbling mess for her. the wet squelches of your pussy filled her ears. you were so tight and so warm inside. “that’s what i thought.” she whispered against your chest, biting and sucking one of your nipples.

“oh fuck abby.” you cried out. you were already so fucking close it was embarrassing, hips thrusting against her fingers so they could reach deeper.

“this is my pussy, not yours. you hear? mine.” she growled, and you moaned. “say it. tell me it’s mine.”

“it’s yours, abby. yours. fuck!”

she cooed. “look at you. what is it, princess? so obedient… got the brat fucked out of you?” you whimpered, feeling your walls fluttering, your g spot being tortured by her thick fingers. “you’re so close already… so close to cumming all over my fingers, aren’t you baby?” you nodded. “come on, be a good girl and give it to me.” you let out this low moan as you followed her words, soaking her fingers in white strings that made her groan. “that’s it. atta girl…” so warm… she fucked you through it, making you make this little choked out sounds that had her soaking her boxers.

you were a mess, all flushed and droopy fucked eyes with glossy bitten lips, watching as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them inside her mouth, humming at the taste. you pulled from her, kissing her, her tongue letting you get a taste of yourself. she turned the two of you around, and one of your hands palmed her strap, making its back bump against her clit and her groan. you kissed her neck, biting and sucking on her skin. “oh fuck.” she sighed, bucking her hips onto your touch.

“abby, fuck me please…” you tugged from her pants, and she nodded —you didn’t need to ask her twice, she was almost panting at the thought of fucking your pussy on her cock—, kissing you as she quickly got rid of her pants and underwear, the strap already on and low on her hips. it was big, and had a lot of ridges. you almost drooled.

she didn’t wait to align herself with your entrance, lubing the tip of the strap with your cum to push inside. your back arched, the sting of her cock stretching you out inch by inch making you let out this beautiful whimper that had abby feeling dizzy. “fuck. pussy taking my cock so good. i’m gonna shape you to my dick. gonna ruin you for anyone else. you’re mine.” she pulled back, your tight walls sucking her in before she would thrust inside up to the hilt, bruising your cervix.

you screamed her name. she was relentless, groaning as the back of the strap would brush against her throbbing clit, her slick making it easy to glide through her puffy folds. you two looked like animals in heat, your hips fucking against her in need for “more, more, more…”

abby groaned, you were basically fucking yourself on her cock. using her to get off. and fuck if that didn’t turn her on.

she took her phone from her pants, the flash of the camera recording making you hum.

“look at you. riding my dick. desperate little thing…” you moaned. she was pointing the camera exactly to where your cunt stretched around the strap, to the mess you were making of her cock and your thighs due to how fucking wet you were. “i should send this to the whole fucking school. make them know who you belong to, hm?” you moaned, the thought of it turning you on so badly you almost came, nodding.

“yes, abby, fuck…”

she groaned. “tell them. tell them who you belong to.” your back arched at the feeling of a light slap against your clit, making you cry out.

“you! you!”

“that’s fucking right. you’re mine.” her thrust became harsher, the sounds of your cunt engulfing her cock making your thighs shake. it was embarrassing, how much you were enjoying this. how badly you needed her. “fucking mine.” your tits were jumping with every thrust of the snap of her hips, your voice breaking at the feeling of the tip bumping against your g spot over and over and over again…

you were a babbling mess, slurring her name. “abby, abby, abby, abby…”

“what is it, baby? gonna cum? gonna be a good girl and cum for mommy?” she smirked, biting down on her lip at the broken whine you let out. “you like that? like to be mommy’s good girl?” you nodded, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when her fingers found your clit. “then cum. cum for mommy.”

you let out a scream, your high hitting you so hard your ears rung. it seemed to never end. it just got bigger and bigger and bigger as you soaked her cock, your moans getting higher as you rode the best orgasm of your fucking life.

“holy fuck.” she threw away her fucking phone. she wasn’t thinking about sending that video. no fucking way. it was for hers to fuck her cunt when she’d get horny. it was hers. you looked so desperate. no one else could see you like this. she wouldn’t let them.

“mommy…!” you whimpered when her thrust only became harder, her hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold that had you begging it would leave marks. she grunted, feeling her high getting closer as well. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you were so sensitive, coming non stop on her dick, your back arched and nipples swollen due to her sucking. you looked so fucking beautiful it hurt.

“take it.” she growled. “stop being a cry baby and fucking take it.” you gasped when one of her hands pushed down on your stomach, on the bulge her cock made. “can you feel it? feel how deep i’m in, baby? how deep i’m fucking you?” you were crying, it was too much. but at the same time not enough. you babbled her name, pushing on her hips. she manhandled you, choking you down onto the mattress. “stay fucking still.” the lack of oxygen and the feeling of her strong warm hand pressing just the right spots made you fall apart.

“abby, i’m gonna…!” you tried to warn her, but before you could, your thighs were quivering and you were screaming as you squirted all over her thighs and strap, soaking the clothes.

“fuuuuck.” she groaned, looking at you fall apart, cumming over and over and over again. your nails dug on her forearms. “gonna cum, baby. gonna fill you up.” she grunted. “gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum. gonna leave you dripping for a fucking week.” she was a babbling mess. she was so close. so fucking close. she could feel it growing on her lower stomach, the back of the strap rubbing against her puffy and swollen clit.

you nodded.

“please. please. cum inside. need it inside.” you pleaded, and that’s what made it for her.

abby soaked the back of her strap with a moan, rocking her hips to help the two of you ride your orgasms in between moans and whimpers.

when it finally was over, after what felt like hours. her hips came to a halt, deep inside your cunt. she was panting on your neck, sweat coating your bodies. you two were speechless. fucked out of your minds.

she kissed you. deep and slow. wet. her tongue was warm and lazy into your mouth.

“i meant it.” she muttered against your lips, looking straight into your droopy teary eyes. “you’re mine.”

a/n: 🤘🏻

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seraphicsentences · 1 month

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pleaseee could you write an abby anderson x weather girl reader where they’re at the WLF base and abby catches reader staring at her hehehe

IM SORRY FOR TAKING 100 YEARS TO WRITE THIS AND THEN DELIVERING THIS MID ASS PIECE. i do hope you enjoy though i love you babe 😚😚

tags: abby anderson x reader, abby anderson x weather girl, EXHIBITIONISM, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), kinda mean abby anderson? idk man, the whole WLF base is probably a lil traumatized

AN: thank you to @insanermin and @f3mme-f4tale for reviewing this for me i’m endlessly grateful for the two of you bless your beautiful souls. credits to my favorite girl for helping me come up with what to write for this request. i love youuuu

it was the crack of dawn, sun just barely peeking its way over the tops of WLF’s buildings, yet the heat was unbearable.

“83 fucking degrees Fahrenheit, jesus christ,” you muttered to yourself, checking the stationed thermometers posted around the perimeter.

the base was, for the most part, quiet. only few unlucky individuals working mindlessly at their respective morning assignments.

you strolled down your usual path, squinting at the streams of sunlight cast on the side of your face, dancing into your vision.

“hey weather girl,” a voice called from behind.

abby anderson. as if you even needed to turn around to recognize her unmistakable, raspy, teasing tone.

you whipped around, watching intently as abby bent out from under a stock-filled tent, arms filled.

“need some help?” you joked, stifling a giggle that arose when abby dipped abruptly to catch a bag of bait between her teeth.

what you wouldn’t give to be that bag of bait, you bit your lip, eyes trained on abby’s busy mouth.

hmphmpsh abby sarcastically laughed against the plastic, snapping you out of your dirty-minded haze and sending a flush across the back of your neck.

you meet her examining eyes, breath hitching as she squints slightly, a smirk etched into her gaze. embarrassed at the thought of her catching you, you open your mouth in attempt to sway the conversation— but she beats you to it, breaking the stare-down a beat later, spitting the bag out into a small pile on the wood deck.

god, you would let her spit bait into your mouth if she wanted.

“so what’re we at today? it’s gotta be at least 90 out,” abby wipes at her forehead, making small talk as she organizes the rest of the stock.

“try 83. though i wouldn’t be surprised if we do reach 90 once the sun is fully risen,” you reply, raising a hand to block some of pesky rays ruining your god-sent view.

“no fucking waaaay!” abby drags out, astounded. “we are definitely at 90 by now, do you see me? im drenched!”

so am i, you think to yourself.

“trust the expert. your body temperature’s just extra high from physical exertion. whoever put you on for outdoor stock at this hour has it out for you,” you comment, eyes dragging as abby lifts the bottom of her tank to wipe her face, revealing a rather impressive display of rock-solid abdominals.

you catch her gaze, this time her having an eyebrow raised, and immediately look away, the flush on your neck spreading to the tips of your ears. as hard as you tried not to stare, abby wasn’t doing much to help, especially not while decked out in a translucent white tank, black bra beneath a stark contrast, begging for your attention.

abby’s dark green cargos hugged her thighs deliciously, highlighting her thick, defined quads as she shifted about.

lifting a large sealed box of who knows what from one end of the deck to the other, she grunted under the weight, leaving your mind to wander yet again to a different sort of situation where you might find yourself blessed enough to hear that pretty sound.

“yeah, whatever- i’ll tru-trust the expert,” she breathes out, voice strained. strands of her blonde— almost golden in the sun— hair stuck to her face with sweat, which glistened perfectly on her skin, making abby look almost angelic as she crossed into the sun’s direct heat.

“yeah,” you exhaled, at a loss for words under the confines of her entrancing beauty. you stood there a second longer, before suddenly snapping out of your daze, clearing your throat. “i’m, uh, gonna head to the station, i think,” you stuttered, despite your usual propensity for word flow heard throughout the WLF base every morning.

“desperate to get rid of me?” abby faux gasps.

you sputtered at her accusation, “no-no, i-“

“shhhh-shhh, i know honey, i know,” she cuts you off, bitable lips curling up into a half-smirk.

traitorous feet already walking their way towards the radio station, you desperately try to recover from your embarrassment, tripping over your words, “i-you, uh,” you try.

abby twists her head over her shoulder in your direction, cocking it in a way that makes your heart twist in your chest and a pulse thrum between your thighs.

“you can come!” you blurt without a second thought. “with me— i mean, to the station,” you add, trying to clarify.

faced with an jaw-dropped confused-yet beautiful abby anderson, you continue rambling, “it’s indoors! i mean obviously, because of the, um, radio equipment, but you know, you’re probably hot— well you are, but- shit- that’s not what i-“

“okay, okay, okay,” abby bursts out chuckling, which you’d enjoy a whole lot more if it weren’t at your sake, “you don’t have to convince me, sweetheart, i’m already there,” she holds her hands up in surrender.

your heart skips a beat at the nickname, brain racing at a million miles per hour when you catch the sight of abby’s built frame sauntering it’s way over to you, small towel slung lazily over one shoulder, braid swaying slightly with every step.

you swallow harshly at her approach, turning promptly around to lead the way in a brisk pace.

abby laughs to herself as she follows, “aw, don’t run, i want to see your pretty face.”

your face heats at the compliment, before proceeding to flush a nuclear red at another comment she mutters haphazardly under her breath, “though i’m not complaining about my view from here.”

she half jogs to catch up with you, though your supposed speed-walk is no competition for what she’d consider a stroll with her long limbs.

you see her looking-no, ravishing- your figure out the corner of your eye, her tongue pressed to the side of her cheek, as you silently yell at your cheeks to cool themselves down.

your eyes can’t seem to deny themselves such an appeasing view, though, darting to the side to steal a glance at abby’s translucent tank, and your attraction is clear, at least to abby.

“want something, honey?”

you cough in response, choking on the saliva you didn’t even notice gather as a physical response to abby’s presence (me), as the two of you, thankfully, arrive at the station at last.

“ladies first,” you joke, swinging the door open with the backwards weight of your body.

“such a gentlemen,” abby quips back, winking at you as she strolls through the opening.

the pair of you let out a collective sigh at the blast of cold air blowing softly from the studio. it’s a vacant space, but the constant flow of electricity needed to notify the base in the face of an emergency allows it to stay up and running.

you make a beeline to your set-up area, tangled wires running along every side of the desks, hooked up to all sorts of peculiar devices: microphones, barometers, fancy thermometers. abby finds herself surprisingly impressed by the sophisticated knickknacks you mindlessly twist and turn to read, as if flipping through a toddler-level picture book.

“where’d you learn how to work all of this?” she asks.

“stole some books off an old lab,” you reply, shooting her a shy smile, “like to read, i s’ppose.”

across the room, abby rests her elbows on the table behind her, crossing her legs and letting her head drop to one side. “smart girl,” she praises, cheeky smile slipping onto her face.

you bite the fat of your cheek, holding back a grin of your own before turning back to finish jotting down the day’s data into a tattered mini notepad.

you grab a sleek broadcasting mic off one of your shelves, shoving some of the wires aside on the main desk to make room for it to rest, before hooking one of the tinier cables into the mic, and twisting around to find an audio interface to plug the other end into.

“what am i doing here?” abby says all of a sudden, breaking your hustling focus.

you freeze, letting the cable drop as you look down. “i don’t know.”

abby pauses. “let me rephrase,” she strolls over, positioning herself lush behind you. she runs her arms down the sides of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake in spite of it being blisteringly hot out.

“what do you want me to do here?” she rasps by your ear, your head subsequently tilting to feel the heat of her breath on your neck.

“i-i don’t kn-“

“yes you do. just like i know exactly the mess i’ll find under these itty bitty shorts of yours.” she whispers, “you’re a terrible liar, sweetheart.”

a whimper slips out from your lips, head rolling back onto abby’s shoulder as you meet her sharp eyes with your pleading ones. your legs cross, squeezing shut, humiliated by the arousal that had gathered in reaction to, what, a 5 minute conversation with her? how pathetic.

“don’t think i didn’t notice your ogling earlier,” she continues, tracing her big hands lighting across your stomach, feeling your skin rise and fall with your increasingly rapid breaths. “your eyes give you away. i know what’s going on in that pretty little mind up there.”

your lips part as you roll your head further, almost completing a circle. the way you’re faced, you’re breathing desperate huffs directly into abby’s own mouth. she grazes a hand up between your two breasts, hard and pointed from a combination of the room’s dropped temperature and your arousal, then sliding her grip gently around your neck, holding your face close in place.

“you think you can get away with those slutty thoughts of yours? makin’ everyone think you’re such a good innocent girl, but no, you’re just a fucking whore aren’t you? isn’t that right, pretty?” she presses, tsking at your averting gaze.

“eyes on me, honey. you can’t hide. tell me what you really what,” she says into your mouth, lips just barely brushing over your own, the fucking tease.

you pant, eyes glued to her tempting mouth, desperate to close the distance. but you’ve got a job to do, and what’s fun without a bit of teasing? she deserves a taste of her own medicine, the bitch.

“what i really want…” you whisper back, “is to tell the base how fucking hot it is today,” you say at a normal volume, pushing off her back, and finally plugging the mic into the audio interface.

“duty calls!” you joke, trying to calm your racing heart and ignore the dampness between your legs. you hook the final plug into the wall, hearing a whirring that lets you know everything’s ready to go, before stealing a quick glance at abby to see how she’s taking your unexpected change of demeanor.

abby stands frozen in place, mouth gaping, but tweaked into an almost-smile, evidently shocked. your stomach flutters at the hungry look in her green, now nearly black, pupils, roguish thoughts brewing.

you bring a hand to your heart, dropping your jaw to match hers as you shoot a mocking who me? look in her direction paired with a shrug. winking, you turn back to your morning duties and take a seat, tuning in the frequency.

a click of a switch, an automated voice, and that’s all there really is to it. you’re live.

and your heart’s pounding out of your chest.

and though you’re usually hit with the slightest bit of anxiety over the idea of being listened to by every single individual on the very base, that’s not what you’re thinking about. well, not exactly.

“good morning, WLF!” you chirp, standard lines slipping off your tongue with ease, “hope you all had a great night’s rest! i know i sure did. today is august 2nd, 2038, and boy, you guys in for a sweat today! let’s check in with sophie and see what she has to say— sophie, you’re on!”

shaking out a breath, you click a button to tune in a livestream from the second weather station across the base, sophie’s station.

“hey girl, what’s up?” sophie’s cherry voice comes crackling through.

“the usual. wanna tell us how things have been looking on your end?”

“you betcha! good morning WLF, you heard it from our girl yourselves, it is goddamn hot out! my readings say that…” sophie continues, rattling off her collected data in a long, number-filled ramble.

you tune out, waiting for your cue to list your end’s data as you bounce your leg mindlessly up and down.

“oh you’ve really got everyone fooled, huh?” abby drawls behind you. you jump, temporarily forgetting her presence in the midst of your reporting.

you swivel your chair around to her, smiling cheekily as you press a finger to her lips in silence’s universal sign.

oh? abby mouths. we’re still live? she asks.

you nod your head slowly.

“then you’re gonna have to keep quiet for me sweetheart,” she leans in to whisper at a decibel just barely above zero. “unless you want everyone on base to know how much of a slut you are,” she adds, dropping to her knees before you.

“what are you-?!” you whisper hastily, stopping yourself to mutter lowly, “i’m the slut? look who’s on their fucking knees in a fucking radio station.”

she presses a chaste kiss to your thigh, smiling and shhhhing against your skin, mumbling, “shut up and focus. the base depends on you.”

with even just the lightest brush of abby’s buff frame against your knees, your legs fall open, beckoning her between them.

invisible hands to pulling her into your trap.

“abby,” is all you can get out, panting in need of her touch.

“focus, baby.”

she pulls your shorts and underwear down to the floor with a swift tug, smirk haughty as faced with your dripping mess.

“knew it,” she mouths, looking up devilishly at you. keeping your eyes trapped in her hypnotic gaze, she leans in slowly, tongue out, to catch your weeping pussy in a french kiss.

“fuck,” you breathe out, thighs trembling in resistance to clamp her head between them only just to keep her tongue against you.

she makes out sloppily with your folds, hands gripping your waist tightly to lock your body in place, pressing you firm against the chair despite your incessant squirming.

the point of her tongue traces down in a tease, slipping just barely into your pulsing hole to steal a taste of freshly dripped slick, before running it back upwards to firmly press into your neglected clit.

“ah!” you hiss, head thrown to the ceiling as your nails dig into the arms of the chair, hips attempting to buck further into abby’s warm mouth.

“you there, station one? i think the connection’s a bit warbly today,” a crackly voice interrupts your mind fog.

shit. sophie must’ve finished her report by now. you situate yourself up as best as you can— seeing as how abby won’t let go of your hips, or move away for that matter.

“hey sophie, yes i’m here! sorry ‘bout that, i-uh, yeah. there must be something up with the frequency today,” you sputter out.

“no worries! why don’t you go ahead and share your mornings data with us?” she laughs back.

“yeah, yeah, so my rea-fuck-“

you sharply take in a breath, sucking in your teeth. you look down. god, if that isn’t the hottest sight you’ve ever seen.

abby’s looking up through her eyelashes, your arousal smeared across the bottom half of her face, dripping to her chin. she dashes out a tongue to catch the corner of her mouth, smirk wolfish from her mischievous actions. she lifts an eyebrow, matching your prior who me? mock, as if she didn’t just set every nerve ending of your clit alight.

and while you could be absolutely furious with her for fucking with you on live, all you want from her is more.

“everything alright, station 1?”

you jump. “i-sorry- just, uh banged my knee up.” you mean to shoot a scolding look at abby, but just wound it up to be embarrassingly pleading.

she pouts sarcastically, and without breaking eye contact she bows in again to capture your puffy clit between her lips, sucking softly while flicking her tongue over and over again. it’s downright sinful.

“oh!” you whine, right hand darting to tug at abby’s braid, keeping her moving face moving against the place you need her most.

“um, station 1, i can take over if you’d like?”

your face flames. caught up in abby’s dizzying ministrations, your body’s screaming to say yes. yes, as in, yes sophie please fucking take over. and yes, as in, yes abby right there.

and you almost do, say yes to the first one, i mean. but a stinging pinch from abby tips you the other way.

“i, shit, sorry- i mean, yeah, sorry. sorry kids! don’t listen to me!” you babble, eyebrows scrunched and hips still grinding.

abby continues to torture your clit: her warm, wet tongue lapping up every last drop of your slick and pressing it rhythmically against that swollen button. your cunt tightens around nothing, desperate for something, anything, to fill ‘er up.

shit, you mutter to yourself, thrumming pussy impossible to ignore. “the temp-ah-temperature o-on my end read 83 degrees on my e-enndd-god,” you carry on, breathless, “ahem. we’re looking at clear, s-sunny skies all day, so be sure to wear some sort of- mmph- heat protectant,” you finish off your sentence sounding quite a bit more like a pornstar doing a dirty beach-scene than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“give me one, uh, one sec-cond to double check the read- readings,” you stumble out quickly.

“no problem! while we wait on our girl, WLF, i’ll tell you about what last minute assignments we still need people for, so listen up…” sophie entertains.

“abby,” you whine, covering the mic with your free hand in attempt to muffle your sounds. you can barely form a sentence with the way her nose nudges your clit while her tongue runs zig zags along your folds.

