#he's lost some definition in his fingers and eyebrows and teeth
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Small Surprises
Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader
TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff
A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)
Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho
EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!
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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.
And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.
But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.
That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.
Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.
She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...
This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.
"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."
Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."
Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.
"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.
"They don't look right!" She complained.
"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.
The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.
He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.
But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.
"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"
Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"
"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.
"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."
'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.
"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"
Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.
"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.
"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."
"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.
Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.
"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.
"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.
"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.
"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"
The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.
Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.
He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.
Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.
"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.
"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.
"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."
The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"
"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.
The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.
You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.
Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...
Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.
Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.
"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"
Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!
"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.
"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.
"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.
"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"
Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.
You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.
"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.
"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.
Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...
"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.
"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."
You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.
"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.
"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.
His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."
"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.
"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"
"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.
"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.
"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.
"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.
"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.
"Hippo Lady?"
"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"
"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.
"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."
"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.
"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!
What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.
That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.
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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.
You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.
And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.
Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.
You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"
You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.
One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.
His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.
He did make out the name "Steven".
"Uh--" He said awkwardly.
"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".
"Uh..."
"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.
"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.
"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.
"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.
"You..."
'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.
"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.
"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.
"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.
Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.
"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."
"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.
Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.
Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.
"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."
"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.
"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"
Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.
His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.
'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.
"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.
Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.
"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."
"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."
"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.
"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.
"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.
"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."
"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.
He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.
"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.
Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."
"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.
Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"
"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.
"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."
'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.
Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.
'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.
'Pot, meet kettle...'
'Touché...'
"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.
"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."
"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."
"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.
"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...
'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'
Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...
"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.
"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."
"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."
The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.
'Wow...'
'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.
Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.
"You okay?" You ask him.
"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."
You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.
"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.
"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.
'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.
'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'
Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.
Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.
And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.
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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.
One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.
He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.
But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.
And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.
He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...
All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.
And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.
You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.
He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.
Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--
Jake's hands stopped knitting.
Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.
When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...
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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.
She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.
"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"
"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.
"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"
You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.
And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.
In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.
He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?
And wow! So close by, too!
Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.
"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.
But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.
Then, he looked up.
You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.
You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.
"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.
"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:
Hi :)
The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.
Hello
You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.
You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.
Steven or Marc?
He smiled at you and scribbled back.
Jake
Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!
They've told me a lot about you, too.
"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.
"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".
You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.
You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.
"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.
You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.
That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.
Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.
He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.
He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".
That was how you met Jake Lockley.
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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.
But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?
It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)
You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.
You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.
It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.
The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.
For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...
They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...
But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.
Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.
That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.
You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.
"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...
"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.
You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...
But you decided to call instead.
That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...
♫"Lonely is a man,
Without looove~"♫
'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.
'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.
Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...
Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.
"H-Hello..."
"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.
'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.
'Busted.' Jake almost sang.
You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?
And then there's the phone!
Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.
You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.
Would this make you both the bad and good cop?
You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.
"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."
Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.
"Okay..." He peeped.
'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.
'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.
"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.
You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"
Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...
"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.
Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.
"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"
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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?
Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.
That would shut him up for a little while, surely.
Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).
You hesitated, at first... But...
They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.
Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.
Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.
But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.
Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.
As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.
You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.
"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.
"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."
"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.
Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.
"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"
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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.
Yeah, you knew how that story ended.
But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.
Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.
After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.
He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.
You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.
God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.
And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?
Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.
"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.
Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."
You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.
Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.
Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.
"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.
"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.
She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."
Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.
He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.
"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.
"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"
"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.
"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.
"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."
As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.
"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.
When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.
The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...
But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.
You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.
Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.
"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"
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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.
They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.
You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.
Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.
It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.
Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.
But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.
"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.
"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.
"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"
He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.
Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.
Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.
"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"
He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.
"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.
His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.
"G'night daddy."
He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.
He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.
You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.
"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"I..." He said, his voice breaking.
You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.
It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...
"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."
Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...
He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.
He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.
He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.
'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.
'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.
"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.
"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.
"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."
Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.
"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."
"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.
You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.
"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.
"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.
Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.
"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."
"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.
Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.
You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"
She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.
"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.
She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.
"There's a bird-man in my room."
#moon knight#moon boys#moon boys x reader#steven grant x reader#steven grant#marc spector x reader#marc spector#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley
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hazy
warnings: noncon, drugging
wc. 705
requested
every wednesday night, you studied at ethan’s house.
you weren’t particularly close, if you were telling the truth. he was your classmate in econ that you sat beside and you kept each other sane for two whole hours straight, rarely ever speaking outside of that.
that was until you decided to start studying together, of course. ethan was smart, you were pretty smart, and together you could probably pass the exam. at least, those were your intentions. ethan’s were far more malicious.
so when you woke up thursday morning feeling entirely discombobulated, you were a little bit - or a lot bit - lost.
“ethan?” you called out, scanning the room.
it was definitely ethan’s. you were in his bed, for one. you saw your computer and bookbag laid across his desk, along with a half-drank glsss of water that you paid no mind to. you were looking for ethan. you managed to crane your head to the right - god, you felt so sluggish - and saw him peaking through the doorway.
he flashed his teeth in a warm, innocent smile. “good morning. you passed out after a while last night. said something about feeling really tired so i let you take my bed and i slept on the couch. i hope that’s not weird or anything.”
“no - no, of course not,” you stammered, sitting up. “it’s fine. thank you.”
it was somewhat uncomfortable to move. you didn’t remember what happened last night, but your body sure did. you felt stupidly sore, slight ache spreading throughout your bottom half like wildfire. you couldn’t put your finger on it. maybe you slept in a really awkward position.
ethan seemed to notice your grimacing, donning a worried face. “what’s wrong? are you hurt?”