“i know,” she cooes, chucking, “keep it down, you’re on live.”

you silently will yourself not to cry out when abby stretches your legs further apart, shaking her head left and right to stimulate every crevice of your weeping cunt. back arching off the chair, you whimper out a strangled noise, “i cant, i cant, i cant” you chant.

abby’s drags turn to kisses, watching your legs tremble with an endearing gaze as she makes her way up your stomach and to your face. pressing a kiss against your cheek, then your nose, and alas, your parted lips, she whispers, “this is what you wanted, wasn’t it? so shut up and be good for me, yeah baby?”

you nod feverishly, heavy-lidded and staring intoxicated as abby bites bruises into your neck, only to soothe it a moment later with a flat-striped lick of her tongue.

“mmm god, abby, i need you,” you practically slur out, moaning her name like a ritual.

“you’ve got me,” is all she says. her calloused hand slides up from the bottom of your shirt, squeezing your breast harshly, as if she can’t get enough, needing to completely ravish you.

“here, abby, need you here,” you groan, emphasizing it with the buck of your hips.

“alright, alright,” she shushes you with a kiss, hand sliding back down to cup your heat gently, feeling your desperation. “right here, huh? you aching for it, sweetheart?”

your only response is to catch her lips in a needy kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth, eager to taste yourself on abby.

hmmph abby groans against your lips, fingers dipping shallowly into your coated hole.

“you can scream my name as loud as you want once you finish your report.“

“but-“

“you don’t want to let the base down, do you? how else are we supposed to know how dripping hot it’s gonna be out today?” she murmurs, emphasizing her words with a push of her thick fingers deeper into you.

your eyebrows scrunch, vision dizzy with need as you look up at the sight before you. a pretty pink hue glazing her sun kissed cheeks, abby tilts her head, finding delight in your struggle to come back to reality.

“c’mon, honey, you got it,” she purrs, running a hand to push the hair away from your face.

you narrow your eyes, pushing majority of the fog to a corner of your mind and uncovering your shaky hand from off the mic.

“sorry about that, folks,” you shakily speak up, “-and thanks soph. i’ll be out of your hair in just a second. as for today, we seem to be getting a light breeze coming in from the east at about 8 miles per hour, so it might hopefully provide a little bit of relief from the heat.”

in the meanwhile, abby hoists your figure up off the chair, shorts and panties still hooked askew around one of your ankles. a hitch in your voice signals your end’s confusion, but you continue on regardless, slave to abby’s actions.

she pushes your torso over slightly, having you put most of your weight on the desk as you hover over your mic, hair flicked over one shoulder.

“as for the air quality, it’s testing to be relatively clear. the spores don’t seem to be getting passed over by the wind, so no need to worry with the masks today! i’ll check in in the afternoon to see if that’s cha- nhghh,” you jolt forward, voice breaking and hips hitting the table as abby thrusts two fingers tightly into your heat from behind, twisting them to reach that ridged, aching spot.

“-changed,” you correct, exhaling sharply. your eyes roll involuntarily as abby picks up her pace, curling her fingers on every outstroke, other hand delivering languid circles to your puffy clit. you can feel the burn of her stare down your spine, head turning over your shoulder briefly to confirm, and catching sight of the two of you in the mirror on the back wall.

your flushed face, rumpled top, and trembling, kiltered, bent over position contrasted with abby’s working muscles as she stood strongly gripping your waist was a sight to behold.

“what would you do if i made you scream for me right now?” abby breathes out, grunting. “should we let the base know how much of a slut you are for me?” she asks, “fuck your special spot real good in front of everyone? right here?” she punctuates with a downright sinful massage against your g-spot.

she huffs out a quiet laugh when you rush to stifle a whimper against your forearm.

“nah, i think i’ll keep you for myself,” she says, tugging you by your hair to hiss “you’re mine.”

your legs nearly collapse right on the spot.

“like that, huh? now be good for me baby. you can take it,” she says lowly by your ear, fisting your hair back even more to take in your disheveled state before shoving your head down nose to nose with the mic.

you grip onto the stand in attempt to ground yourself. fucking abby.

“for now you sh-should be okay withou-ooout a mask on hand t-though,” you stumble through your words, racing to finish the report. “our trusty barom-meter indicates stable conditions— so i g-guess that means the- mmph- the world isn’t gonna expl-plode today?”

you fall to your forearms, losing balance with the aggressiveness of abby’s thrusts, walls clinging to her fingers, as if not to let a second by without her magic touch. abby kicks a leg between your two, sliding one to the side to spread you further before her as she slips a third finger in easily. your lips parts in a silent scream, hand racing to stuff it’s knuckle in your mouth to bite down on.

nails digging into the table, and mind begging forgiveness from god for all the fucking sin you’re committing, you speed

through a shitty conclusion, “overall, it’s a g-great day to sweat. that’s all i’ve got for you to-today. stay safe, stay cool, and enjoy the sun! bye!”

you rip the cord out of the audio interface before you can get the entirety of your final word out, loud moans borderline pornographic from being held back for so long.

“aw, you didn’t enjoy having an audience?” abby teases, fingers speeding up to coax more of your sounds out.

“fuck you, abby,” you gasp out, collapsing face-against-the-desk in pleasure.

“it’s okay, honey, your drenched pussy answers my question— i mean, look at you dripping right down my fingers,” she rasps, pinching your clit meanly.

god, you wanted to shove her fucking face into your cunt. at least that would get her to shut up.

“abby, i’m gonna-!” you cry, knees threatening to buckle.

“show me, pretty girl. fucking come all over my hand,” she spreads your sticky folds with a spare finger, swiping at the edges to effectively stimulate every part of your core.

you buck your hips back with every thrust, desperate to finish as you scream abby’s name like it’s the only word you know.

“fuck,” abby curses under her breath, arm curling around your front to hold your crumbling body up, hands busy bringing you to heaven. she wanted to live in this moment.

“ah- god, abs!” you weep, forehead digging into cables as you shudder in ecstasy, cum dribbling out of your overworked pussy, coating abby’s hands in your mess.

“god, abs,” you repeat between gasps, slowly regaining your vision back as abby lifts you up to lean your sweating figure against her matching one.

“so much for escaping the heat, huh?”

~ man oh man i tried guys. hope this satiated your weather girl needs ;)

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mattitties · 5 months

Text

Boyfriend, pt 3 - matt sturniolo

smutty smut smut!

part 1 part 2

“How was the date?” my roommate asks as I go into her room.

All I can do is smile. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life. “I love him,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh jesus. Okay, come sit, tell me everything.”

I sit on her bed and recount the whole night, from him picking me up at the door, to listening to Taylor Swift with me, to me never feeling a moment of awkwardness, and finally, to him kissing me outside the apartment. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a boyfriend so any ounce of actual romantic attention is a dream come true but I genuinely think he’s perfect for me,” I tell her.

“He does sound pretty perfect for you…”

“See!”

“But slow ya roll! Take it easy, just don’t rush into anything.” I nod in agreement. I know that there’s still so much to learn about him, but I just feel like I already trust him with my life. It takes me a long time to feel truly comfortable with anyone, but there’s just something about him that makes me feel like I’ve known him forever.

I wake up the next morning later than usual, and to my surprise, I already have a text from him.

Good morning! I had a lot of fun last night :)

I’m about to respond when another text comes through.

Would u wanna grab lunch today? I can pick u up again

I smile to myself and start typing.

good morning!! i had fun too, and i would love to get lunch! what time?

I can get you around 2?

sounds good see you then 😁

I look at the time and panic when I see it’s already 12:30. How the fuck did I sleep so late? I get ready and before I know it, it’s 1:55 and he’s texted me that he’s here. I have to applaud his punctuality, it’s hot as fuck knowing that he actually cares enough to be somewhere on time. God, I really need to raise my standards.

I head downstairs and he’s in the same spot by the door, smiling shyly when he sees me. His fashion sense is immaculate: today he’s wearing black cargo jeans, a black T-shirt, and a white long sleeve underneath. I’m disappointed that he’s not showing off his sleeve of tattoos like last night, but I still can’t stop staring at him.

“Hi,” he smiles, giving me a hug. He smells good, like warm vanilla, and his hug is the most comforting thing in the world at this moment.

“How’ve you been in the last… 12 hours since I saw you?” I ask as we head to the car.

“Oh you know, just been sitting at home twiddling my thumbs until I could see you again. We’re at a three day streak now!” he tells me as he opens the door for me.

I laugh and can’t take my eyes off of him as he makes his way to the driver’s side. “Why’d you wear a long sleeve today? I miss your tattoos,” I fake pout and play with his sleeve.

“Ohhh, you can see those whenever you want, don’t you worry.”

God, he makes me fucking crazy. We start driving, talking about mindless things, and end up at a little diner not too far from my apartment.

“My brothers and I go here all the time, their food is so good,” he tells me as we go inside.

Once we’re seated and have ordered our food, our conversation flows just the same as it did last night, except today we’re talking about stuff that it usually takes me at least a few weeks of knowing someone before I share about. I tell him about my family, he tells me about his and how he’s never been away from his brothers for more than 24 hours, while I tell him that my brothers and I are more like acquaintances and I only ever talk to them about surface level stuff.

“I couldn’t imagine,” he says. “Nick and Chris are like my safety nets. To be honest, tonight and today are the first time I’ve actually gone out to a restaurant without at least one of them in like… 3 years.”

“Really? I actually don’t mind doing stuff alone. I know people hate going out to eat by themselves, but I think I just grew up so independent that I’m comfortable with it. Like, my favorite thing ever is going to the movies, but if I don’t have anyone to go with I’ll just go by myself. I find it peaceful,” I tell him.

“I love going to the movies too, but I could never go by myself. That sounds fucking terrifying,” he says, laughing a bit as he talks.

“I get it,” I say. “Well, would you ever want to go to a movie together? It’s not alone and we both like it, so…”

He smiles. “I would love to. But if you talk in there, I’m out. We’re done. No movie talkers in my presence.”

I shake my head very seriously. “Oh no, absolutely not. Trust me, you won’t hear a peep.”

By the time we finish lunch, it’s only 3:45, and neither of us are ready to go home yet.

He turns to me when we get in the car. “What do you think about that movie right now? I have nothing else going on the rest of the day.”

We arrive at the theater and just pick a movie at random. Neither of us have any real interest in seeing any of the ones they’re showing, but it gives us something to do together. We’re pleasantly surprised when we walk into an empty theater, so we take our seats and make fun of the trailers until the movie starts.

About 30 minutes in, I realize that I have no idea what’s happening in the movie. I’ve been glancing at Matt the whole time, trying to pretend like I don’t see him glancing at me too. I can tell that he wants to hold my hand, wrap his arm around me, just touch me in some way, and I want to just scream at him to do something. It’s all I can think about. I shift up a little in my seat and look at him slightly. He looks at me. Without saying a word, we both know what the other wants.

He takes my cheek softly in his hand and kisses me. I immediately fall into it, our lips moving together effortlessly, our tongues colliding. But I want more. I need more.

“Matt,” I say between kisses. “Can we go back to my place?”

“But the movie isn’t over yet,” he breathes into my mouth.

I pull back slightly and look at him with the same eyes I gave him two nights ago. “Matt. My place. Please?”

His eyes widen. “Oh. Oh.”

I nod and giggle as he grabs my hand and rushes me out of there and back to his car like his life depends on it. Luckily the movie theater is about 5 minutes away from my apartment, and even more luckily my roommate is at work. The tension in the car ride home and in the elevator is so thick I can hardly breathe. As soon as we open the door to my room, his hands are all over me. We’re kissing messier than before; our teeth are clashing, our tongues fighting one another. He walks us towards my bed, dipping his head so his mouth reaches my neck as he begins to kiss, nip, and suck.

“Matt,” I whine.

“Hmmm,” he hums in response, sucking a spot right under my ear. I begin to play with the bottom of his shirt, signaling that I want it off. He smirks and unlatches himself from my neck just long enough to pull it off his body before going back to what he was doing.

“God you’re so hot,” I half whisper as my hands run down from his chest to his happy trail. I grab his face in my hands and kiss him hard, then sit down on the bed and look up at him.

“What do you wanna do?” he teases, knowing exactly what I want. I pull my shirt off, leaving me in a black lace bra, and begin to undo his jeans as he stares down at me.

“Is this okay?” I ask, pulling his zipper down painfully slow.

“Mhm. Yeah, no it’s, um, it’s good,” he says, clearly flustered by what’s happening. And I can’t get enough.

I pull his jeans down and almost drool over his black briefs. I look up at him again for a moment, then palm over his bulge, earning a low groan from him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as I tear his briefs down as well, and I need to control my face when I see his dick.

It’s not huge, probably about 6 inches, but it’s genuinely perfect. I never thought I’d say that about a dick, but no, it is perfect.

He inhales sharply as I wrap my hand around the tip and begin to work him, my thumb running over his slit every so often. I spit directly down on him as my hand moves down his shaft, and he groans again, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail.

That’s my signal to wrap my lips around him and suck.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back for a moment before looking back down at me. My mouth takes him deeper and deeper with each suck, and his hips begin to buck toward me.

He didn’t strike me as someone who would be very vocal during sex, but he’s consistently groaning and letting out soft curses.

After just a minute or two of this, he pulls my head off of him.

“Lay down before I cum in your mouth,” he tells me as I move myself back towards the head of the bed and sit back on my elbows. He crawls over me, kissing my neck, chest, and stomach. “This is all I’ve been thinking about for the past 2 days. Can I take this off?” he asks, referring to my bra.

I nod.

“Words, baby.”

“Please take it off,” I whine. He undoes the clasp and tosses it aside, taking a moment to stare before dipping his head back down and starting to suck on my left nipple.

My breathing picks up as he starts to kiss lower and lower, not breaking eye contact when he removes my skirt and underwear at the same time.

He stares down at my dripping pussy, and although I’m extremely turned on and want nothing more than to fuck him right now, I’m reluctant to open my legs as the reality sets in of what’s happening.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, looking up at me with concern in his eyes.

“I just… haven’t done this in a while. I think I’m nervous,” I tell him quietly.

“I’ve got you, I swear. And if you wanna stop just tell me, okay?”

I nod. I can tell he’s being genuine; he’s not just telling me what I want to hear so he can fuck me. He really cares.

I watch as he opens my legs and hooks them over his shoulders. “You’re drippin for me, huh?” he asks, kissing my inner thighs.

“Mhm. I’ve wanted you so bad,” I barely even have time to finish my sentence before he’s putting his tongue inside my pussy. I gasp and grab his hair, my back arching which only makes him go deeper.

He moans repeatedly as he tongue fucks me, sending vibrations through my core. I’m a moaning mess, my heels are digging into his back, and it only gets worse as he brings his thumb to my clit and starts circling lightly.

“Matt,” I’m on the verge of tears. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, oh my god— “

My orgasm rips through me with no warning, and I’m cumming on his tongue. He doesn’t give me any time to come down before he’s leaning over me, pushing my legs up so my knees are by my face.

“Do you have condoms?” he asks, pushing my hair back.

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean, obviously.”

“So am I,” he says, running his leaking tip over my clit.

I almost scream, I’m so sensitive. He looks so fucking good leaning over me. I grip his arm as he pushes into me. There’s a moment of pain as he fills me up, but it quickly turns to pleasure when he starts thrusting into me.

“Is this okay?” he asks, noticing my face and the tight grip I have on his arm.

“Yeah, just hurt for a second, but please keep going,” I breathe, pulling his head down for another kiss.

His thrusts get harder and faster with each passing minute. He fills me so perfectly, I never want this to end. I feel the coil tighten in my stomach yet again, and my moans get louder and needier.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” he taunts.

Baby. I clench around him and nod. “Uh huh.”

“Ohhh, good girl, keep squeezing my cock like that,” he groans. His thrusts are getting erratic, and his dick begins to twitch inside of me.

I chant his name like it’s the only word I know how to say as another orgasm hits me, and I’m squeezing him hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ohhhhh fuck,” he groans as his own orgasm hits him, and I feel him release inside of me, his head collapsing into my neck.

We stay just like that for a few moments, him inside of me, us both half dead and breathing heavy, before he pulls out, picks me up bridal style, and sets me on the toilet.

“It’s peepee time!” he says excitedly while clapping his hands softly, causing me to crack up.

“You just fucked me and came inside of me and now you’re saying ‘it’s peepee time’? You’re such a freak,” I tell him.

After I finish, we take a quick shower to clean up, and I get unreasonably sad as he starts to get dressed.

I walk him to my front door and he kisses me again. “Let me know your work schedule this week. We’re going out again.”

“Okay, I will,” I smile and nod as I watch him leave.

I’m definitely falling for this guy.

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

this was ridiculously long. i did not intend for that to happen. i really have no intentions of making this a full length series because i have other stories i wanna do and i have a few requests sitting in my inbox, so as the author i am telling you that they lived happily ever after yayyyyy

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo

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grnherbs · 1 year

Text

your own, personal, jesus.

mdni, eighteen plus only.

i want him so fucking bad wtaf. in the same series as rookie!reader

he sits behind you, your legs kicked out and spread as he grips your waist, pulling you closer, the mirror in the corner of his sleek bedroom facing the both of you.

his s.t.a.r.s uniform shirt, rolled up on the sleeves, accentuating the muscled and veined forearms which usually lied below them, his hair tossled over your shoulder as he bites gently into your shoulder, kissing and sucking as he goes.

"you're my favourite rookie" he smirks as he spreads the lips of your pussy open, gathering the clear slick that lies between them, moving up to circle your clit slowly, almost excruciatingly, and you whine quietly around the leather glove forced between your teeth.

"no one spreads these legs like your captain, do they sweetpea?"

he teases again, pace picking up now, causing your legs to feel like jelly, settling back more to have you perched on his laps, his legs between yours, keeping them open, making eye contact with you in the mirror, smirking.

you'd never felt so exposed before, eyes raking over your own body, the black cargos and holsters lining weskers thighs, pressing against your bare body, causing your cheeks to display a shade of red, his hand on your waist as the other continues to please you.

long fingers reach down further now, coming to your opening and pressing a finger inside, stretching you out on the thickness of them, causing a mewled gasp to leave your lips. "there's my good girl, always aiming to please your captain, hm?, practically worshipping my fingers" he moves the hand grasping your waist to turn your jaw, gripping a kiss out of you.

"can my favourite rookie take another finger? just for me?" he awaits your answer, still gently thrusting the one already in you, your brain growing cloudier by the second.

you dumbly nodded to him, clutching at his arm as he inserts another finger into you, the two moving in and out, the raw sound of wetness filling the air, his own hard on pressed against your back, your climax approaching rapidly, watching your body spasm against his.

he sensed the change in your body, a sly chuckle coming out of his mouth. "oh my poor rookie, feeling a little overstimulated? that's just too bad.." he continues to move his fingers in and out of you, free hand grasping your throat more and more, hearing the familiar whines of finish leaving your mouth.

"you're going to cum for your captain, like a good girl, aren't you? going to soak my fingers darling" he coaxed more and more and you rolled your hips in unison with his fingers, feeling it hit you so deep and the sound of your lewdness turning your cheeks an even deeper red.

you nod and gasp out, reaching for his hand on your throat, gripping it for some stability as he drew an orgasm from you, your body shuddering as you spill over his hands, hearing his monotone chuckle in your ears once again.

"good girl, that's it, that's my favourite rookie" he reitterated to you and you nod, brain feeling like jelly and you fall back into him, whining.

"such a good little pet for your captain, look at yourself, all fucked out and we've barely even started, stand up and spread yourself for me darling, i'm going to fuck this cunt now."

#albert wesker imagine #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker #albert wesker smut #resident evil albert wesker #dr wesker #dbd wesker #resident evil wesker #wesker smut #wesker x reader #dbd imagine #dbd smut #dbd mastermind #resident evil imagines #resident evil #resident evil smut #s.t.a.r.s wesker #rookie!reader

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ratcash-wasgud · 3 months

Note

Desperately need more of that loser!Mizu content pookie,,,, 😔 have rebel!reader take her out to a party and Mizu being the most socially awkward dumbfuck

But watching reader get along so well with everyone else and dancing,,, need more girlfailure Mizu

・❥・Loser!Mizu Headcanons II・❥・

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

part 1

Heyyyy lovelies!! I got so many positive feedback over the last one I cried a whole ass river. Which I'm really happy about since I lovelovelove this concept. This turned out to be less than a headcanons post, and leans more towards a fanfic territory, but whatervs.

Nsfw, minors dni plspls.

Okay, enjoy ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mizu was never really a party-animal, which was weird to everyone since most people in basketball team were.

She listened to Taigen's stories about the ones he's been though, but it never really got her interested.

The music is always shit at parties too. She'd rather listen to her own playlists at home...or the playlists she made you and stare at the ceiling. Such fun.

She names them corny stuff like Sighs and Whispers.

Currently though, she is listening with wide eyes and lips pushed together as Taigen tells him about this new party he's planning on going. Why is it different than the other parties he brags about? This time, he heard you'll be there too.

She freaks out.

Still, Akemi encourages her to go, and when she says "Maybe you'll be lucky and get to dance with her" is when Mizu's head explodes.

Yeah, she's going to that party.

She need something to wear though. Something cool, something that screams "I can lift 165 pounds, I'd pay on all the dates and your mom would love me".

In the end though she settles on a graphic shirt, cargo shorts and her big ass shoes. Plus her usual shades as the finishing touch. It screams "I'm afraid to touch tits and I play minecraft unironically" instead of her goal, but whatever.

She needs to threathen herself in the mirror, have about three and a half breakdowns, throw her bag against the wall and scream into a pillow before she finally gets going with Taigen and Akemi, plus Ringo as the driver.

The party is loud, the air smells like sweat, smoke and alcohol and the people here are annoying. Mizu has lost her friends like fifty minutes ago since she came back from the bathroom, and since then she has been lingering in a corner, sipping her beer awkwardly.

Why is it so damn hard to enjoy a party anyways? Better question, what is there to enjoy? The lights make her head ache, the alcohol is shitty, people keep throwing joint and cigarette buds on the floor and it's the third time the DJ's playing-

"Glow!!" She hears a familiar voice scream as the song by Snow Wife starts playing, and she finally notices you.

Her breathing stops alltogether, as she almost crushes the beer in her hand. There you are. The first thing she sees are heart shaped sunglasses covering your pretty, pretty eyes. You have a black cropped tube top on with a leather jacket covering your shoulders.

"Fuck me..." Mizu breathes out, and feels her insides tingle. She means it too. She can't tear her eyes away from you, and the way you chug your drink while dancing. There are people around you, mostly other women in revealing outfits, and one or two guys in slutty tanktops. She wants to sooo badly go over there, but her legs won't move. So instead she does the next best thing. She just watches you dance around, and move yourself to the beat. Your body bounces. Jesus, it fucking bounces. Mizu almost throws up. She agressivley chugs down the rest of her drink and heads to the bathroom.

She stands before the mirror for a couple minutes after washing her face with ice cold tap water. "Fucking pussy." She murmurs as she looks at herself in the reflecting surface. "Why can't I just talk to her?" She says, putting her palms on her face, pulling the skin down. "Why was it so fucking easy to talk to her when we first met? 'Bout fucking bugs and shit... And why is to so damn scary now? It's just her! Her and her...fuckin' tits bouncing, and her collarbones, and she's probably sweaty and..." She starts murmuring to herself, feeling the familiar feeling of arousal hit her system. She splashes her face with water again, and marches out of the bathroom.

When she returns to the main area, she doesn't see you anywhere. Fuck! Is it over? Just like that? Did you leave with someone? Ugh.

Suddenly, Akemi appears next to Mizu, and starts dragging her to somehwere. "Mizu! Come, come! I was like, literally looking around for you for the last likkke...two songs. Totally! I was like "woah, she must've gotten lost" or like something." She says, clearly under the infulence of something plus alcohol. Mizu just groans in an annoyed way as she gets dragged into a room that definetly smells like weed.

Great.

Mizu starts grumbling until she spots you. You're sitting there, on the couch, laughing with Taigen and one of his asshole friends. "Mizu!" Taigen grins when she spots her. It's his usual shiteating, smug grin. "I though you went home or something." Akemi sits down on the couch too, dragging her along.

"Shut up." Mizu rolls her eyes as she flops down, being the most grateful woman ever, since her shades hide that she is literally staring at your lips as you put a blunt between them. She then makes eyecontact with you (or she assumes, since you're both wearing sunglasses), and you offer her the blunt with a small, rapsy chuckle.

She never tried weed before...but the aftertaste of you lips are on that thing, so she takes it withouth hesitation. It burns her throat as she inhales, but she keeps a straight face in order to stay nonchalant. But it's so, so hard. She almost squirms around on the couch when your fingers brush against hers as she passes you back the blunt.

"Soooo Mizu," You send a grin her way as you sit down on the armrest, right next to her. You ass is almost touching her arm. "I've never seen you at a party before. I'm glad you're here now though." You giggle.

She desperately wants to say "I only came now because of you!" but she restrains herself. "Uhhh, by the waaay, Mizu!" Akemi starts again, excitedly bouncing next to her. "D'ya know who I saw? Mikio! He's here too." She says with a tone that is supposed to be teasing, but to Mizu it's fucking annoying.

Mikio?! Mikio. Is she fucking serious? The one ex Mizu has, and never wants to fucking see again, is here?

"Whaaa? You guys know Mikio?" You join in, leaning over the back of the couch, arching on the arm rest. "Yah." Akemi responds casually. Don't say it. Don't you fucking say it. "He's Mizu's ex." Fuck.

Mizu sees you process the information, then you let out a deep, throathy laugh. "Are you fucking serious? Haa!" Akemi joins in the giggling too. "Yep. Mizu dated him when she was like...a senior in highschool I think. They were kinda cute though~"

Mizu wants the ground to swallow her whole. Here she is, with the woman she loves and her annyoing ass high friend, talking about her ex, who basically ruined her when they dated. She didn't even like him, it was all comphet, but when he broke up with her, she turned into a beast for weeks, snapping at anyone who she saw.

"Damn. I didn't know Mizu was into guys." You say, and it makes Mizu's blood stop flowing in her veins. Shit shit shit! Do you think she's straight now? Is she losing her already non existent chance?

"Uh, no, I-" Mizu starts but Akemi cuts her off. "Oh, she was very different back then! She was all girly, look, I think I have a picture." Akemi says and digs out her phone. "Wait, n-no-" Mizu beginst to protest but gets cut off by Akemi again. "Here, look! This was at one of their cute lil' picnics under some apple tree or some shit." Akemi shoves her phone in your face, and you lift your heart shaped sunglasses to see it better.

"Holy shit..." You say, as if in shock. "Mizu, is that really you?" You say, eyes wide in surprise and your eyebrows lifted as high as they can go.

"I uh..." Mizu's cheeks burn in shame. She knows that picture. It was taken a couple days before the brutal breakup. She really was different back then. She wore her hair in a high pony, and loved off the shoulder shirts. She hated herself so much back then. She teared up a little, but she was, again, the world's most grateful woman that she decied to wear her shades.

But you weren't stupid. "Akemi, here." You tossed her your phone as you stood up, knowing the girl's first insticnt will be to start taking goofy pictures at a 90 degree angle. She loves leaving those around in other people's phones. You then look at her, and quickly slide down her shades, discovering her tears. "H-hey, give that-" Mizu starts protesting, but it was too late. You were looking into her teary eyes. Before she could react, you place your own heart shaped ones on her face, and put hers on yours. Then with that, you lift the now barely lit blunt and start walking out. "Mizu's coming with me to check on the other's." You say casually, as if to Akemi and the other's who aren't paying attention, but really, it's to her. Mizu follows you outside, and you lead her to a small balcony. The cold air hits her, making her nose turn red right away. You chuckle and inhale a hit from the blunt.

"Needed some fresh air." You murmur and hold the blunt out for her. Mizu feels her heart throb. Did you really just notice her discomfort and pull her out of there? Oh God. It's just like back then...you're acting like you guys known eachother since forever, and she loves it. She slowly takes the blunt, but just looks at it first.

You chuckle. "You don't have to." You say with a grin but Mizu just shrugs and takes a hit. "Thanks." She whispers and you shoot her a smile. Not a grin, or a smirk. A smile.

"If you don't like places like this, why are you here?" You ask. "Because it's obvious you don't. Did Akemi drag you along?" Is Mizu that transparent? Or can you just read people? Well, whatever it is, Mizu feels oddly vulnerable.

A long silence.

"I wanted to see you." She murmurs, letting the ash fall from the blunt. Your eyebrows lift up, and you cock your head to the side.

"Yeah?"

...

"Yeah." Mizu takes another hit, feeling her insides getting slowly relaxed and passes you back the blunt.

"Hm." You hum. "Why me?" You ask, your tone calm. It still has that usual raspy edge to it, but it's so...soothing. Mizu can't help but wish you'd wisper in her ear.

"I..." Mizu needs to take a deep breath. Fhuuuck it's hard to talk about feelings. "Re...remember when we met at the aquarium?"

"Yep...it was cool. Nobody listens to me ramble about bugs that much." You chuckle, trying to ease the vibes.

"I fell in love with you that day. I..I think, at least." Mizu blurts out, imidiately feeling her whole face burn up. "B-Before you say anything though, I don't expect you to like me back. I don't expect anything. I-I just wanted you to know, beca-" She starts rambling, her voice all shaky, but she suddenly gets caught off by you laughing out loud.

"Jesus, that's such a fucking cute thing to say." You say, slowly pushing her shades up your head, into your hair. "Color me wooed." You say, putting on an amused grin.

Mizu just blinks rapidly, her cheeks turning all the shades of red and crimson. Did...did that really work? How? "I...really?" She manages to croak out.

"Yup." You say, slowly stepping closer. "So what's next, hm? Now that you can expect stuff?"

Mizu can feel her insides shaking. Oh my God. You...you are flirting with her. You. The one who had her in a chokehold for months, the one who was the only one who Mizu could think about while touching herself, the one, single coolest woman ever...

"C-Can I...uh...kiss you?" Mizu asks carefully, and you, instead of an answer, slowly wrap her arms around her slender neck, pulling her down to your level, making her bend over.

"Guess." Fuck. You're so goddamn hot. Mizu decides to don't give a shit about her nerves, and just kisses you. It's an urgent, sloppy and akward kiss, with your teeth clanking sometimes, and she feeling out of rhythm. But it's okay. You still enjoy it. Why? Because she's so cute. Endearing even. The way her lips cling to you, as if you're her salvation, the way her hands depserately grasp at your hips...you feel like getting lost in it. Slowly, she pushed you down, hiding the both of you behind the railing.

"L-Let me...please let me..." Mizu muttered in a breahty, depserate whisper, her long fingers slowly curling around your right breast. Oh, it was so soft, You put a hand on her cheek, caressing it with a smile, and her eyes shined with the now given green light. She yanked down your tupe top, revealing your strapless bra which she got rid of too.

She got mesmerized by the sight of your bare boobs, perky nipples staning proud, as she ran her finger's along it's curve. She imagined them so many times, but they're somehow so much better in reality. Her lips latched around one of the nipples, almost moaning at the feeling of the hard bud agaist her tongue. She started swirling her tongue around it like her life depended on it. Her head was reeling, taking a pause to take your sunglasses off her face, and putting it on the gorund, then getting right back to work. Your soft little sighs, the way your fingers toyed with the loose strands of hair falling out from her bun...it made her soaked already.

"Hah...that's a good girl." You murmur and Mizu can physically feel her slick drip out of her. She can't take it anymore. She let's her hands grip your belt, and they start to unbuckle it.

When she finally manages to slide down your pants, she's met with...cute little panties. Such a contrast to your outfit, but she loves it. She's the only one who knows what kind of panties you're wearing tonight. She starts sliding her fingers up and down your folds through the clotch, as if teasing you, but in reality, Mizu's teasing herself. She can feel the material get more and more wet the more she rubs it. You're body is responding to her...it's aware she's there, and it's aware that she's trying to turn you on.

She lifts her head, fingers hooking the band of your panties. "Please...c-can I just...you know..." Mizu murmurs, but you stop her, putting a hand on her wrist.

"Say it clearly, and I'll let you." You say, her voice low and raspy. It makes Mizu's clit throb. "Otherwise no."

She gulps and licks drool from her lips. "Can I...please, just...taste you? To...eat you out." She croacks out, not even believeing she said that to you, but you just give her a smile in return. You slowly push her down, so that she's laying on the floor, her back hitting the tiles of the balcony. You straddle her chest, and Mizu watches with wide eyes and a baited breath as you slide your panties to the side, revealing your folds and their...their beautiful color, scent and let your slick drip down to her neck.

"Here you go...all for you." You whisper as you lower yourself onto her lips. Her lips lock on your flesh, her hands wrapping around thighs depserately. She quietly moans into your heat, having the time of her life. Oh, you taste so good...and she can feel your juices drip down her throat. The way you keep slowly grinding into her makes her hips buck againts nothing. You notice that though, and lean back onto your hands, and put one of them on her crotch.

You're touching her. You're actually touching her. Mizu feels like she could cum just from this. She keeps lapping at you like a starved woman, legs spreading as if on command as you hand snakes inside her pants. She starts whimpering into your entrance, her tongue pushing inside as you play directly with her clit. It throbs for you, and only for you as your soft fingers circle around, and on it.

"tastes 'sgoood...please fuck me...fuck 'm, please." Mizu keeps mumbling and whimpering against your pussy, pushing her whole face into it, as she pulls you lower, as if she wants to burry and hide in it. You grin, as you slip one gentle finger inside her. You're actually inside her. Fuck, the love of her life is inside her, as her juices drip down her throat, deep into her system.

"Yeah, mhm...good girl." You say breathlessly, slowly pumping two fingers inside her, as you approach her climax. Even if she never done this before, she's very good at eating pussy it seems. You move your fingers faster, curling your fingers, and as Mizu's moans get louder, you push harder against her, muffling her, since there are people on the other side of the door. "Sh...ssh, come on...cum for me." You say, as you feel yourself tipping over the edge.

You don't have to ask twice though, because just from the way you whisper to her, orgasm crashes over Mizu's whole nervous system. She squirms under you, until you slowly pull your finegr out of her.

After going back to the rest of the group, Mizu needs to pretend like she didn't just fuck the girl of her dreams, since that would've made it akward. So she sits down on the couch once again, and keeps quiet, watching you interact with the people around, like you're some magical creature, mesmerizing her.

After Ringo calls her up, tellig her that he's there to pick them up, Mizu collects Akemi and Taigen, and stuffs them inside Ringo's car. You walk her out though, and cheekily press a kiss on her neck before you wave goodbye.

Moments after Mizu gets home, she locks the door behind herself, and lets out the loudest scream ever. A victory scream, if you will.

Right before she gets into the shower, her phone buzzes with a notification. It's from you.

"hey. i had a good time."

"i'm gonna be at the aquarium tomorrow btw."

Mizu blinks at the texts. Did she just get invited to a date? Uh, fuck yeah!

"can't wait."

She texts back, and later that night, she can't help but play the image of what you did with her on that balcony. Her heat aches again, and she can't help but touch herself. But something changed.

It doesn't feel as good anymore...she wants your touch again. She got a small taste of Heaven, and she needs more. She can't wait until the date.

#bes mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #fanfiction #mizu fanfic #bes smut #smut

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togamest · 10 days

Text

5,161 words. gn!reader, hybrid!au, hybrid!reader (calico cat), pirate!hayato. ownership, collars, penetrative sex, fingering (reader!receiving), pet names (angel, kitten), torture (not reader receiving). hybrid!oc side characters. reader is described as thin and malnourished. a/n: god i don’t know what came over me. jesus christ.

I’m gonna murder you.

That was the first thing you thought of when the smugglers stuffed you into this crate. It hadn’t been without injury; you’d gotten a chance to scratch and nip at some of the arms in your vision, with yelps and cursing following. One had swatted at you, which had been met with sharp teeth sinking into his hand. He’d howled in rage, holding his hand as the top of the box had finally been shut and locked. From there, you don’t know where you’d been put; the box was small enough where you’d been cramped, not allowed out unless it was in the captain’s quarters, and even then he’d expected you to sit so still next to him.

Financial success. That was a phrase you’d recognized, one that had been associated with your calico heritage, and was probably the reason why you were on a smuggler’s ship in the first place. Why you were really here was a mystery, kept from you, which suited you perfectly fine. You didn’t need to know why you were there, only that you had to escape somehow. Something deep within you had told you that this ship was cursed; and the growing quiet outside, eerily silent, did not speak of a smooth journey. Most ships in this star system were bustling, even during the long journey. This one was quiet…too quiet.

Sure enough, all of a sudden, there seemed to be a much more intense commotion going on outside. Cannons were going off, an awful, acrid smell spreading down to your little hovel in the base of the ship. It made your nose twitch, but you knew with a sinking feeling who it was attacking the ship. Who else could it be?

PIRATES.

Your hands were pressed over your ears, doing their best to hide the noise from outside but did little to protect your hearing. Your tail, tight around your body due to your confining box, couldn’t help but twitch whenever you heard a cannon go off. From the suddenly loud footfalls above you, it sounded like the pirates had managed to get on deck. Gurgling and heavier thuds permeated the sounds, as well as cackling noises from the intruders, and then…silence.

Gentle footfalls broke the quiet, and you braced yourself as they began to move around above you, stepping down stairs and sounding as if they were in the same room as you. You tried to make yourself small in the box, as small as possible in the corner as you hear someone scrabbling at the box. “Boss!” you hear a voice say, “Looks like they got some pricey cargo. Sounds like a smuggler ship to me.”

Another voice chimes in, smoother. “Open it.”

You clap your hand over your mouth, resisting the urge to snarl. You’d been hit for that, and you weren’t keen on being hit again over it.

A jingle of keys, and the box opens in the front. Light streams in, and you have to blink several times for your eyes to adjust before heads crowd the opening. You can’t make out details, but you do hear whispering between them; the special scent of other hybrids hits your nostrils, making you want to curl further into yourself. Hybrid and poor thing and why were they smuggling this are thrown around, before the heads clear and a singular man squats down in front of you.

He’s gorgeous.

Tasseled earrings swish as he kneels. The one eye you can see has nothing but kindness in it, a strange emotion to see in the eyes of a pirate captain. His garb is typical of a captain as well; a black coat with golden lapels, black pants and black boots scuffed from many adventures. The eye patch over his other eye is frayed as well, needing a good stitching.

He doesn’t say anything, only rakes his gaze over you. You don’t even realize you’re shaking until his hand reaches in, and you resist the urge to bite him. Unlike the smugglers, he doesn’t seem to have any ill will for you. His movements are slow, easy to anticipate, something you appreciate after the harsh, rapid movements of the smugglers.

“Good,” he whispers, as if he can tell you’re holding back.

His hand finally stops in front of your nose.

Is he…letting me smell him?

He doesn’t move, so you lean forward just a little, sniffing at his palm. It smells musky, like a strong cologne you’ve smelled before but can’t put your finger on it. It sends an electric shock through your system, almost as if you were meant to be found by him. Something about this feels fated somehow, and unconsciously, you move forward and push your head underneath his hand.

His touch is soft as he scratches between your ears, the contact forcing a rough purr out of your throat as you slowly move forward. You don’t leave the box, but you do let him pet you. That’s enough for you right now; feeling someone’s gentle touch against you, raspy purrs in your chest.

“Captain?”

One of the shipmates speaks behind the man in front of you, who looks back. “Yes?”

“Are we…takin’ it with us?”

“It?” The captain’s tone is sharp all of a sudden, like a knife. The atmosphere thickens.

There’s an audible gulp. “I, uh…them, I guess.”

The captain nods, turning back to you and coaxing you out of the box. Your legs feel cramped after having been stuck in that box for so long, and you can’t help but stretch out, groaning at the snaps and cracks and pops of your joints. Your tail swishes behind you, low to the ground, as you extend your arms out in front of you, your short claws digging into the wood as you wriggle out all the cramps.

“Can you stand?” the captain asks you, offering his hand. You nod, not up for speaking just yet as you grab his hand, standing on wobbly legs. You’re shorter than him, somehow, considering he can’t be more than five and a half feet tall, so you look up at him with big, brown eyes, waiting for what he’ll do next.

You go to take a step with him, and almost instantly, your vision blurs and darkens. Someone catches you, you presume the captain as he barks an order at the shipmates that had been surrounding him. The blood rushing to your head is too much, having not been on two legs for so long, that you let the darkness drift you away, hoping when you wake that you’ll be in a safer place.

A sentence meets your ears, causing them to twitch just before you go under.

I’ll take good care of you, kitten.

You awaken to fuzziness pushing against your cheek.

Immediately, you start, before grimacing and feeling the wooziness still in your head, your hand reaching up to press against the painful spot. It seemed to be a headache; you can’t recall the last time you’d eaten properly, only being forced to consume bathwater and moldy food. Your stomach felt small, so incredibly small, and you knew you looked thin as well. Not like you’d been chubby at any point of life, but starvation and malnourishment had done a number on you.

Upon inspecting the bed you’re lying on, it’s covered in fluffy, warm blankets that smell similar to the musk of the captain. There’s food as well, the scent hanging in the air and forcing you to lean over to the side table. A plate with piping hot food (what looks to be a stew) and a tall glass of water sit, ready to be devoured.

You can’t help but drool a little, wiping the spit on your chin as you go to take a bite of the stew. You’d never had stew before, only heard stories about how many ingredients it has and how rare some of them can be to harvest. As the food hits your palette, you can’t help but hum at the heartiness of it, the warmth spreading through your body. The water follows the food, eliciting a sigh as you take another scoop of stew—

You drop the spoon in the bowl as you hear the door open, chattering from the deck seeping in past the doorframe. Luckily, it’s just the captain as he shuts the door quickly behind him, before approaching your bed.

The draft from the open door hits your skin, and you pull one of the blankets around you, redness flushing your face. I didn’t realize he’d taken my clothes. Not that they were “clothes” in the traditional sense to begin with; they had been scraps at best, hanging off of your thin frame, but feeling them gone and you bare in front of him felt wrong.

He has a soft smile on his face, his earrings tinkling as he walks. He seems to ignore the fact that you’re naked, too, which you appreciate. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, and you nod, still a little bashful. You’re probably too trusting of him so quickly, but…something about him makes you feel relaxed.

He sits on the edge of the bed, beckoning you close. You move as if attached by a magnet to his hand, pushing your head underneath it and purring as he gives you some scratches. There’s a noise of a bell somewhere, and you feel his hand brush against the soft skin of your neck, reaching for the ratty leather collar that the smugglers used.

You almost forgot about it, but you can’t resist hissing as his hand goes to grab it, jerking back. “No!” you cry out, and he releases the collar immediately, holding both of his hands in view. There’s something sad in his eyes, that makes you soften again, the bristling on your head relaxing. “Sorry,” you rasp, “’m sorry. Just…sensitive.”

He nods. “Can I remove it?” he asks. You nod.

He asks for permission at every turn, asking to rub the redness from your neck when the collar comes off. He adds some medicine to the burn, tutting. “Those smugglers had no idea how to take care of you, did they?” he questions, mostly to himself, but you shake your head anyway. You don’t remember much before the ship, mostly hiding in alleyways and making a name for yourself. You’d managed to hide your hybrid elements for a while, but the smugglers always find out eventually. It’s how they work.

Your eyes slide closed at his movements, his firm touches against your sensitive neck, and his cooing voice in your ear, telling you it’s going to be okay. One sentence remains as you drift off, feeling yourself grow tired after eating your fill of the soup and being freed of that disgusting collar.

Call me Hayato, angel.

Hayato was as fierce as he was kind, however.

You’d gotten used to accompanying him to meetings, sitting next to him obediently. He’d given you a much nicer collar, a black one with a shiny silver bell on the front of it, tinkling whenever you moved. He’d dressed you in much higher quality clothes, as well; similar to his own garb, you’d gotten a black jacket, white shirt, black pants and black boots. Thankfully, he never found a reason to give you a leash, and you stayed close to him enough where it wouldn’t matter. You weren’t a canine hybrid, after all.

However, today, there was an interrogation.

Of one of the smugglers they’d captured.

You’d sat, curled up in your seat as Hayato stalked around the smuggler in question. He’d been beaten before he’d been brought in, sores and welts disfiguring his face. However, he recognized you, and that led to where he is now; at the bad end of Hayato’s whip, lashing out whenever the smuggler gave him an answer he didn’t like.

“What were you doing with them?” Hayato asks sternly, pointing to you. The smuggler clams up, shaking his head. “Can’t—can’t tell,” he stammers out, and the tension in the room skyrockets. It’s almost hard to breathe as you stare at the man through slitted eyes, your ears pinned to your head as you hiss at him. He winces again, and flinches as Hayato squats next to him. The shipmates around him are bristling, almost waiting for the command to tear him to pieces.

You’d noticed, recently, that many of the shipmates were also hybrids. There’s a wolf hybrid, always barking at one of the golden retrievers that never seemed to be able to mop the deck fast enough for him. He had a massive scar up his snout, crossing one of his eyes and rendering it blind, his ears and tail jet black shot through with red (that you imagined he dyed himself). The retriever was larger, more stout with big brown eyes, and much more of a yapper. It was like watching night and day.

That meant this was personal for Hayato. He had a stake in this.

You made a mental note to ask him why he kept rescuing hybrids, but it seemed as though he did it for justice more than anything else as he lashes the man once more, a wail tearing itself from the injured man’s throat as a massive welt appears on his bare back, blood oozing to the surface.

“Can’t tell me? You know your captain has been killed, correct?” Hayato’s tone is clipped.

The man gasps. “No! He’d never go down that easy to the likes of you,” he spits, and Hayato’s face splits into a smile. A smile that a carnivore would have, when its prey has caught itself in a trap right in front of it.

“Never? Well, he seemed to go down quite easily before the barrel of my gun.”

The smuggler gulps. “F-Fine,” he stammers after a moment, “what do you want?”

Hayato sighs. “I asked you already. What did you want with this hybrid? Come now, keep up.”

The smuggler looks back up at you, and smirks, having a lick of courage flashing in his eyes. It made your blood feel cold*.* “That one? Oh, they’re a pretty one. Pro’lly had it on there so the captain could stick his cock somewhere—”

The blow that lands on his face is loud, a crrrrrack echoing through the cabin as the man slumps, gasping, almost unconscious. Hayato’s face is stern, a rage in his eyes that looks like fire. He doesn’t shake or flinch, but moves in a calculating way as he shifts to be right in the man’s vision. “Disgusting,” he says, spitting on the man’s face, which is met with a faint groan, “fucking disgusting. People like you deserve nothing in this world. Would you have even asked for consent, or do you also think you’re entitled to that as well?”

You’ve curled inside of yourself as soon as you heard the words the man had spoken. The lust in his voice was clear, and you couldn’t help but want to hide, hide away from prying eyes and from anyone who saw you as a pretty little hole. It made you feel dirty, and thankfully nothing had happened before Hayato had arrived, but…what if he hadn’t? What would your fate have been?

The smuggler coughs, blood spraying on the floor. You look over at the wolf, and notice the drool dripping from his mouth. He can smell the blood, of course he can; and he looked like he’d want nothing better than to devour the man in front of him. His teeth are digging into his lip, and the retriever’s hand moves to grip the wolf’s, noticing his tail swishing.

The smuggler grins through the blood. “’Course ‘m entitled. It was my property, yeah? I could do whatever I want to it, and so could the captain.”

The rage that’s swirling in Hayato’s eyes only strengthens as he looks up and glances at the wolf, meeting his feral eyes. The wolf’s muscles are ramrod straight, and he’s shaking at having to hold himself back. The retriever does his best, but it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.

Hayato says nothing, turning on the smuggler and moving to you, instead, worry clouding his eyes as the rage dispels. He moves in a way where you can’t see the smuggler anymore, and kneels down in front of you, cupping your face.

He removes one hand, and snaps his fingers, the crisp noise echoing around the cabin.

Within an instant, you see the wolf charge in, claws tearing at any part of the man that he can get his hands on from the noises that elicited from the movements you could barely see. His nails are long, never cut but only sharpened and fine-tuned, like ten small blades attached to his fingers. Blood sprays all over the cabin, the man’s screams echoing around the cabin.

You see none of it. Hayato sits in front of you, taking up all of your vision, his big eyes staring deeply into your own. There’s safety there. “Look at me,” he whispers, and you comply, because how could you not when someone who barely knew you fought for you without needing a reason? Even if there had been a reason, you had a feeling that Hayato would have done it anyway.

The retriever moves in after the wolf is done and silence has fallen, cleaning up after him. The wolf staggers back, and you attempt to peek over Hayato’s shoulder, who gently moves your face back to look at him. “Don’t look at him,” he says softly, “I don’t want you to see this. Just know that he’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

You shivered. “Okay.”

That night, you can’t help but hear the man’s screams.

The clean-up after had been out of your vision as well, the retriever doing his best to keep you out of the cabin. It had been difficult, but due to his brawn there was no way you could have forced your way in. So, instead, you chose to lounge in Hayato’s quarters, which you’ve now discovered is where you’d woken up. You chose your own bed instead, having had it closer to the door, and you’d toppled onto it to sleep.

You dreamed of terror, horribly vivid dreams with hands touching you where you didn’t want them. Voices telling you you belong to me, I can do what I want echoing through your brain. You couldn’t talk back, or hiss or scream for help; your vocal chords were shot, tightened, frozen in place.

You’d woken up in a pool of sweat, shaking and shuddering in the middle of the night. The ship was moving gently along the galactic current, the stars outside bringing soft light into the cabin. There was a planet you were passing, its bright aura dousing the cabin in a pretty glow of orange and purple.

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you crawled over to Hayato’s bed. You felt terrible asking him to soothe you, but you simply shed your clothes and crawled under the covers with him, thinking nothing of it.

Instead, Hayato’s eyes fluttered open as you slid under the blankets, getting yourself comfortable. “Are you alright?” he rasps, blinking sleepily as he drags you to him, a soft yelp falling from your lips at the movement, before smoothing into his grip. “Nightmare,” you whisper, and his grip on your only tightens. The bell around your throat jingles.

“Oh, angel,” he whispers, scratching that space between your ears that he knows you love, “it’s alright. I’m here. None of those bastards will ever lay a hand on you again, I promise.”

It’s silent for a moment, before your mind begins to wander.

You can feel that Hayato is only dressed in sleep pants, and for some reason, that makes you feel warm. Something stirs inside of you, your stomach tight as you turn to look at him. Whatever is in your eyes makes his grow dark, and he grins. “Do you need me to take care of you?” he asks, and you nod. There was something about having Hayato do what the men in the nightmare did; call it reclaiming power or whatever you’d like, but having it with the person you trusted the most (currently) felt like it was wiping away the previous horrible ordeals you’d been through.

His lips slot against your own so gently that you almost don’t notice, and a purr is shared between your connected mouths as his tongue slides against your lips, asking for entrance. It licks into your mouth, hot and wet and strong, easily taking control from you. Your tail swishes against the covers, and your thighs clench at the motion.

“My pretty little kitten,” he murmurs against you, “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

His hands drift, down to your hips as his nails sink into the skin. The motion has you trembling against him, small ah’s escaping your mouth as he breaks the connection between you two, looking at you like you’d hung all the stars in the galaxy. He looks at you in a way he doesn’t look at anyone else, and it makes your chest feel warm.

As he maneuvers above you, you can’t help but blurt out, “My first time. This, uh…this is my first.”

He stops dead in his tracks, gaze hot on your lithe body. “I’m your first?”

You nod hesitantly. “B-But I do want this. With you. Promise.” You don’t know how else to say it, or how else to beg for it because now that he’s kissed you, you need him everywhere. Particularly, between your legs, where you can feel wetness beginning to build between your thighs. Who cares if it’s going to be something you regret? Right now, it felt right to reward the person who’d saved you twice over.

He pauses for a moment, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate. Then, he smiles, moving back to your lips and capturing you in a long kiss, teeth clacking together. You sink your canines into his lip, just enough to indent the skin, and he groans into your mouth.

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, moving down to spread your legs in front of him. You feel your ears twitch as he does so, gazing at your center and how it drips onto the blankets beneath you both. There’s a flush on your cheeks, you can feel the warmth on them as he reaches out and runs a long, thin finger through your lips, from your center up to your throbbing clit.

As soon as his finger taps your nub, you jolt, your hips unconsciously bucking into his own grip. There’s a grin that splits across Hayato’s face, and he doubles down on the movement, leaning over you to get closer, his lips hovering inches above your own. His eyes are blown wide, almost black with lust as he watches you unfold beneath him.

The whines and whimpers that fall from your mouth aren’t in your control; you can only react to him, shuddering and shaking beneath him as he continues his movements. “Have you ever cum before?” he whispers, and you shake your head. You’d never touched yourself, either; it’s not like you had the time for self exploration, and Hayato can certainly tell with how sensitive you are. It’s almost like you’ve been pent up, all this time, your need pacing the grounds of a cage, yowling to be let out.

He smiles at you. “I’m going to make you, don’t worry,” he says gently, “get you nice and ready for me.”

You can feel it, the arousal, tightening in your stomach like a spring. It’s all so much that tears are pricking at your eyes, dribbling down your cheeks as you sob. “Feels ‘s good, Hayato,” you whine, and his smile only grows as he picks up the pace, his fingers rolling and pushing against you. “Good, angel,” he responds, “now, can you cum for me? Can my pretty kitten cum for me?”

You’d never been one to follow commands, being a feline hybrid, but something about his voice had you spurting all over the blankets without a second thought, a cry ripping itself from your throat as you cum. He watches you do so, his gaze a burning fire that’s tearing through you, watching your body jerk and shake and shudder beneath him as you ride out your high. You can’t tear your eyes from him, not with how intense he looks and how happy he looks, his pride for you written obviously all over his face.

His fingers leave you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before he’s there again above you, lips attached to you.

“You did so wonderfully, angel,” he says against you, his hands pulling off his pants, “so, so good for me.”

Your head is light, as if there was a dam broken that suddenly made you feel like you were walking on air. When his cock brushes against your center, you wince, feeling the head prod against you. “T-too big,” you manage to get out, and he pulls you in close, bracketing your head with his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead.

“We can stop if you want to,” he says softly, but you shake your head. Now that you’ve gotten a taste…you need to feel him inside of you. Claiming you. “No, it’s okay,” you manage to get out, and he holds you close as he positions himself, slowly breaching the ring of tight muscles.

“Just relax, kitten,” he says, “relax and let me in. Let me make you feel good.”

Your breaths are deep, following his motions as oxygen flows in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly, you feel him enter, and while it does burn, it doesn’t hurt. In fact, his cock slides in relatively easily thanks to the wetness lining your walls, and—God.

“S’ full,” you moan, and his forehead drops to your own as he pants. You can feel him restraining himself from slamming into you, adjusting to you. “You’re so tight,” he whispers, “hugging me so good, angel. Fuck.”

You stay that way for some moments, connected so divinely that you could’ve fallen asleep right there with Hayato’s cock keeping you nice and open, but that was a pipe dream. Instead, he slides out so slowly that every ridge of his cock rubs against your walls, and when he slides back in, the head hits this part inside of you that feels spongey and feels so good. You let out a shudder and a high-pitched squeal as he slides in and out faster, and when you look at him, he’s grinning. You don’t think he’s stopped grinning and smiling this entire time.

“Holy shit, kitten,” he pants, “don’t wanna cum too fast. Wanna feel you more.”

You nod, sighing as he sheaths himself inside of you once again. “Faster. Please, Hayato? Make me cum again?”

He pauses, looking at you questioningly. “Are you sure?”

You nod far too quickly. “Yes. Promise.”

The next snap of his hips has you seeing stars, bullying against that spot within you that makes you feel warm and tight and ready to explode all over him again. The pace is fast, but it’s not brutal; it’s like a ship, swaying and prodding and pounding rhythmically, like a song. Like a galactic song that’s been known across space and time.

He pushes himself up onto his palms, sweat dripping onto you as he rails into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, cupping your face with one hand and keeping himself up on the other. Skin slaps against skin, and your moans and whines all but spur him on to moving even faster. Your mind is unraveling with every thrust, every prodding movement to that spot within you only making you wetter. Squelching noises echo around the cabin, and your thighs clench around Hayato, your ankles unconsciusly locking behind him.

“G-Gonna cum, Haya,” you mumble, and his eyes screw shut as he lets out a groan that’s so loud that you expect half the ship can hear you both (if they couldn’t already). “Cum on my cock, kitten,” he says, panting and opening his eyes and looking directly at you, “I know you can do it.”

And you do. This one hits you even harder than the last, your vision almost whiting out as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Along with your walls trembling around him, you can feel Hayato growing close; you’re not sure exactly what it looks or feels like when a fully-human man comes, but with the stuttering of his hips and the way his cock feels inside of you, it’s no secret he’s about to finish as well.

So, you find some crude bravery as you lean up and whisper in his ear.

“Cum inside of me, Hayato.”

He gasps. “Oh, fuck,” he gets out, trembling, before he’s spurting inside of you with a growl that makes every hair on your body stand up. He starts babbling against you, the dirty words weaving their way into your mind and making you shudder and shake around him as you finish together.

“Fuck, gonna fill this pretty little hole. You’re mine, you’re all mine, nobody else can touch you but me. Only me. This is my little hole, only mine, mine, mine.”

Eventually, his arms collapse and he drops onto your chest, heaving and panting as he presses a kiss to your chest. You’re no better, drawing in deep breaths as you come back to center, your vision clearing as you feel the blankets underneath you and Hayato’s body stuck to your own through sweat and other bodily fluids.

You lay like that for some time, his hand lazily scratching between your ears, pressing small kisses to your shoulder where he can reach without moving. He looks up at you then, a stupid grin on his face. It’s almost dopey.

“I never thought I’d meet a hybrid like you,” he says, and you scrunch your nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you shoot back, and he lets out a giggle that makes your chest feel warm and cozy. His hand cups your face, and he pulls you down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Only that I adore you.”

The sentence wraps itself around you, holding you comfortably as he cleans you both up, changing the blankets and producing fresh ones. You nestle into the bed, Hayato’s arms wrapping around you tightly, as if someone was going to crash into the cabin and take you away from him.

At least, that’s probably what he thought.

Feeling safe in his arms, you drift off, feeling more safe than you’ve felt in years.

He adores me.

And he does.

divider credit: @/benkeibear networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

#suou hayato x reader #hayato suou x reader #wind breaker x reader #tw hybrids #📝 ari's autographs

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simply-ewok · 17 days

Text

ghost always has a knack for making you beg for him at the worst moments. the moments that your begging has to be through silent pleas that only he can see.

like when you're being briefed for a mission, and when everyone is too focused on the board in front of them to notice the two of you, he grabs the fat of your ass underneath all of your gear in a quick, firm pinch, and it's enough to cause a quiet gasp from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

so you turn your head to peer at him behind you. only you failed to realize just how close he was in your proximity, and you are met with his torso towering over you, and the hand you assumed he had used to grab your ass with was clenching his vest, innocently.

it's been a week of nothing between you, and suddenly now he chooses to act? you're annoyed at his choice of timing. he's not even looking at you. his eyes are glued to the mission details in front of the squad. so you let your gaze linger, just to let him know you're not playing this game with him at this moment.

but you have to admit, he always looked so delectable all geared up.

his armoured chest and tactical gear decorating his body, and the black paint he's swiped across his eyes which peer forward in a steely gaze beneath his mask. it's enough to make you bite your lip, and he notices it before you're able to look forward.

in the brief moment of you checking him out, he moves his hand, sliding his gloved fingers down his torso and to his waist, where he readjusts his bulge for you. your cheeks swell with warmth as you blush. then you feel the ache in your stomach as your arousal grows for him. he's teasing you so simply and you both know it, and yet it has an overwhelming affect on you.

as if that wasn't enough to get you going before, ghost shifts his weight and brushes up against your waist from behind, and while leaning down ever so slightly, he raises his fingers to your chin to direct it forwards.

there's a strong flutter from between your legs and you clench your thighs to subdue it. but it's too late. he's got you right where he wants you, and with no where to run.

no one pays you two any mind as you're both stood in the back of the dimly lit room. you always knew him to be quite bold with his interactions, however, this was a first.

as his fingers slip away from your jawline you squirm in place, your own fingers shifting to fiddle with the holster straps around your chest. your feet shuffle beneath you. you begin to take a deep breath when you suddenly feel him press his crotch onto the curve of your back. even through his thick cargo pants you can feel how warm his body is, and how hard the pulse in his cock was beating through them.

if only you were alone together so you could tear them off of him.

without missing a beat it's like he's read your mind. ghost carefully and silently wraps an arm around you to take your small wrist in his much bigger hand, guiding it down your side and pulling the palm of your hand against his zipper.

he releases a low raspy groan for only your ears to hear as he forces you to work over his growing bulge. jesus, he's big.

he silently demands you to begin undoing his pants, all while both of your eyes are locked to the front, where coordinates are brought up of the places you'll be relocated to soon. but it's getting so hard to focus as ghost guides your fingers across his zipper and you pull it downward for him, because you're his obedient girl. his hand leaves yours for a brief moment as you finish undoing him blindly, and suddenly you feel the rough material of his pants give way as he undoes the button on his waistband.

immediately his cock dips into your palm, the tip of it already dripping for you, twitching, as you ever so softly begin to squeeze it.

your pussy is throbbing at the sensation of him. even worse, he already knows how swollen your lips are from the arousal, how your clit is begging to be played with, all while your warm, perfect slit is soaking your panties. it's all enough to push you over the edge as your blushing cheeks intensify, the corners of your eyes crystallizing small tears of frustration as you look behind you once more.

only this time, ghost's eyes are piercing into yours when you meet his gaze. he wants you just as badly as you do him, and he makes it all too well known by thrusting into your hand, dripping his sticky, self lubricant all over your fingers.

you pout for him, flashing him your big eyes, please, simon. i can hardly stand this..

then he does the worst thing in that moment.

as quickly as it all began, he pulls back, tucking himself back into his pants. he leaves you there, your hand still behind your back with your fingers folding into your palm to conceal the precum he left for you, and takes a step away. you can only continue to eye him in, although this time it's in distaste, all while he ignores your fiery, lingering gaze as his eyes meet the front once more.

just in time for the lights to come on again, and for the final statements to be read to the group before everyone's dismissed.

but before you're able to leave, ghost grasps your arm to stop you.

"meet me at our usual spot... you didn't think i'd let you go that eas'ly, did you, love?"

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in-daddy-price-we-trust · 1 year

Text

All I Wanted - Part 1

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence

Part 2

A/N: this is like my first fanfic in a while, and first on tumblr (yay!) any tips and tricks would be so helpful!

this also plans to be a series but posting might and will be inconsistent, thank you in advance!

You always had a difficult life. Being abused by your parents up until you ran away at 13. After you ran away, you got in with the wrong type of people, promises of hope and money, food and validation was all they needed to say to get you hooked in their business of organised crime. Some good came out of it however, they gave you a home and how to defend yourself. They taught you how to shoot a gun and the best place to make someone bleed. They taught you nothing else mattered except them, they became your new family.

You were 15 when you were tasked with transporting a couple crates of weaponry and drugs. The organisation you joined knew you well enough and practically raised you to be the strongest you were. So one cargo ship to Amsterdam later, you find yourself in a rotting, metal warehouse, wearing pink apparel, pink puffy skirt and a white hello-kitty shirt. A baby pink cardigan is draped over your shoulders and over-the-knee white knitted socks. A chrome covered knife strapped to your thigh.

“Zus, how much for it all?” he stood across from you, a cigarette lit between his lips taking a long drag as you assessed his question. His black, slicked back hair elongated his face and the three piece suit almost made this deal professional.

“How much are you offering?” was all you said as a small smile graced your lips, ‘the higher the offer, the better’ you remember being told before you left. They weren’t the best weapons but they were definitely worth at least a couple K.

“25”

a grimace, “80”

a growl, “40”

a hum, “55”

“65. Final offer,” his teeth were bared, almost like he was sweating already.

A sinister, sweet smile stretched across your face, “Wonderful, and how are you wanting to transfer that?” out of seemingly nowhere you pulled out a notepad and pen, writing down the bank details before you gave him a pointed look, “You have one week to transfer the money, or I will have your head.”

His face paled, almost embarrassingly so. For how innocent you appeared to be, you knew how to handle yourself in these situations. You turned to walk away, the sound of baby pink mary janes clacking against the concrete as you bounced towards the rusted metal doors, sliding them open as you looked back at the man one final time, “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” and leaving.

You were good at your job. It was easy, for the most part. Gather intel, pass forward that intel. Transfer somewhat illegal items from one holder to another. So it comes to you as a bit of a surprise when you exit through the dusty doors when a bullet wizzes past your face, luckily just missing you. Swiftly pulling out the hand-gun out your waistband and shooting in their direction. You wish you had your sniper, but it was left in the hotel room you managed to stay at.

As you shot in the direction of the fire, you failed to notice someone sneaking out behind you, kicking your knees in. Dirt caked your socks as the grip on your gun became loose. Acting as quick as possible, you flipped onto your back, retching the knife from its holster. Before you could act, black invaded your vision as you felt pain shoot from your head. Shit.

White light invaded your vision, a grumbled swear leaving your dry lips at the pounding in your head. "Jesus Christ," your wrists hurt, rubbed raw by the shitty metal handcuffs they strapped you in, "Whose bedroom did you get these out of? Couldn't even afford good quality cuffs?" fell out of your mouth before you could think to stop it. No one reacted.

It was a van, you could tell that much. The interior white with small wooden benches lining it. Two men sat on either side of you whilst the other two sat across. From what you could make out, another pair sat at the front, driving to this unknown destination.

Maybe you should have been more scared. More begging for them not to hurt you. Four big, burly military men could definitely kill you much easier than you kill them.

They studied you like you studied them. The one on your left was most likely the oldest, a fisherman's hat upon his head and mutton chops-moustache combo was the dead give away. He had his eyes closed and arms crossed across his chest, legs spread wide.

You couldn't make out the one on your right quite as well. A black balaclava with painted white skeletal teeth paired well with the upper half of the skull mask he wore. He seemed to be in a similar position as grandpa, although he had an ankle resting on his knee instead, head tilted back against the cool metal of the van.

The two across from you seemed younger. One had a darker complexion, his eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression. He was smaller than the rest but no doubtfully as strong.

Lastly was the man with a mohawk. His eyes bore into you the most, not so angry and more trying to figure out who you were. Breaking you apart and putting you back together with his eyes. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. His face morphed into one of slight surprise before rolling his eyes and looking towards the front.

It was quiet. The hum from the light ticking like a clock in your ear. Trying to gauge where you were and how much time had passed, your foot started tapping on the floor.

"Stop," A gruff voice said suddenly making you jump before mumbling a sorry at the skull-faced man. It was quiet again. It numbed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Gravel sounded under the tires before voices outside sounded, signalling your arrival.

The doors pulled open, sunlight shining in. As mohawk and shorty left, skully pulled your arm to tug you along out with him, a short yelp escaping past your lips at the action.

You tripped over your feet, pins and needles shooting up your legs from sitting for so long. "Can you be gentle?" you spoke as you found your footing, "Please?" it was tacked on at the end for at least the tiniest bit of sympathy.

Skully looked down at you as he continued to drag you towards what you hoped was a five-star hotel with bed and breakfast. At least your death would be a quick one.

The halls blurred together until you were sitting in a leather chair in someone's office, back to the door, although you felt the looming presence of the men behind you. Mutters were heard outside before the door clicked opened, footsteps and a click again.

Gramps stood in front of you, leaning over the dark stained oak table. He had a file in his hand, putting it on the desk before sliding it over to you. "What do you know of El Sin Nombre?" it wasn't as much of a question than you'd like but an order for information.

Your mouth was so dry it felt like you swallowed cotton. As much as you wished to answer him, you look at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression. It took you a couple minutes before words formed in your throat, "Who?".

He didn't enjoy that answer. One of his hands slapping on the desk as he seethed, repeating the question again as if that would change your answer.

"I don't know who that is! I can't help you," you felt that burning sensation under your eyes as you desperately tried to convey your emotions. Tears meant weakness, and that's the one thing you didn't want to show to your captors right now.

Pairs of eyes hammered into your head. You felt like a child again, staring down at your toes being told off for not doing the dishes or not being quick enough to grab a beer. You braced for the hits, the punches to your ribs as you made promises that fell on the deaf ears of your mother and father.

"Price," A voice sounded behind you, soft and comforting. An accent coated the words that flowed through the air you didn't pick up on. The more time passed the more your eyes stung, tears slipping past your defences. Shoulders shaking as you try to curl into yourself, strings of "I don't know" and "I'm sorry" being nothing more than mumbles.

The room grew cold and quiet as you sobbed. Footsteps couldn't be heard over your own cries, so when an arm wrapped around your shoulders, you jolted. Expecting this is where you get hit. Bracing for the impact and sting they usually brought with them.

Instead, the arm pulled you into their chest, hugging you close and stroking your hair, along with shushing you softly. It only made you sob harder. When was the last time someone hugged you like this? Sure, you got the occasional pat on the back for a job well done, but never an embrace like this.

Time passed through your fingers like sand, not knowing how long you sat there for before you calmed down. The arms didn't pull away until you did, cringing at the wet patch you left on the man's shirt. Speaking of, you looked up to see mohawk looking down at you, eyes soft and an equally soft smile. "Y're alright now lass?" his accent leaked into the words, a curt nod allowing him to pull away and stand up again.

A heavy sigh sounded above you as you dragged your eyes up to meet who you presumed was this 'Price' figure. "What’s your name?"

Gears turned over the question in your head, thinking of an answer. Technically, you lost your name when you left home, gaining a couple new names at the gang.

Your silence was taken for an answer. "What are you doing in Amsterdam?" this you could answer.

"A business exchange. I'm just the messenger, I don't know any of the customers - I promise! - I just get the money and dip. I promise I can't help you-" you were hyperventilating at this point.

"It's alright sweetheart, deep breaths, calm down for me, yeah?" Price's voice was gentle now, seemingly not wanting the same thing to happen.

"Can you tell us where you're from? Who you work for?" He asked once he saw you calm down.

"Uhm- I'm from England. And I don't really work for them but I'm a doberman. They're some organisation that took me in," you weren't really interested in going into full depths of your life with these complete strangers.

Although, you felt the gazes lift off you and onto Price, his own eyes looking back at his men, a million silent conversations happening right above your head. Price inhaled sharply before he asked his last question, "How old are?"

"15." The air knocked out of his lungs.

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #141 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod #call of duty fanfic #x reader

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honestsycrets · 5 months

Note

hi sy! first things first, you’re a fantastic writer. i am in LOVE with your western series! second, may i request an idea? it’s the 1920s, and miguel is one of the top mobsters in nueva york, while the reader is his mob wife. after an attempted hit from one of miguel’s rivals that nearly kills her and gabriella, the reader decides it’s time to her and little girl to skip town, but miguel will be damned if his family tries to leave him. cueeeee angst, drama, the whole shabang!

canary I: a threat | [miguel o'hara x reader x gabriel o'hara]

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x reader, gabriel o'hara x reader

❛ type | double shot; 5k

❛ tags | non-monogamy, some angst, 1920s inspired piece, irish clan inspired piece, bootlegging and mention of hits, explicit, a depiction of killings, some jealousy, some trad-roles elements, f!reader, 1920s slang and Spanish not translated, time period birth control (cervical cap).

❛ sy’s notes | i have spent weeks staring at this piece. it's a bit longer than my usual works and for that reason i decided to split it up into two chapters. this piece takes on a little bit more of a generalized irish mob approach rather than italian. this chapter is more domestic than the subsequent one will be.

Miguel O’Hara hated it when his kills ran. No matter how many alleyways they ducked into, shoddily constructed fences they tumbled over, or crappy cars they tried to hitch a ride in, he always found them.

His fingers were blisteringly tight around his kill’s throat, sure to leave certain bruising if the man made it out alive. He wouldn’t. Not based on the blood that seeped over Miguel’s tanned hand. He gurgled underneath Miguel’s hand, the kill messier than he imagined. Any number of his hitmen could have carried out this contract but instead, his crisp white top was slathered in the contract kill of the week. He recalled the sudden memory of his hand on your slight waist, the kiss on the top of your head with the promise of his night. He snarled the memory away.

Should’ve just shot him, Miguel thought. Mierda.

With the fading of the man’s life, his choked grunts drifted into silence. Miguel allowed the man to slump over. Silence fractured, his world bursting with sound. The salt-laden wind whistled past his hair as ships sailed into the pier, carrying cargo, and his latest shipments. Bootlegged booze had its own benefits-- poor training and numbers among agents, for example. A crackle of an engine sped down the road was followed by the bright beams of an electric headlamp.

“¡Oye, Miguel!”

Of course. Under the bright moon that shone arrogantly in the dark sky, the figure came into focus. His polished suit was just a tad too big for his toned, but hardly muscular frame. Even in the darkness, he had the kind of smile that made people feel like they were the special ones. It matched the gentleness in his eyes behind that swoop of chestnut brown hair. If the feds published men of their color on army recruitment posters, he’d certainly make the cut. Handsome, but not too handsome. Strong, but not too strong.

“Gabe,” he breathed. “The lights.”

“Lights? The lights!” Gabriel looked back at his shiny black car. He bounced back toward the car, bellowing. “This a Spot boy? You did a number on him.”

“You sap. Could you be any louder?” Miguel threw aside. “Why are you here?”

“Thought you could use me tonight, big shot,” Gabriel said in that sugar-dipped tongue of his. It works less on Miguel than it had on you. It was oddly discomforting. As the days wore on, he loathed his brother’s silver tongue.

“I could use someone watching my girls.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I was. They're sleeping." Gabriel booted the man, more than minced meat when Miguel was done with him. “You had some beef with him, huh?”

“No.” Miguel mumbled, looking at the man’s body rather than his own, something sharp hovering there. There was nothing he wanted less than to stand in the biting cold listening to his baby brother prattle on a moment longer. He wiped his blade on his once-was-crisp slacks and slid it back into its sheathe. “Let’s hit it.”

“Jake,” Gabriel said, an annoying rendition of an okay. Gabriel was full of shitty terms from his stint in the big house. Almost as many as he picked up at Miguel’s speakeasy.

“Say. Miguel?”

Gabriel’s voice was soft, almost strained. Miguel caught his eyes, knowing subconsciously what his brother would say. He sucked in a breath to calm himself from a reaction to thin, sharp words. They balanced on the point of a knife as Gabriel spoke them into existence.

“They're our girls.”

This setup wasn't going to last. One day, you'd probably settle with Gabe. Miguel jerked up to the sensation of your fingers ghosting his chest, twiddling around his inky black chest hair, gliding across scars. He senses the source of his disquiet, your small frame draped over his side, watching him with a foreign curiosity.

“Muñeca?” he murmured sleepfully, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “What's it? Did Gabriel sleep in?”

He finds it hard to believe that his chirpy brother would do such a thing. Mornings were notoriously his favourite part of the day. Unlike Miguel, who shunned the light that streamed in from your thin curtains.

“Coppers took him in for questioning,” you murmured, leaning in to lay a small peckish kiss on his lips. That was quick. His eyes swept down to your lips, lingering there as you spoke. “Gabi said you’d come with me to iglesia.”

“Chingado. He passed the buck onto me.” Miguel groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillow, weighed down by such a stupid request. You thumbed the golden necklace he’d forgotten to take off, gliding one of your legs up his hirsute thighs. He finds himself hiking your leg higher up his thigh. “That’s what you woke me up for?”

“‘Course not,” you muttered. “I missed you last night. Where’d you go off to?”

“To finish intake.”

You didn’t believe that.

“Promise it didn’t have nothing to do with what Gabi got carted off for?” He holds you in a working gaze, something that tells you he isn’t about to answer something like that. You are his woman. Yet, some secrets aren’t ones that he’s willing to disclose. It could put you in a compromised position. Most men, namely the Italian boys, had enough sense not to drag a man’s family into problems between the mob and the clan but in this world, not everyone had sense.

“Miguelito, you’re scaring me.” Your breath quickened, palpable with your chest against his. His large hand encompassed the middle of your back, guiding small, consolatory circles.

“Some things you’re better off not knowing,” Miguel worked at an explanation. Some things like the amount of hits he was getting for Spot boys. The booze going missing from the speakeasy. Some of his girls licked off the street. Just-- some things. “Got it?”

“Long as it’s not another dame,” you mumbled, fisting his necklace around your fist, dragging him forward for emphasis. A smile tugged at his lips, somehow pleased with your response. “What? You been out the house more times than not.”

“I share you with my brother,” Miguel worked the back of his neck. “Better that I skip town than hear you moaning for him. Might hem him up one of these days.”

You laugh-- but Miguel doesn’t find a lick of it funny.

“You got me now,” your hands drifted up to Miguel’s massive shoulders. “How ‘bout this. You fill me all up for church, wear that spiffy dark blue suit. Then we take Lyla out to get her some cherry coke at the apothecary’s. Maybe I’ll even sing you a whole song today if you’re lucky.”

Church, again. Miguel rattled a groan. Of course, he couldn’t have one day off from frateurinizing with people who hated the fuck outta him. Church folk. He didn’t know why you insisted on going with people who openly called you loose.

“Can do without one of those things.”

“If you want me, you go to iglesia, Miguelito.”

West-Side Violence at All-Time High! Italian Enforcer found dead! The West clan’s Gabriel O’Hara facing added charges on suspicion of--

Tch. You interrupted the scowl on his face with a well-placed kiss to his cheekbone, sliding a piping hot mug of Joe before him. Wafts of steam warmed his cheeks. You set down his morning’s breakfast, a plate loaded with fats. No tamales today, but baked beans from a few well-established Irish wives in the area. You wiped your greasy fingers off on a dirtied apron. Miguel stabbed a hunk of sausage as you spoke.

“Gabi’d never do that. They’re trying to hem him up like that capo last month,” your voice quaked, strutting back toward the cabinets. “It’s too personal. He’d… fill ‘em up with lead sure, but a stabbing? It just don’t make sense.”

Sure didn't. Miguel dropped the paper to the side of the oak table, tracing lines of worry that grew into spiderwebs of panic across your forehead. You spoke so feverishly in defense of Gabriel, whose absence was palpable. He often talked about the latest hired singer, sneaking behind your waist for kisses on your nape when Miguel could barely drag himself out of bed in the morning after pulling all-nighters.

“I have someone on it.”

“I bet Papa did it.” His daughter-- or Gabriel’s-- they were never quite sure. He glanced to his foot where Lyla sat. A full seven-year-old, Lyla was a spitfire of a thing, her hair in a bouncy bob topped by a silky ribbon. She glanced up from the dreidel she was spinning around and around. His lips pulled into a minced smile. “What? He’s a liar.”

“Miguel.”

Couldn’t even eat in peace.

“Lyla,” Miguel gestured toward the door. “Go wake up Maeve. Go on kid, get.”

That kid had a smart mouth. He watches her roll her eyes, only budging when you supply her with a hunk of pan dulce. She takes a mean bite, eyes locked on Miguel as she hopped out, somehow less bothered than she was a few seconds ago. You closed the metal door behind your daughter, a hand balled up on the bend in your waist as you watched her skip down the stairs and out of view.

“Most girls don’t talk like that about their papas,” you mumbled. Your arms crossed one over the other for support. “Does she hate him that much?”

“Most girls don’t grow up in the life.”

“Mi culpa.”

With his breakfast all but spoiled, Miguel pushed the plate away. His hand was soft on your waist, nose burrowed into your hair, tracing the notes of jasmine and rose, vanilla and sandalwood. The scent was unmarred by the stench of speakeasy smoke so early in the morning. Your hand came over his, steadying yourself from the rushing thoughts by leaning into his touch.

“I need a girl at the speakeasy tonight.”

Unlike his brother, Miguel’s requests rarely offer a tone of choice. It rolls off his tongue dry and hits your ear like a spike. Nothing about your relationship with Miguel was easy-- it was marred by the rivalry among the brothers-- and as you suspected-- interloping from your grandfather.

“Y Lyla?”

“Maeve is her nanny.”

“How can I step in there without Gabi?”

“He’d want you to. And I want to see you out of this dumb apron.”

“It isn’t dumb,” you pursed your lips, somehow more convinced despite your reservations. Most days, you spend the day in the house-- isolated from any life you came to Nueva York for. Any half-formed excuse that was on your tongue flopped. He nearly has you. “It is right dumb, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. What happened to my canary?”

“She met a pair of terrible brothers who don’t care for pulling out.”

“Don’t blame me.”

He pushed himself against your back, twiddling your fingers against the pantyhose that clothed your thighs. A smile tugged on your lips as Miguel leaned over to kick the front door shut, dipping onto his knees. It wasn’t often that he allowed you to ruin his perfect face before work. Today is a special treat.

But… if you thought back, you really should have.

Took a long time to get any mail from the island. Almost impossible.

In your hands is a sloppily penned letter-- You should be married to one of those boys-- your grandfather. He isn’t stupid enough to think that you’re opening this for the first time tonight, here and now, right in front of him. If you’re ‘reading’ it, you must be wanting him to take a hint. Miguel bent down, placed a kiss on your temple, gliding his hands over your own to place the letter onto the vanity.

He used those very same hands that were meant for maiming against the clasp of a set of pearls around your neck with gentle precision. His fingers coursed along the curls at your nape as he clasped them together.

“How long before your set?”

“Half an hour… maybe.” You stood to face him, pursing ruby-red lips, whispering in his mother’s tongue. He never liked it when his mother barked at him in Spanish, but when it's off your tongue, he knows how sweet it could be. Your hand inched its way over his chest, tracing the fat knot against his throat.

“What’s the issue?”

“I don’t-- feel very perfect. You have all these shebas out there--” women who not only knew how to sing but weren’t terribly mottled by stretchmarks or burdened by the eviscerating effect of motherhood. They’re beautiful, free canaries when they sing in his speakeasy. As much as you loved singing-- you felt shy on that ruby-red stage lately, before a dozen ruby tables and the hopping band.

“They’re to bring in the sugar.”

“Uh-huh, bring in the sugar until they take you away.”

“I’m satisfied.” Miguel took a step up, communicating the way he knew how, by settling his large hand over your jaw. His strong hand glided to your chin, urging you to look him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere. Tied me down with Lyla as it is.”

“Words are just words. Why buy the…”

“Cow if you can get the milk for free, sí, I know what your grandfather says.” He slips into your chair. “Què quieres?”

“I don’t know, Miguelito. A promise. A marriage. Algo.”

“You want me to wife you up? Don’t remember ever talking about this.” He gestured you to come closer. You stepped up, knocking between his legs. Miguel’s gaze falters, chasing the glint of your tassels as they come to a stop.

“What’s the issue?”

“Nothing. I thought you’d ask Gabe.”

“Gabe gets around.”

“You believe those rumors.” You slap his large hands groping up your thighs, climbing over his lap like it was your throne. His massive frame eclipses the chair, suppressing your comparatively smaller frame. “And don’t think I do?”

“Do you?”

“No,” he laughs. Or, not recently. It’s hard being a father-- harder when he has a whole ass business to keep on top of. Most women wanted those things: jewels, a new pair of silk knickers, and a home. “If that’s what you want, you got it.”

“Oh Miguelito,” he suckled your neck, drawing horrendous marks to the surface. Marks of his ownership in the absence of a ring. He hears the pleased hum of your voice, low and sweet, and knows that’s exactly what you wanted to hear.

“I haven’t put in my cap,” his fingers danced across the outside of your thighs, slipping past your stockings to your silken shorts. He slotted his fingers underneath the fabric, grazing his fingers through your neatly kept curls. Your breath came in deeper bursts as he melded his hand over your vulva, expecting you to grind back on him. You did, ever so eager for him.

“Don’t bother me with that,” he said in a low, husked voice. “You know how I feel about your birth control.”

It was your idea, primarily. Gabe was ever too content to simply be with you-- he didn’t need a large family like the rest of Miguel’s Irish clan. Four, six, sometimes more. Unlike Gabe, Miguel wanted the exact opposite. You shifted over his thigh, obeying his desire to have you ride him. Miguel urged your hips down, working his thumb over the precious button as you did. Miguel’s leg trembled up against your slit, bursts of warm friction warming your hungry body. With his slacks freshly cleaned, you worry about soaking them, soaked in lubricant as you were.

“Come here,” you surrendered a soft moan to him, leaning forward now, less to ride his thigh than the bulge in his slacks. He does not quite care for the idea of ruining himself inside the confines of his pants, but if you want to feel him, he has no reason to deny you. You’re wonderfully spoiled, juddering your hips over him like any whore walking the streets in exchange for a coin or two. What he’d give to have this to himself.

It donned on him-- he could have it to himself. This time, he’d be certain of who the child belonged to. He adored his Lyla, though his irritation with her quips was ever palpable, this-- right here, the ability to fill you and be certain filled him with fat hunger and possessive need to burst into his slacks.

“Stop-- Muñeca-- stop,” Miguel tipped his head back, gathering his focus by digging his hand into your hair, stopping you immediately. His harsh grip loosened, followed up by loosening the button of his slacks and shoving them below the curve of his ass. His cock slapped your silken shorts, beads of his desire dripping from his cockhead. “Take those off. I’m finishing inside.”

“Miguelito,” you slipped onto shaky feet, enough that Miguel could force the shorts underneath your dress to the floor. “We agreed that babies would be--”

“You asked to be my wife. Ain’t this what wives do?”

“I know bu-- not there, deja, let me,” you stopped. His cockhead clumsily poked here and there, until finally, your hand guided him properly. Your mouth fell into a hazy moan when Miguel’s cock shoved forward, breaching your cunt with a snap of his hips. You seated yourself back onto his fat cock, reminded of the absence of your cervical cap in your cunt.

For all your talk, you ached for him, dipping your intertwined hands down to your mound. The rhythm was as sloppy as whatever singer was on stage right now, her voice giving way into a distinct crack. Whatever-- if it bought him more time to properly seed you, he didn’t mind.

He buckled forward as you clenched down upon him, holding him prisoner deep in your body. Liquid soaked his slacks-- and Miguel huffed, puffs of hot air warming your back. That was going to be fun to walk out in. His wife’s cum soaking his crotch.

“Hold still. It’s almost showtime,” Miguel’s voice was thin, his hand splayed on your waist as he used you less like his woman and more like a toy for his pleasure. It didn’t take long for Miguel to find a proper rhythm, his muscles flexing against your back. You were preoccupied as it were with the pain of Miguel’s teeth sinking on your shoulder, spiking hot as his pleasure crested. Soon enough, you felt his warmth fill your core, your head lulling back against him only after his thrusts ebbed.

“Don’t clean up, go on stage leaking.” Miguel held out his hand for you to take, allowing you to pull your shorts back up your ass, nestling his leaking cum in the fabric. It helped ease the anxiety of having you on stage, somehow, to see you in such a state.

“When you knock me up, you’re telling Gabi. I... can't.” You told Miguel, smoothing your dress over your shorts. There was a nervous flush in your eyes-- shame, he placed the emotion. He scrubbed the smile from his face. He had at least a few weeks.

“Sure thing.”

There was a certain delight in seeing you dressed up in that little black dress, all bright red lips, and sultry song. Not that you didn’t look tasty in that stupid apron you wore not to dirty any one of the pretty dresses you wore to church-- like you weren’t a heathen for warming the bed of two O’Hara boys. The people knew it. The church knew it. Damn well, the town knew it.

“Pal, that’s her on stage,” went an Italian boy. An allied family through nothing but contract killing and coin, he was safe here for the time being. One little lapse in a contract could shake it all. “That’s their kitten.”

“She married?”

Miguel turned his gaze back to you for a long moment. Your warm, sweetly lidded words slipping off your tongue, making his mind sluggish and relaxed after a long day. He captured your eyes, minding how your hands fell to the tasseled ends of an already short skirt, daring to expose your skin obscured by pantyhose to the crowd. You knew the game, how far you could lift your skirt without your would-be husband jumping his cage.

“Don’t be goofy. Miguel’d get sore if Gabe tried. She has ‘em both around her finger. Has a kid by one of them. No one knows whose. I got my money on--”

Stupid kids.

“Kid, I’m gunning for another.” Miguel cut the boy off, eyes crinkling at the edges. Something in the way you moved on stage reminded him of Lyla’s pregnancy, perhaps the glitter in your eyes when you met him at his table, instead of backstage, holding his large hands in your own. Some sparkle in your eye, a ginger announcement in his ear. Half elation, half… something else. Something, not quite fear, swirled in the boy’s eyes. Miguel watched with a keen interest as the boy flushed.

“Right on, big shot.”

Miguel brought his cigarette to his lips, letting his eyes flutter closed and his mind wander to the past. He should have known you were hands-off from the moment Gabriel wouldn’t beat it with the idea of adding another girl to their speakeasy.

The best time to tell Miguel about his new girl in the speakeasy was when he was in a good mood: catching any bootleg thief put him in a good mood. Not that he was particularly partial to grey matter and blood spraying him like a fresh pinata, but… he was more partial to money in his pocket and a good reputation. His boys cared for much of the violence in the West of this shitty little town.

“You hired a new girl?” Miguel repeated, drawing a long hit of his cigarette with blood-smattered fingers.

“Spanish girl. Like us. We don’t have a Spanish girl in this joint.”

“Gabe. Most of our clients are Irish. They don’t speak Spanish.”

“You should see her Miggy. She’s got this angelic little face,” Gabe whacked his elder brother, his grin growing ear to ear. There it was, his baby brother got blinded by his dick again. “When she sings you-- well, you get all twisted up.”

“Angelic face,” Miguel mumbled under his breath, tapping excess off of his cigarette. For the price he paid his girls, she had better have the face of Mary herself. The last few Gabe had pulled were mistakes. Some drug-addicted. Others whose husbands always caused a mean stir. He drags his hand down his face, weighing the costs. “She another dumb--”

“She’s Daniel’s littlin’. You remember Daniel? Taught you how to use a kn--”

The sigh that sat in his chest dissipated like vapor, perfusing into his tissue. Miguel looked at the paper Gabriel set in his blood-tinged fingers. He rotated it, gave it a look with his tired eyes. Talk to Gabriel. That old man knew just what Miguel would have said: get your ass back on a boat and go home to whatever rinky-dink island you foolishly sailed off of for this shitty city.

“Lemme see her sing.”

He doesn’t pay attention when Gabriel introduces you onstage for the first time, focusing on the paper ledgers Peter arranged for a review. Unlike his Italian connections, he don’t mind mixing it up with the Jewish boys. They’re twice as smart on the books and twice less likely to be hauling in trouble. Bootleg booze was one thing— the opium, the heroin, the cocaine, and morphine another. It packed too much heat from the coppers.

He hadn’t meant to look up.

It didn’t occur to him that you could have a sickly sweet voice, tempered by the rich Spanish on your tongue, only rivaled by those beautiful looks. His abandoned ciggy threw smoke into the air. He slumped back into the chair with a heavy thud, unclenched his tense jaw, and listened to a siren’s song that felt both familiar and distant all the same.

You had the sort of eyes he swore he’d met before, despite knowing he’d never seen a face like yours around. He’d remember sinking his teeth in that delicate neck that sat under pearls that he supplied most of his singers for their performances. His eyes hungrily cantering down your tassel dress. Not one he provided, no, he knew most to all the pieces in the back. There was a simple beauty in the gown.

You were trouble. He caught your eyes with an intent expression and expected you to blush and look away. You smiled. He wasn’t sure if it was for him or Gabriel, who flicked a grade-A smile, and a twiddling wave of your little fingers. He wants to feel them scratching down his back.

“--anyone home? Miggy? Miguel. Don’t tell me you’re already stuck on her.” Gabriel teased, elbowing Miguel in the arm. “You are! Told you she could sing.”

“Pipe down.” He jammed his ciggy in the dish.

“Sorry.”

He watches you a moment more, the slide of your legs to the tune of the band. The way your laugh resonated through the speakeasy when a patron stumbled onto the stage for his take on some stiff-legged swing. Most women would push them off, look to him for help in the swing, but you ran with the twirl the drunk led you into. He hated to admit that Gabriel was right. Among all the girls in his speakeasy, you brought a lightness to the life of a drunkard he’d not seen in a while.

“Gabe,” he mumbled, standing up and whirling his suit jacket over his broad shoulders.

“Yeah?”

I told’ja so, Gabriel’s voice sounded in his head. He could already feel the stiff annoyance that would be Gabriel’s fist connecting with his shoulder. Why did Gabriel have to know him so well? Miguel spoke with an undercurrent of annoyance.

“Let’s keep her.”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice.”

A hail of loud pops ruptured his sweet, distant memories. He reaches out to snatch his gun from the table, settled between the fresh flowers he plucked for your show. For an instant, his world wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t sounded out by the deafening assuredness of a kill, but very real panic under the singled out by the shrill of your scream.

They're going to push up on us, Miguel told Gabe. He never did take anything outside the speakeasy seriously.

Except tonight, there was no Gabriel. Miguel clasped his hand around his gun, whirling for the source of the flame. The barrage of gunfire is put down as quickly as it began. With a host of Irishmen in the bar, he should be so unsurprised. One of the Italian kids slumped over on his table.

There’s blood-- a lot of blood. Hysterics bound all around, some soothed by their partners or friends. The other Italian boy just stares-- lips slightly apart-- jarred by whatever horror was before him. Miguel finds it hard to believe that he hasn’t seen worse. Others burning his ears like the morning sun in his eyeballs every day you forgot to pull the curtains closed.

“God damn it, Peter.” Standing there is the scrawny little devil of a bookmaker himself, smiling cheesily.

“Hope that’s a good god damn it.”

He shoved his way from the tables, numbing out the complaint of the Italian boy. You were long since gone, probably a good thing that you weren’t here, that’s for fucking sure. It’d been the first time since Gabe’s incarceration he managed to drag you out of there and now… you were somewhere, undoubtedly frightened. Maybe even hurt.

“Boy, wonder who this kid crossed. Say, about Gabe, I got good news--”

He seized a chair, flicking it past Peter, a sure hiss for him to shut the fuck up about his baby brother in the can. Peter put his hands up reflexively, tracing Miguel’s rising shoulders.

“She ran to the back.”

The slender hallway down to his office is cold, only illuminated by the occasional pull-pin light bulb swinging overhead. He came here most days that he wasn’t on shift, taking a hit, or caring for his boys. Keeping track of everything was the best way to stay ahead. And even still-- he missed something from one of Spot’s boys.

You didn’t bother to close the door, balled up in a corner of his small office. He has a glorified cot for a bed in a corner, a heavy desk that nearly killed Gabe trying to hike it down the stairs years ago, and a rack stuffed with any number of books.

“It’s me,” his voice filled the room. You peered up from behind your arms, wrapped around your knees. What a stupid oversight, he thought, whoever was in charge of the damn door let someone in that was… going to be a problem. He was good with Lucky’s crew. Now he was gonna have to pick up that wired phone and tell him some kid was dead.

Your heels scratched across the ground, scooting back to the cool wall. You weren’t hurt-- just, sort of shocked. Maybe being conned into church with you panned out somehow.

“Muñeca.”

“That ain’t… ever happened with Gabe before.”

Gabe. Dy by day that he heard his brother’s voice, it became more of an annoyance. It wasn’t fair to make the comparison-- Gabe caring for most things that went on in the speakeasy, Miguel caring for interpersonal deals and security. With Gabe away, he’d not… it didn’t matter.

“It won’t happen again.”

“If Lyla were here--” You’re a shark-- going after the one thing you knew would hurt. The little girl back at home who he went to great lengths to make sure was safe. She was… his, even if he felt was his brother’s, putting more salt into an ever widening sinkhole that was his irritation.

“She wasn’t.”

“But what if she was?”

“Cállate,” he barked.

“Fine, I’ll beat it. You can holed up all alone down here like you like to be, you-- you-- big lug.” You recoiled for an instant, before forcing yourself up, rubbing at heavily fallen tears in your pursuit of the door. Your cheeks were kissed by raw agitation, all pink and in any other situation, beautiful. Miguel swayed to catch your elbow.

“Discúlpame,” he murmured, a rare apology if you could even call it one to begin with. There was a long pause, and he wondered if you would be upset with him for the rest of the day. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

He knew he made it damn hard not to.

That was the thing about Miguel. He made it hard to get close, but even harder to leave. No matter what he did, you wanted to stay there right by him-- because he was the complicated brother. The one who… well, hell, you wanted to be about. Gabe was good and easy, your Miguelito was…

“Dios mio, Miguelito. This hinky stuff ain’t happening again. Or-- Or I’ll leave you both. Take Lyla right back to the island I came from and marry a man who isn’t in wrong with the police.”

You should have known the day that you gave birth to his daughter that something like that wasn’t going to happen.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader

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rustboxstarr · 11 months

Text

🥀First times for everything🥀

Summary: Just some good ole' fashioned grinding my guys

Pairings: Virgin!Eddie x Plussize!Reader

CW: kissing, groping, smut, grinding, cumming in boxers 😈, slight miscommunication, new relationship, reader referred to as fat by herself because what is so wrong with that? it's an adjective!

Word count: 3.9k

A/N:This was supposed to be a blurb, I very obviously failed..

Check out my other works!

You strolled down the hall adjoining the cafeteria with an arm laced with Robins as you laughed about a previous endeavor in class, Jason had been told to shut it after talking all class and almost peed himself when he wasn't excused to the bathroom with a pass. The early June weather didn't feel as if you had just left spring, it felt like you were in the pique of august in some exotic country judging by the sun blazing down on you, allowing your body to break out in a light sweat whenever you were outside too long. The temperature was up in the three digits category every single day, so automatically baggy jeans and t-shirts turned into shorts and the occasional crop top. Today was that day, you had gotten a few stares, but that was inevitable being a fat girl wearing shorts that barely covered your ass and naturally weighty breasts on display under the white halter top, you would like to think it was a modest amount of cleavage, unfortunately that was only the case for you, for others you looked like you might have been trying too hard, there was no way you were going to care however, it was too damn hot outside to dress any lighter than this. You were pleasantly surprised that the shorts hadn't been bothering you but you dismissed the fact of no chafing due to the short walks between classes and cool air blasting through the school leaving your thighs dry and smooth as they rubbed together when you walked.

“Oooh, loverboy is here” Robin grabbed your attention and drew it down to the end of the hall to see your boyfriend leant up against the lockers, black t-shirt with some band on it you couldn't read from so far away and a simple pair of green cargo shorts. “oh and he’s waiting by your locker, how cute” Robin grinned sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her antics, “Oh I just realized you never told me if you.. you know” she widened her eyes excitedly, “Jesus Robin, you are too invested in other people's lives” that was not the answer she was looking for and that was made clear when she shook her head expectantly. “If you must know” you rolled your eyes again “No Eddie and I have not had sex”. You stopped in the middle of the hall, pulling her to the side so you wouldn't arrive where Eddie was, mid conversation.

“Why not dude? What on earth are you waiting for?” she was undoubtedly exasperated with the situation, you were together, you had talked about sex with Eddie and she had heard from Steve that he had briefly ventured into the subject so what was the big deal?!

“Everyones not sexcrazed teenagers like you and Steve, humping like bunnies” you sneered “Ew when you say that it sounds like you mean were fucking each other” she pulled a face. “Obviously not, I just mean, Steve dates anyone in sight” you gestured to yourself, as if saying he even dates fat girls “-and you and Vickie seem to be how do I say this?” you pondered “Horny as fuck” you grinned. “So are you and Eddie” she drew her eyebrows up dramatically as if she knew something you didn't. “We don’t know that, for all I know Eddie isn't even ready to do that stuff” you explained. “Welllll” Robin bounced on the balls of her feet “I mean, he’s a 19 year old guy, they're all horny fucks. He might just be waiting for you to tell him you're ready” that was in fact the case, but you didn't know that.

“I feel like if he was he would say something” you raised your eyebrows as you began treading slowly down the hall again, “You realize you haven't told him you're ready” she rolled her eyes out of your view “I think he would know I’m ready” you countered.

“Sure, because boys are so well known for their knowledge of the female species, Eddie!” she held her hands out as a greeting. Eddie frowned slightly at her dramatic hello “Hey.. Robin” he answered her cautiously. “Alrighty well I’m gonna head to History, I’ll leave you too lovebirds be” she smirked earning a sneer from you as she began walking. She turned around behind Eddie's back to face you and made a lude scene in the hall, pretending to thrust into someone from behind while making awfully exaggerated faces of pleasure. Your stare at her drew Eddie's attention making him look behind him, Robin stopped abruptly and spun around to speed walk to class.

“Hey” you smiled, stretching up to place a peck to his lips which he happily returned. “Only have a few minutes, I have history too” he explained as you opened your locker to switch out your books “But I wanted to ask, um Wayne, is uh out tonight, if you want to you know come over, we don't have to do anything!” he was quick to stress that fact “but I just thought it might be nice, watch Tv without a 60 year old man hovering around us” he grinned “and uh we got the AC going so it'll be cool” he brought his hand to the back of his neck to scratch and it with the pads of his fingers.

“Yeah, I’d love to, I’ll just tell Steve I don't need a ride and I’ll go home with you yeah?” you closed your locker, limply holding your math textbook between both hands resting on your stomach. “Yeah sounds good” he smiled down at you, as you met his eyes you saw his attention was brought further down, to your boobs which were now firmly pressed together from the way you were holding your textbooks. You felt slightly awkward under his gaze but the moment only lasted a second or so before he cleared his throat and looked back at you “I’ll uh, be in the parking lot when you end” “Can’t wait” you grinned as you pecked him on the lips again. Before you could draw back Eddie's hand was quick to grab at your neck to hold you to him for just a few seconds longer. You swallowed as you drew apart, “Ok, bye” you forced a smile and quickly walked away. God could you be more awkward??

–

“You ok?” Robin asked as Eddie folded himself into the wooden chair next to her. “What? Oh, yeah all good” he smiled but Robin only squinted at him, a slight smirk played on her lips as she leant back, waiting for the class to start. As casual as she could be she commented “Cute top Y/N wore today right?” she was trying very hard to fight the smirk, it was proven even more difficult as she turned her head to the side to see Eddie with raised eyebrows, he coughed “Uh, yeah, didn't- didn't really notice it” he tried explaining away. Robin only nodded, silently laughing maniacally in her head.

–

“Welcome to my humble abode” Eddie grinned as he swung through the door gesturing you to enter first, you chuckled “I’m familiar with it”, both of you slipped off your shoes and dropped your school bags to the floor. “So uh” Eddie clapped his hands together before holding them firmly behind his back, trying not to rock back and forth with nerves “What do you want to do, we can watch a movie, listen to music in my room and uh…” he wasn't sure how exactly he had planned on finishing that sentence. “Make out?” you grinned “I-I mean, only- only if you want to” what was his issue with just saying one word once when he was talking, shut the fuck up Eddie, why are you so nervous, shes your girlfriend you idiot.

You looked up at him through squinted eyelids, tilting your head to the side “Do you want to?” you had kissed before, sure, indulged in a little tongue, sat next to each other on a bench and awkwardly facing each other but never close to each other, not in someone's bed. “Only if you want to” he deadpanned now, head tilting down to look you straight in the eye, wishing he could understand what was going through your head. You were about to repeat his words back to him, or even say you wouldn't mind it, but maybe if you were clear with Eddie he would be clear with you so you opted for saying it right out “I want to” Eddie's eyes widened. “Do you?” you asked slowly, voice slightly firm “Y-yes, yes” he was nodding vigorously “I want to” you giggled at him “Well come on then” you slipped your palm into his, letting him stumble with you to his bedroom. Before you had a chance to sit down Eddie asked “Music?” trying to avoid your gaze. “Yes” you stated looking him dead in the eyes before grinning “But I’m picking”.

Eddie clambered onto his bed as you went through music collection. How was he supposed to sit, in the middle against the headboard? To the side so you could sit next to him? Should he lie down? Would you be comfortable with lying down or would he seem like a creep? Was he supposed to be on top? Fuck he was getting in his head, fucking relax. He chose to sit in the middle of the bed, resting against the headboard, this way if you wanted to you could.. sit in his lap.. or next to him, he made sure there was still room for you.

Just as he was trying to relax and calm his nerves he looked over at you bent at the waist to read the backs of each cassette. His heartbeat rose and an audible gulp was heard through the room as he noticed you. With your particular position your shorts had risen up your hips, wedging between your thighs, seam pressing at your puffy cunt and giving him a clear view of half your ass. He tried to look away, find just one other thing in the room that could catch his interest but it was impossible, his eyes snapped back to you, he rolled his eyes back as if just the sight of you alone was giving him pleasure, which, it was. He took the opportunity to sneakily and quietly adjust himself, forcing his now hard cock to sit straight and under the hem of his boxers, that would definitely make his little issue less noticeable.

You stood up only a moment later, popping in the A side of the cassette Whodini, Escape. It was a surprise to see Eddie actually had Hip-pop in his house but judging by the size of his collection it seemed reasonable. You rocked your head from side to side with the beat of the music as you turned to Eddie, who sat fiddling with his rings in his lap. Now it was your turn to freak out about the sitting position, you pushed it down and took a breath. You weren't necessarily that excited about sitting on top of Eddie, you were heavy, what if you were too heavy? What if he didnt like you sitting in his lap? But you chose to power through, climbing onto the bed and swinging a leg over his and settling on his mid thighs. Eddie's wide eyes stared up at you, it was unbearable, you didn't want to think you did something wrong so you just quickly attached your lips to his.

Eddie closed his eyes with a sigh, releasing the tension in his shoulders. As your hands grazed his arms and settled on each side of his neck Eddie drew his hands up to hold lightly at your waist. The kiss lasted a few seconds before you drew back to look at him, you didn't really get a chance though because soon enough Eddie leaned forward searching your lips again, with gentle movements you got him to settle back against the headboard and pecked against his lips. As you kissed him again you felt Eddie's tongue poking slightly at your flesh, nonverbal asking you to part your lips, you did, and you almost swooned when you felt his tongue graze yours, cinnamon gum tasting at the tip of your tongue. A low groan spilled from Eddie's lips as he grew more brave and licked more of your tongue. It was as if both of your bodies just knew and molded together, tongues swiping at each other with growing confidence and force. Eddie's hands began to grip harder at your hips making you notice it more, you chanced it and grabbed his right hand.

His grip immediately loosened, thinking he might have held you too hard but gasped when he felt you guide his hands to your boob. He muttered a “fuck” against your lips as his fingers pushed into the soft skin. His grip on your hip went back to its former strength as he palmed at you desperately. You hummed against him at the feeling and continued kissing him. Relishing in the feeling of Eddie's greedy hand altering between squeezing harshly and simply holding you.

He couldn't hold it in anymore though, he was straining desperately against his boxers and he needed some sort of release. You made a shocked whine when his hand left your boob to find its place on your hip again. Eddie forcefully pulled you flush against his chest, moving you from his thighs to sit right down on his clothed cock. You let out a loud gasp as you felt his hard length pressing right against your covered cunt, you parted your thighs to open your lips up to sit firmly on him, allowing his previous adjustment to sit deliciously pressed to your clit. Eddie's hands instinctively pushed over your shorts as he moved his hands from your hips to grab a hefty handful of your ass, causing you to push down on him. You let out a low moan at the feeling, desperately kissing his lips again to taste him.

When Eddie pulled you towards him with his grip still firm on you over the denim, you pulled away from him. Wide eyes staring down at him in surprise. Eddie's lips curled into a slight smirk and adjusted his footing on the bed, to push you up against him with his knee as his hands encouraged you to grind against him, his hands pushing you back and forth until you got the memo and began grinding against him. One hand left his shoulder to grip at the headboard behind him, supporting you in grinding against him in a particularly hard stroke as you watched Eddie's mouth fall open and his eyes flutter closed at the sensation. You forced your hips forward again, a long stroke where you could feel your clit hit slightly past the ridge of his head earned a loud groan from Eddie as his head fell back, hair brushing lightly against your hand.

With each movement of your hips, slowly but each stroke daring longer and longer Eddie groaned beneath you, suddenly you missed the touch of his lips against yours so you bent down slightly to capture his plump flesh in a light bite which turned into a kiss. Eddie grasped desperately at the fat of your ass as he timidly licked into your mouth. The long strokes ran faster as you found your position above him and confidence overthrew your nervousness, you hungrily grinded against his cock, the seam of your shorts perfectly placed against your clit as the first thrust of his hips forced it harder into the delicate nub.

With that first thrust you couldn't help the loud slightly pornographic moan that fell from your lips, it had Eddie slowing his tackle on your mouth to watch in awe as he thrusted again, swallowing hard at the sound of a second moan. With the release of his lips you closed your eyes, your head rolling over on your shoulders to face the ceiling. Eddie stared at you, his mouth falling open as he watched your face intently. He thrust his hips again, harder this time to hear a now proper loud sultry moan echo in the room. Had you opened your eyes you would have seen the surprise and excitement on is face at your reactions, but you were too focused on revelling at the fact that your clit was being treated with perfect friction with each passing second.

His hands went back to forcing you back and forth over him, the efforts of his knee, his hands, your hips and his hands moving you back and forth made you move faster and faster against him. Unabashedly your moans picked up to short and high pitched with each force of your hips. Eddie groaned as you purposely pushed your weight down on him and it distracted him from watching you. He went back to falling against the headboard with his eyelids shut but eyes rolling to the back of his skull beneath them.

His groans of delight turned into deep moans when the pace picked up to impatiently fast, rubbing over his dick as quickly as you could. Not only was he getting some much needed relief but soon he felt the relief turn into active pleasure, his eyes flew open in an instant, fuck if you continued like this he was going to cum in his jeans. Jesus christ he would look so pathetic if he couldn't even hold it when you were simply making out. Was this making out? You weren't even kissing him?-

On the other side of the interaction was you, eyes squeezed tightly shut as your mouth dropped open to an exaggerated ‘o’ simply in the moment and not caring one bit that you might complete, it wasn't even the possibility, you knew that with only another minute you would come. And you chased that while picking the pace up once again averaging four strokes with each second, tits bouncing as you pushed yourself down on him.

-Would you be grossed out if he came? Would it be weird? Fuuuuck he was clenching his stomach now, willing his body to slow down, but he couldn't when you felt so damn good. “Shit” it was the first word you had said since walking into his room, and it snapped him right out of his overthinking “- Eddie, I’m gonna cum” you whined. “Wait really?” hang on, if you were cumming, he could too right? “Yeah” it was an answer to his question but it came out as a long moan as you rocked against him. Well that was all the answer Eddie needed and he relaxed, he was shocked that it was even possible but he forced you to rock faster and faster, now fully accepting the pleasure it was causing him. You moans came out louder and louder, almost like high pitched squeaks with each thrust.

They grew shorter and louder, building up to the inevitable orgasm you were experiencing, you repeated a string of “fuck, fuck, fuck” until finally Eddie heard one loud scream of a moan as your head became even heavier on your shoulders forcing you to almost fall onto your back before Eddie reached up quickly to hold at your back, one hand tightly wrapped around your waist while one splayed between your shoulderblades. Your hand moved from the headboard to grip at his shoulders as you rocked through your orgasm. Eddie had been so fixed on watching you that he hadn't even realized he too was at the brink of the edge “Mother fu- SHIIIIIT” he groaned as he curled in on himself, his forehead finding support against your cleavage as his body portrayed the action of a dry heave. He felt the thick ropes of cum shoot out of his slit to paint the inside of his boxers and create a sticky mess.

You were now panting heavily as a hand found its way to slither through his curls and hold you softly against your boobs while Eddie shook beneath you. When you finally came down from your high, only 15 seconds after the fact, you became aware that Eddie was still seemingly cumming. You watched in shock as he groaned beneath you and shook uncontrollably until finally what must have been a whole half minute he stilled and heaved heavily. His heavy breathing forces your hand on his shoulder to follow up and down.

You giggled at him as Eddie moved from your tits to fall back against his pillows, a light sheen of sweat holding his bangs to his forehead as he panted. “Jesus, is this how you normally are?” you joked “Gonna get me pregnant if you cum that hard, probably break the condom” Eddie's eyes opened to look at you through a frown of confusion “I don't know” you answered sheepishly at your weird joke, but Eddie only burst out into a loud laugh, it was intoxicating and led you to join in as well.

The laughter finally died down “I have actually never cum that hard in my life, so no need to worry” he joked. “I’ve uh never actually uh done this before” he gestured between your bodies “Or anything really” you couldn't help the snort that left your throat, Eddie went back to frowning at you “I’m, I’m sorry” now you couldn't help that the loud obnoxious giggle “no no really I’m sorry” you breathed, why was this even funny you had no idea “I, uh, I kinda figured, you didn't really make a move” you explained.

Eddie pulled a face “Hey, I didn't make a move because I wanted to be respectful of you” he argued “I didn't know if you were like, ready for stuff like this yet” he explained. “Oh that's so sweet” a squeak bubbled up behind your lips as you fought hard not to laugh again “What is so funny?!” Eddie asked exasperatedly, you instinctively went to cover your mouth as you scrunched your face up “It's not funny I swear” you told him after taking a deep breath. “Well it seems to be for you”, you looked at him with a much needed serious expression “It's not funny, it is really sweet, it’s just that, I dated Steve” Eddie shook his head desperately, while blinking profusely with his eyes closed “Sorry, dated? I thought you said you went out like one time” Eddie stressed the one by holding his finger out. You grabbed it and laced your fingers with his. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew I’d scare you off, and I really wanted you to ask me out” you gave him an apologetic look “Robin, kinda told me to wait with that whole thing, she said you'd be insecure”

“Fucking Robin” Eddie scoffed, with a roll of his eyes before he they suddenly zoned in on you again “Wait, so how experienced are you?” he asked. “Well I’m not a virgin” Eddie's face fell at that “But!” you interjected before he could say something “If it helps, I’ve never cum that quickly or hard with Steve, or ever really” at that fact Eddie's face broke into a grin “That does help actually” you smiled at him.

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ghxstfacesgf · 1 year

Text

Liquid Courage: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader

Warnings: none really, slightly heated at the end

Note: I have not written anything in forever so apologies in advance. This was just a thought that I let spiral. Requests open <3

Part two here

•

“I think it’s going to rain tonight,” you said to the group of girls gathered in Sam, Quinn, and Tara’s apartment.

“Clear skies and 75, y/n. But nice try!” Anika quipped as she tossed you a vibrant orange top. You playfully gagged and tossed it back in her direction. The girls had somehow roped you into attending some frat party tonight. The weather was your final plea to get out of it. Did you absolutely hate parties? No, but tonight you just weren’t in the mood. You had been practically drowning in schoolwork and your job. All you wanted to do was crawl into your fuzzy bedsheets but, your friends wouldn’t allow that. “Ethan will be there.”

You tossed a glare in Anika’s direction. She loved to tease you about the fluffy haired boy and his obvious crush on you. You couldn’t deny Ethan was cute. There was just something about his dorky persona paired with how painfully adorable he was. But, he was a horrible flirt. In fact, he froze when around you. He wasn’t exactly the type of guy you went for. So you left it be. It was only a silly crush anyway and Ethan clearly wasn’t planning on pursuing it.

Finally you decided on some cargo pants (your favorite pair) and a slightly cropped black top. As you made the walk to the party you thanked yourself for choosing comfortable shoes. Once you arrived, the smell of alcohol invaded your nose. It seemed that you all arrived late considering the drunken state of just about everyone else. Mindy and Anika split off quickly from the group, while you followed Tara into the kitchen to get a drink.

“This is exactly what you need,” Tara stated as she poured what appeared to be Malibu in your cup. She topped it off with some sprite and slide the cup to you. She knew that as soon as you had some alcohol in you, you’d enjoy yourself. God you hated how right she was.

You took a drink and your face immediately twisted, “Jesus Tara, is there any sprite in here at all?”

“A drop or two.” She winked and you laughed. That’s when you noticed a certain pair of brown eyes on you.

“Making me a drink T?” Chad slide in right next to Tara, his arm around her shoulders. She replied with some sarcastic comment before placing a kiss on his cheek. You were more interested in the boy straggling in behind Chad. Ethan’s eyes stayed on you. Did he not realize he was staring? He didn’t, not until your eyes met his. Those puppy dog eyes darted down immediately as he pretended to fix his polo shirt. The bright lights in the kitchen made it so you could see the red hue cover his cheeks. A small smile played on your lips as you brought your cup to them again. Almost without realizing it, you were walking towards Ethan.

“Enoying the party?”

“I am now,” Ethan replied, and you could immediately tell Chad had given him a shot or two. He wasn’t drunk, but definitely had enough liquid courage to be flirting with you right now. With eyebrows raised, you took a step closer.

“Is that so? What makes it so much better now, Landry?” You couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked all red-faced. His curls were all disheveled and a few stuck to his forehead from the heat. Maybe this party could be fun after all.

Ethan leaned in closer to you, partly because the music was so loud and partly because he wanted to smell your sweet vanilla perfume, “no particular reason.” The smirk that played on his lips and also his tone made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You’d never seen Ethan be flirty, especially with you. His eyes flashed to your lips for just a moment and you thought he was leaning it when out of nowhere, Chad appeared between you.

“Dude, come on! There’s a girl over here I’ve been hyping you up to!” A look of annoyance spread on Ethans face at Chad’s interruption. He let out a few protests before a drunken Chad lead him away. You on the other had were left slightly annoyed and wildly confused at what just happened. You were also confused at the slight twinge of jealousy you felt when you saw where Chad was leading Ethan to. A beautiful brunette girl whom you’ve never seen before. You downed one shot and then another before setting off to find at least one of your friends. You definitely needed to get drunk after that encounter.

You ended up finding Anika and Mindy and decided on being a third wheel for the remainder of the night. It sure beats third wheeling with Chad and Tara, who were still with Ethan. The brunette lingered around him for the rest of the night as well. And as the night progressed she became more touchy. First his shoulder, then his arm, then his chest. And with every advancement you downed another shot provided by Anika. She asked you a few times what was bothering you and you wouldn’t dare tell her that you’re actually jealous over Ethan Landry. Denying your feelings had gotten you far enough. She could guess though, following your heated gaze over to Ethan and the brunette girl.

Finally, she was tired of your sulking and dragged you out to dance. Mindy didn’t mind as she herself was too high to move off the couch and she knew you and Anika had been close friends for years. You both pushed past the people around you, giggling out apologies. She grabbed your hand and you two began to dance. You’d almost forgotten about Ethan until your eyes glanced over and met his. He was staring right at you and this time, his eyes didn’t divert. In face they were darker now. The brunette girl still hung close to him talking about some nonsense that was he was not paying attention to. His eyes remained on you and only you. “Stop looking,” Anika scolded, spinning you around so now your back was to Ethan. A devilish grin grew on her face. “I knew you liked him, I KNEW!”

“I do NOT like him.” You said sternly, still swaying your hips to the music. Anika rolled her eyes. “Y/n.” “Anika.” “Y/n.” “Anika.” “Y/n.” “Anika! I do not like Ethan Landry!” Anika stopped dancing, her eyes flickering from you and then past you. You turned to see none other than the topic of conversation right behind you. When did he get there? Ethan chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes on the floor. You felt your stomach drop. He looked like you just murdered his puppy and you felt horrible.

“Ethan, I-“ you started towards him and he took a step back. He lifted his hand in the air before mumbling, “it’s all good y/n.” And with that he turned disappeared into the crowd. Great. You didn’t know what was going on with you. Maybe it was the liquor, but you couldn’t blame it on that completely. You’d been struggling with your feelings for awhile. In an attempt to save yourself from Anika’s “I told you so” speech you had hurt Ethan. All you wanted in that moment was to explain.

You searched the crowd and asked multiple people if they’d seen Ethan. You finally found Chad and he let you know that he’d seen Ethan rush upstairs. You followed. Just about every door upstairs seems to be locked until you got to the one at the end of the hall. You opened it slowly, not sure exactly what you’d see. You were relieved to find Ethan sitting on the bed, head in his hands. “Hey E…”

His head shot up at the sound of your voice. You could’ve crumbled right there at the sight of him. “Hey! S-sorry I ran off I just had headache. Never letting Chad make my drinks again,” he laughed shaking his head. You sat down on the mattress next to him. Allowing the alcohol you’d consumed earlier take over you started, “Ethan I was lying. I do like you.” You could heard his breath hitch, relieved and confused by your words. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better, y/n.” He shook his head and started to stand up. You grabbed his arm to stop him. His was lot more muscular than you thought. Damn those butterflies again.

“I’m not just saying that. I like you, E. I like that you get all nervous around me.” You removed your hand. His eyes flickered down to you as he was still standing. “I don’t know what’s going on with me tonight but, what happened in the kitchen and on the dance floor…” you buried your head in your hands and sighed before looking up at him again, hands brushing your hair back. Suddenly, you were the one who felt nervous. The way he looked at you and you swear you saw a small smirk. The same one from the kitchen earlier. “Maybe I should just go, you obviously wanted to be alone and we’re both a bit intoxicated-“

You were abruptly cut off by Ethans lips on yours, pushing you both down on the bed. His lips tasted like a mixture of tequila and mint. The kiss was hungry and fast paced, you almost felt like you couldn’t breathe. You reciprocated, tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck. Desperately trying to bring him closer to you. Your bodies intertwined perfectly imperfectly, a mess of hands grasping at each other’s bodies. He pulled away slightly, his eyes dark like before. You’d never seen Ethan like this before but you certainly weren’t complaining. He examined you like the for a moment. Desperate for him. “Is this okay?” He asked breathily and you nodded, afraid to let any words out in that moment. His lips were on yours again and then they travelled down to your neck. “I like you too, by the way,” he mumbled into your neck. You giggled at the muffled sound before flipping over that you were on top of him now. “You’re such a dork, Landry,” you said in almost a whisper before leaning down slowly. He gulped, thinking of all the times he’d dreamt about this moment. You brought his hands up to cup your waist. Ethan’s grip immediately tightened before your lips met once again. This time it was slower, more passionate. And just as you both wanted more, the door swung open.

“Ethan! We gotta go, cops!” Chad shouted hastily before realizing Ethan wasn’t alone. “Oh shit… y/n? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Ethan grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at Chad. “Shut up dude!”

Chad dodged the pillow and tried to calm him laughter down. “Well, lovebirds we have to go. Y/n the girls are looking for you.”

You sighed as Chad left the room. “Well we better go, I don’t really feel like getting arrested tonight,” you mumbled giving Ethan a small peck on the lips before hopping off him.

“I’ll take my chances. This is worth it.” Ethan grabbed your hips pulling you onto him again, smiling. The way that smile almost had you convinced.

“We can’t make out in jail, E.” You gave him one last passionate kiss, “we can resume this later.” And with that you practically pulled him out of the room and then the house. You met up with the group later and tried hard to avoid Anika’s incriminating gaze.

The party was most definitely worth it.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 imagines #scream imagine #ethan landry smut #jack champion x reader

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tojisun · 9 months

Text

liquor on your lips

recom miles quaritch x na’vi fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; thigh riding; clothed masturbation; power imbalance; hinted legal age gap; daddy kink; miles being a mean tease // 670 words

: quaritch’s too fine, i need to ride him now; teehee-ing hard because i need him badd; title from you can be the boss - lana

quaritch letting you rub yourself on him – watching with a smug grin as you basically ride his thighs, trying, in vain, to chase your release as you glide your bare cunt over his clothed thigh.

“damn, baby girl,” he chuckles, shaking his head when you whined again, peering up at him through your wet lashes and sniffling at his mask of indifference. “y’r fuckin’ up my fatigue.”

your tail lashes out at his mocking tone, whimpering when miles just tilts his head to the side, raising his weird brow as though asking you why’d you stop. you hiss at him, baring your fangs, but the demon just huffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“you can hiss at me all you want, cupcake, doesn’t change the fact that y’r honest to god ruining my damn cargo.”

the words don’t mean much to you so you resume to gliding your soaked heat over his leg, pawing at the offending sky people clothing because you want it gone.

“wan’ feel you, my’lus.” you pout, blinking up at him.

he barks out a laughter. “aww y’still can’t say my name, baby?” at this, his hands finally leave his sides to hold your waist, his palms warm on your skin. his thumbs rub softly at the dips on your belly, kneading as he applies deft pressure.

you nod your head, humming, still pouting at him.

miles shakes his head, petering laughs still escaping his thin lips. “ain’t that adorable?”

his hands slide down to your hips, still rubbing teasingly, before his hold gains strength. your eyes shift to where he is holding, realizing that miles has began to take charge, manhandling you like he always does as he guides your body to rut onto his thigh again.

you sigh at the muted pleasure, long lashes batting against your cheeks, and miles could barely believe how a sweet thing like you fell onto his lap – quite literally, now that he thinks about it – and never left. must be his cock, on top of his sweet looks and his charming personality, for sure.

he hungrily takes in the sight of your naked body, dewy with sweat and some natural lotion that humans would honest-to-god kill for, your cunt soaking his pant leg. miles savours the wafting of your arousal, the smell mixing in with your natural scent, and it makes him growl, his head falling back to the headrest as he goes heady with wanton desire.

“jesus christ, sweetheart. you stinkin’ it up, huh?” he adjusts his legs, spreading them wider, making it a whole lot easier to manhandle you.

your back arches at a particularly rough slide, the bulky fabric applying the needed pressure on your nub, making your eyes gloss over in pleasure.

“my’lus!” you moan, your ears pressing to your skull.

miles chuckles at seeing how debauched you look just by riding his goddamn thigh.

“baby!” he croons, teasing, watching as you fall apart with each glide.

you claw at his hideous shirt, wanting to touch him. to feel him.

miles just hums, moving you closer to ghost his lips over your cheeks, pressing featherlight kisses, before slowly tilting his head down and burrowing his face on your neck. he breathes you in, feeling his cock swell even harder at how fucking good you smell, and miles’ restraint seeps out slowly – all this teasing no longer meaning much.

he just wants to fuck you now.

“look at me, sweetheart. look at me.” he smiles upon seeing your beautiful amber eyes meeting his. “let daddy fuck you now, yeah?”

your breath hitches, your eyes dilating – pools of amber being engulfed by black – and miles could almost feel the way your pussy begins to go slicker at hearing his words.

jesus, woman, you’d be the death of him.

“yes please, daddy,” you whisper, snuggling your naked body onto him, pressing yourself impossibly closer and making you two share the sudden feverish warmth emitting from your cuddled bodies.

miles hums, kissing your forehead. “that’s my good girl.”

#suns.f #recom quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader #quaritch x reader #quaritch x you #quaritch smut #recom miles quaritch #recom quaritch #suns #i was sweating giggling whining as i write this #mean teade quaritch is a need

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frogchiro · 1 year

Note

no thoughts today just simon and his happy trail

You're goddamn right

edit: JESUS IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK THIRST AND INSTEAD TURNED INTO THIS

warnings: fem!reader, no outright smut but slightly suggestive, both the reader and ghost are naked but it's for warmth (more or less), probably ooc ghost, but hey! it's monster! simon!, feral behavior, possessive ghost

No thoughts head empty, only feral monster!Simon who will let out a rumbling growl that makes his broad chest visibly vibrate to call put to you when he feels like you're not giving him his well deserved attention.

You're both currently nestled inside the abruptly thrown together nest of old blankets and some flat pillows you found in the safehouse in the middle of fucking nowhere after you had to quickly retreat after an ambush from enemy forces.

Your Lieutenant, Ghost, moved through the thick dark forest surrounding the safehouse like a shadow, navigating effortlessly but you pinned it up to his....well, monstrous nature.

After you finally arrived you tried to even out your breath while doing your best at keeping it as quiet as possible while you observed the massive chest of Ghost expand as he inhaled and scented the air looking out for any potential danger. Luckily after just a few very tense seconds that felt like hours, Ghost let out a huffing sound and let you know that you were safe and that you'll have to stay here until the next day before regrouping with the rest of 141.

While Ghost got busy with gathering some old scattered parts of destroyed furniture to make a fire in the small fireplace after deeming it safe and that your enemies are far enough to not make you betray your position, you decided to look around the building for some spare blankets and towels that you could use as makeshift bedding.

After checking the only two room of the upper level of the old building you make your way downstairs with the few blankets which weren't wet and covered with mud and mold; just the short memory of them and the smell made you gag as you descended the stairs and noticed that Ghost already started the fire, its orange flames shyly raising up and dancing in the fireplace.

You made eye contact with the burly man and noticed that he stripped himself of the heavy bulletproof vest and various pouches and remained only in his black cargo pants, heavy boots and black uniform, but what made you stop in your tracks and almost gasp out was the sight of his face without the skull mask and balaclava. Of course you saw his naked face without the covering before, but those moments were very few and far in-between so you would be lying if you said that you weren't blushing at the sight of Simon's scarred masculine face. The black paint smudged around his black bottomless eyes which seemed to glow with a strange light-or was it just the flames reflecting inside them?

You were torn out of your thoughts when you heard Ghost letting out short bellowing sounds from deep within his chest, not nearly loud enough to be heard outside but enough to make you focus on him again- just for what the noise is for, to call the attention of his pack.

Flushing with embarrassment at being caught staring in an attempt at saving face you lifted the bunched up materials slightly and explained that you found these to make a quick bed on the floor unless he wants to sleep in a mold-ridden bed.

You smiled slightly at the displeased sarcastic huff he let out and made your way closer to the burly man and started to arrange the materials on the floor close enough to the fireplace to be kept nice and warm but far enough to avoid possibly catch fire.

While placing the blankets and pillows on the ground you heard the thunderous footsteps of your Lieutenant coming closer to you, a few quiet rumbling noises escaping him as he helped you arrange them into a circle before deeming it enough and with another rumble he fell into the bed while pulling you forcefully down with him.

And so you found yourself in this...situation; your naked chest expanding with a sigh at the clinginess of the monster before you. Well, he's your monster after all, your Lieutenant, your Simon and a member of his, well, pack.

Ghost would deny it to Hell and back, but deep down Simon was terribly touch starved and needy for attention, at least from certain, selected by him people, namely you and Johnny. Unfortunately the scottsman wasn't here so you were the one to take the brunt of his...affection.

You knew already that when Simon got into his monstrous headspace he was running on animalistic primal instincts and you were sure that right now they were telling him to 'keep her close, keep mate close. It's cold and dangerous, need to keep mate safe, here' as you could basically hear the cogs in his mind turning, especially when his initially quiet growls became much more insistent and he rose up from his spot, muscles bulging and tensing with barely contained strength, scarred chest vibrating with every bellow.

Since you knew that teasing Simon while in this headspace wasn't the best option, especially considering the situation you were both in, you decided on complying with him and returning quietly to the nest of blankets, keeping your head and eyes low to not anger him further.

When you finally settled again against the big male you smiled gently at the huff Ghost let out, relaxing a bit after feeling your bare breasts against his naked chest and the rest of your soft body plastered against his.

You still didn't fully understand what kind of entity Simon was, no one really did, not even Soap, but apparently even primordial entities liked to be touched and petted when in the right mood as ridiculous as it may sound.

Although slightly more relaxed you noticed that Simon was still tense, the heavy muscles still tensing on his bare stomach so you decided on attempting to calm him down even a little since you knew that tomorrow you had a long trek before you and the both of you needed as much rest as possible.

You raised yourself slightly on your elbow before slowly trailing a soft hand over his chest, massaging it slowly in a relaxing manner and smiling at the slow and steady vibrations before making your way lower to his tense stomach and trailing your fingers over each nook and cranny, the broad expanse tightly corded with muscle slowly relaxing before making your way even lower below his bellybutton and rested your hand on Simon's happy trail.

The appreciative growl from your lover was enough of a message that told you that you were doing a good thing, the feeling of his muscles flex slightly under your hand and his strong hips bucking slightly up into your warm touch. You knew it was a sensitive spot of his, Soap's too and Price was going feral when you caressed his toned stomach slowly, but with someone like Simon you felt as if you were caressing a wild beast.

You knew it was probably making him horny but it wasn't the time nor place for sex, that would come with the remote comfort of your own rooms back at the base where you know is safe.

For now you'll just stick to this, this slow, syrupy sweet affection of caressing your mate's lower belly, the coarse hair on his stomach scratching slightly against your hand but you don't mind; instead you rest yawn and rest your head on the man's strong shoulder and feel his muscled arm wrap tightly around you to bring you closer, nosing against your cheek before giving it a tiny affectionate nip.

You both doze off into sleep, warm and safe in each others embrace, the fire crackling quietly and the sound of rain outside the building. You can't wait for your return to the base~

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #oh jesus this was a ride #i hope you enjoyed it ;;#and yes #you're living the life and you're fucking the entire 141 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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gaysindistress · 1 year

Text

When Night Comes- four

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of blood drinking, creepy cab driver

word count: 3.2k

three | masterlist

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @buckybarnessimpp @hidden-treasures21 @unaxv @mal-adaptive-dreams @elizacusi-blog

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Ping.

A groan rips through her body as she blindly searches for her phone while it vibrates on the coffee table. Reaching across to the table, her upper half falls off the couch with a thud and another groan (this time one of pain) rings out. The phone ceases its dance on the table when her alarm stops and she just slides off the couch entirely in her sleepy state, laying on the floor in a heap of blankets as she opens her phone. As she guessed there are missed calls and unopened texts from Bucky but the text that isn’t from him stands out.

Bravery should’ve been her last name for attempting to steal her away for a date the same night that Bucky had one planned. Well key word is had and since it is no longer on the books, accepting an invite from Yelena doesn’t seem like the worst idea she has ever had. A certain recent ex would be the worst idea she’s ever had but that’s a story for another time. At the moment, responding with “sounds good” as she struggles to stand amidst the blankets to get ready for the day are her only tasks in mind.

Blackbear streams from under the bathroom door along side steam letting her know that Jessica is also getting ready and will probably make them both late if Sunny doesn’t demand she get out right now.

“Jess!” she calls but gets no response.

“Jess!” she tries a little louder before pounding in the door, “Jessica Lee Reyes get out of the shower! Other people need hot water too!”

Her laugher overpowers the sound of the water and music as it all comes to an abrupt stop and she swings the door open.

“Calm your tits. I was literally about to get out,” she says as she slides past Sunny, a fog of steam following after her, “Did Bucky ever stop texting you last night?”

“Uh yeah,” Sunny’s voice is barely audible thanks to the fan but Jessica still hears.

“Thank god. I almost blocked him for you. I really hate that guys can’t take a hint sometimes.”

“Yelena texted me though. She either is really lucky or knew that I canceled on him because she wants to go out tonight.”

Before she disappears entirely into her room, Jessica freezes with glee at the mention of the blonde’s name, “Oh she did? And what did you say?” “Yes.”

“Thank Jesus! I’m so glad you’re finally starting to put my hard work to good use.” “Yeah, yeah whatever,” sarcasm is not uncommon with her but it’s extra thick when Jessica is around and even more so when it comes to debating Sunny’s love life.

“I’m dressing you and you have absolutely no say.”

Sunny chuckles to herself while she strips off to get into the shower. Only god will be able to save her from whatever outfit Jess has in mind for her.

The moment they had ended their second shift at 6pm, Jessica all but dragged her back to her apartment to get ready for her date with Yelena. She may not have been freaking out about it outwardly, every fiber of her being is on fire with anticipation of what the night has to bring. All Yelena told her was that she’d be there at 7 and that they’d be going out, other than that, she is in the dark and at the mercy of Jessica’s interpretation of ‘going out’. Her definition included putting Sunny in baggy black cargo pants and a black corset because “what’s hotter than the big pants and little top combo?” as she put it.

“As hot as I might look, do you really think this is appropriate? Going out could mean so many things and wha…”

Jessica presses a finger to her lips, “I know Yelena and when she says going out, she means clubbing so this is… actually maybe you’re right. I think you need a skirt instead, ya know small bottoms, small top is better anyways.”

She leaves Sunny at her vanity staring at her reflection as she searches for that one skirt she swears will be the perfect addition. The woman at the vanity on the other hand, is mentally tearing herself to bits as she inspects every inch of herself that can be seen in the mirror. No matter how hard she tries, Bucky comes flooding back to the forefront of her mind as she looks over the makeup Jessica put on her. It’s simple, bordering the clean girl look and something she isn’t used to seeing staring back at her. It makes her wonder if she had tried harder, would she be getting ready for HIM instead?

“Oh for the love of god,” she mumbles under her breath. She never even kissed him and this is the hold that he had over her? One close encounter and she’s consumed by him? Shaking her head to shake him from the inside of it, she picks up the lip gloss Jessica used earlier and reapplies it. The shiny gloss catches the vanity light and glitters, cheering her on and boosting her ego.

“Found it!” Jessica calls from the closet and comes back to her with a pale pink mini skirt, “What do you think?” “I like the pants better.”

“Ugh, you’re boring but have it your way,” she flings the skirt behind her with a chuckle, “You are going to wear heels though.”

“We’re going to a club not to the Met Gala, I’m sure my air jordans will be perfectly fine.”

“Why won’t you let me live through you? I’ve always wanted to go out with Yelena and it’s only fair that I get to style you since I set you two up.”

Sunny whips around to face her, “You dragged me to a party after I said no and then left me alone with a grade A douchebag only to be saved by Yelena. I would, in no way, call that setting us up.”

“I got you there and you met her only because you went so yes, yes I did set you up thank you very much.”

Before Sunny can get a retort back, the front door opens and Yelena’s voice rings out, letting them know she’s here.

“Do you ever lock you door, Jess? It’s really not safe,” she says, appearing in the doorway and leaning against the frame.

“I knew you were coming so I left it unlocked.”

“I know you better than that, you forgot but good try,” she chuckles at her failed attempt to cover up the truth before settling her eyes on Sunny, “You look good, голубка. Are you ready?”

She can feel her friend vibrating with excitement from behind her at the nickname and turns to her date, nodding and standing up. It’s the prime opportunity to smack her ass so Jessica takes it as she says, “Good luck. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

She sends her friend a nasty death glare while her date and her laugh manically like little school girls at her expense. Yelena is quick to stifle her laughter with a smirk when Sunny brushes past her on her way out of the room. This is an even better opportunity to look at her ass as she walks away which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jessica.

“God you’re no better than a man,” she chides while cleaning up the remnants of their get ready session.

“Says the one who slapped it.”

“Go have fun and don’t bring her back until tomorrow morning,” Jessica sends her a wink as she slides off the frame and goes in search of Sunny who is muttering to herself as she searches for her purse.

“Looking for this?”

Quickly looking up, she spots Yelena holding her missing purse with a cat like grin and eyes glittering as they take in every ouch of skin her outfit leaves out. Nodding she takes it from her and slips into her leather jacket, still feeling the heat of her date’s gaze on her. It’ll either make for a torturously long night or a far too quick one if she keeps up the way her green eyes leave chemtrails across her skin.

Clearing her throat, she says, “I’m ready if you are.”

The smirk doesn’t leave her face when her eyes make their way to Sunny’s, “Of course голубка.”

She offers out her own leather clad arm to her before leaving Jessica’s apartment and lecturing her about never locking her door.

“The boogieman is going to get you one of these days!” is the last thing Jessica hears while the door is shut and the two woman leave the apartment complex.

Their walk downstairs and out onto the street is filled with the normal small talk; how was your day, any funny stories, what’s your favorite color, you know the usual things. Sunny wants to ask if she knew about her date with Bucky but bringing up a rival suitor is definitely not the best idea when on a date. If Yelena does know anything about it, she doesn’t give it away and avoids saying his name when talking about her job. Come to think of it, she’s rather vague about her job description in general and only mentions how it’s boring and how she works with her sister, Natasha. It’s a given that she does work in the criminal world to some degree if she knows Bucky well enough to crash one of his homes but Sunny isn’t about to pry that information out of her on the first date.

The standard creepy cab driver does nothing to assuage the idea that she’s a criminal. His lewd stares and borderline harassing remarks causes her to keep a protective hand on Sunny’s knee. She can see her free hand itch to reach for something hidden under her jacket the entire ride but it never leaves her lap. Several times Yelena had to interrupt him mid-sentence and even threatened to get out without paying if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. She would have or pulled the gun tucked against her side if Sunny hadn’t squeezed her hand to ground her.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

The murderous glare softened the moment it left the cab driver, “The moment you’re uncomfortable, we’ll get out, okay?”

The nod of confirmation wasn’t enough though for her, “I need you to say it, голубка.”

The air left like it had been sucked out of her lungs with the simple demand but she managed to mutter back “I promise I’ll tell you if I am.”

Satisfaction from both her reaction and her words, she keeps a tight grip on Sunny’s knee and rubs small circles into the inside of it. The simple action is burning through her pant leg, trailing upwards as she has struggles to maintain a calm and collective exterior.

Once at the club, Yelena tosses the cash at the driver and gives him a side eye deadly enough he keeps his eyes trained in the road in front of him. She makes a mental note of the license plate number to follow up on hum after their date is done. As her sister always said, the scum of this world cannot go unpunished and his time will come. However now is not that time and the woman tugging gently at her hand reminds her of the task at hand; dance the night away with the vision of a woman next to her.

“What is this place?”

“Oh,” Yelena starts as she leads her towards the entrance of the old brick building, “It’s called Strigoi, a friend of mine owns it.”

“That’s an interesting name,” Sunny muses as she flashes her id and award winning smile to the bouncer before following her inside.

Anything she might have wanted to say gets stuck when the club’s red lighting bathes over them as well as the interior of it. Unlike most other clubs, the floor has booths scattered throughout with platforms occasionally raising above to provide brave club goers a stage to demonstrate the courage bought by alcohol. The bar is backed by a wall of mirrors while the signature red lights cast a devilish glow on the matching mirror shelves filled with expensive liquor. Beyond everything is the DJ stand where dark synth music streams dramatically from.

“Who exactly owns this club? A vampire?” Sunny whispers to Yelena, half joking while also hoping her earlier suspicions of Peter aren’t true.

She doesn’t answer with words but instead with a deep laughter that vibrates into Sunny’s chest as well as they weave through the crowd towards the bar. A familiar voice catches her attentions when Yelena stops at the edge, leaning over to order drinks for him. Only a few seats down is the Peter Parker she’d hoped to never see again with the same girl from the kickback turned party. The red ambience makes it difficult to see much of him but yet there is another flash of something when he smirks down at the party girl. In his hand is a short glass of thick dark liquid and if Sunny didn’t know any better, she’d assume it’s blood. Obviously that’s insane and no one is drinking blood so she tears her stare away and looks to Yelena who’s already looking at her in puzzlement. His arrogant chuckle draws her attention to him and it clicks; Sunny had spotted him in his natural habit and of course, is confused by it all.

“I can have him kicked out if you want,” she says while handing Sunny her drink.

“Nah leave him. He’s not worth the hassle.”

“For you, any hassle is worth it.”

“Wow already laying it on thick I see. Think you’re going to get lucky?” she chuckles as she takes a sip of whatever Yelena ordered for her.

The blonde woman shrugs as she scans her face, “Now that you mention it.”

She rolls her eyes at the suggestion and tugs on her arm to lead them away from the bar. Spotting an empty booth among the crowd of people is no easy feat however it’s not up to Yelena’s standards because she shakes her head and points to an area that’s roped off with even more bouncers guarding it.

“Did you really think I’d bring you to a club and not sit in the VIP section?” and when she doesn’t answer, she continues with her playful teasing, “Cat got your tongue? It’s okay, голубка, what I have planned doesn’t require any talking.”

Behind the ropes and bouncers, lounges Bucky with Steve and Peggy, short glasses filled with the same thick dark liquid as Peter’s. That intoxicating smell drifts in amongst the waves of other club goers’ smells and has him narrowing his eyes at nothing and everything at the same time, searching for the owner. Peggy whispers something to her husband, red lips mere inches from the shell of his ear. Steve glances to his blue eyed friend and chuckles in agreement with what she said.

“Find your companion for the night?” he taunts while taking a sip from his glass, the dark liquid leaving a slight film on his tongue.

“No,” Bucky states plainly as he sets his glass down on the table before them, “She’s here.”

Peggy snorts, “You already have her smell memorized? I see her almost everyday and I barely know it.”

“For the safety of your child, I hope you’re joking,” he says while standing and walking towards the bouncers.

In his absence, she turns to Steve, “Do you?”

“Have her smell memorized? Only enough to know the difference between the staff though. I wouldn’t give any thought to him right now, he’s all fired up over her, that Lycan woman from last night, and Alix.”

She huffs in response which earns her words of reassurance from him. Meanwhile Bucky is instructing his men to keep a close eye on Yelena and especially Sunny. When he returns to the booth, he doesn’t sit right away and takes his glass from the table. Yelena’s voice echoes past the music and noise of the club, letting him know that he is about to face confrontation no doubt. She spots him before Sunny can and she does what she can to guide her away from that booth much to his dismay and pleasure. Her efforts to distract her fail and Sunny sees Steve, giving him a small smile which falls when Bucky comes into her view. The trio pick up on parts of what she’s whispering angrily to Yelena, “What… he… here? You….me….was going to be….”

Yelena, although, hears every word loud and clear, “What is he doing here? You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”

“I didn’t know he was there. I’m sorry if it makes this,” she gestures between the two of them, “awkward. We can go somewhere else.”

“No this is ridiculous. He can’t fucking ruin everything,” she runs a hand over her hair and takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward. It’s just… a little complicated I guess.”

Yelena’s ring filled hand cups the side of her face, tilting her hand to look at her, “Nothing’s changed. Trust me I know how complicated things are when it comes to him but I won’t hold it against you if you don’t against me.”

“Ya know,” she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them, “We could just ignore him. This date is between you and I, he is not involved in any way.”

“I like the sounds of that,” Yelena whispers back as her hand shifts down to cradle her jaw, her thumb ghosting over her glossy bottom lip, “You’re going to get me in trouble if I’m not careful.”

Sunny smirks against her thumb, “Why do you say that?”

“I think you know why,” she leans impossibly closer, “Can I kiss you?” Her eyes flicker down to Yelena’s mauve lips, nodding ever so slightly before they meet in one small kiss only to be drawn back in and devour each other in the middle of a crowded club.

Having watched the whole exchange, his body tenses as her smell shifts when the kiss deepens. Jealously bubbles in his veins and the only thing stopping him from ripping Yelena to shreds is Steve’s hand on his wrist and Peggy’s reminder that “she is not yours. Stand down.” Rather than give into his animalistic urges to destroy, he settles for his usual scowl, hooded eyes trained on the couple in hopes that he can will them apart and her into his arms. His self control doesn’t last long and he’s marching over to the women in no time.

“Yelena,” he gives her a curt nod, “Sunny, I need to talk to you.”

Neither is able to protest before he is dragging her towards a closed door hidden from view by more guards until now. Yelena shots Steve a lock of contempt as she approaches their booth, “You two are absolutely no help. Why didn’t either you of stop him?” “Do you really expect me to get in between him and what he wants?” Steve says expectedly as they all know no one is stupid enough to do so.

“A heads-up would’ve been nice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re on a date with the woman he’s interested in.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #when night comes bucky barnes #vampire!bucky x reader #vampire!bucky #vampire bucky barnes #vampire au

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