“i don’t know. i just feel… weird,” you replied, eyes flickering. you felt so out of it. there wasn’t really a way to explain it that made sense.
“weird how?” ethan asked, approaching you.
you shook your head, trying to remember. you remembered jotting down notes. and you remembered completely abandoning the notes to talk about movies with ethan. the rest of your memories were pretty vague until you couldn’t recall anything else at all. “like… sore. i feel like the morning after a marathon,” you joked, trying to lighten the air.
“do you need anything?” ethan questioned, rushing to your side. you could see his eyebrows furrow with concern, like he genuinely wanted to make sure that you were okay. so you fell for it. “something to eat, something to drink?”
“just some water, please.”
“you’ve got it,” he said, jogging out of the room.
you didn’t see his worried face fall and the smirk curling onto his lips when he turned the corner, thoughts of last night returning to him. you didn’t remember, but he would never forget. with how unresponsive you were, you might as well have been dead when he slipped your panties down to your ankles and forced himself deeply inside you, fucking you rough and hard.
maybe he should have been more gentle, but his lust got the best of him. he lost control of the reins, his body taking over - taking what it wanted. besides, it wasn’t all that bad that he’d gone rough on you. not for him, at least. he got to hear you tell him the effect he had on your body, how sore he made you feel even hours later.
god, could you even walk? he would love to see you limp around, obviously hurt.
and he did get to see you limp around. even better, he got to help you walk, putting on his sweet facade because he loved how you would never suspect him. not the boy that was kind enough to be your human crutch.
he remembered fucking you full of cum, time and time again until he started to wear himself out. then, cleaning you up and dressing you again, putting everything back in place. so when you got sick, pregnancy was your last guess. you thought you were just under the weather.
and of course, it was ethan who got you medicine and took care of you while you fretted about your sickness that would surely pass in a few days.
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Better Days ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
You don’t know if it’s the comedown from the meds, your period, or one of your disorders making you feel this extreme sadness but you need this feeling to go away. It’s more annoying than anything. You’re not one to compare anyone’s pain but Levi’s been through an entire war in which he lost his eye, a couple of fingers, and his ability to walk. The war in your head is nothing compared to that. So what you do is you grit your teeth and just try to ride this almost debilitating wave of misery until it’s over.
Of course you’re silly to think that Levi wouldn’t be able to tell something’s wrong. He’s lost some things but he definitely hasn’t lost his perceptiveness.
“Oi…” His tone is soft as he places a hand on your thigh, taking you out of your thoughts. You realize he’s right in front of you and he’s wearing a small frown. When did he get here?
You blink rapidly, your surroundings slowly coming into focus. “Hey.” You reply, your tone also soft but there’s an underlying tiredness in your voice and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Levi.
“You okay?” He asks you, giving you the chance to open up and be honest, his eyes looking at you with concern.
You blink a few more times, still in a bit of a daze. “Yeah, I’m just-“
“Don’t do that.” He cuts you off gently. You know what those words mean. You know better than to lie to me. And you do know better. But you also don’t want to burden him.
You give him a tired smile and continue. “Really, Levi-“
“C’mere.” He cuts you off again with a pat to his thigh, beckoning you to sit on him.
“Your legs, Levi.” You remind him, worried your weight on him will put too much pressure on the lower half of his body.
“I don’t care.” He sighs before he grabs you by the waist, surprising you with his upper body strength despite you knowing that he continues to keep himself in shape, especially when it comes to his arms and core. He places you onto his lap and positions you so that you’re sitting bridal style on him in his wheelchair.
“Levi…” You whine, although you let out a slight chuckle as your arms find their home around his neck.
“Mm?” He looks down at you, his eyebrows raised as his arms encircle you.
You roll your eyes playfully as he feigns stupidity.
He gives you a small smirk before his expression softens, concern still present in his eyes. “Seriously, what is it?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he presses his forehead against yours.
You sigh yourself before your shoulders raise in a defeated shrug as you look back up at him. “I don’t know…I’m just sad.” You give him a glum smile.
And there’s the truth. It hurts him to know you’re feeling this way and there’s no way for him to realistically help. He wishes he can reach inside you and pull all of the negative feelings out. He would swallow them himself if he could. He can deal with sadness but it’s a struggle to watch you deal with it. So for now he tries to help as best as he can through his touch, holding you tight against his chest as he places kisses on your skin. He might not know what to say but he knows how to touch you to remind you of the promise he made to you before the war, of living through better days. You are his better days. They don’t exist without you. But more importantly, you deserve better days. You deserve the laughter, the hugs, and the happy tears. Better days are coming, but they’re also here. And Levi’s willing to go through hell and back to make sure you stay for them.
#oh no she’s sad again what a big surprise#the way I’m feeling is lethalll#literally fuck my brain#I hate it here I’m tired of being like this#but better days I guess#can’t have them if we’re not here#so please stay if you’re second guessing it#big hugs to you#still on my postwar!levi kick and probably will be for a while the man is all fluff which I desperately need right now#levi#levi ackerman#levi aot#levi x reader#levi x you#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi x y/n#levi drabble#aot levi#levi comfort#postwar!levi#manda writes
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NRC Staff Story: Food Thief
Summary: Someone is stealing food in the staff break room
A/N: I feel like there's not enough crack fics featuring the staff characters! There are many days where I just want to laugh at the exploits of our beloved, silly teachers lol I love thinking about the funny hijinks they could get into as a ragtag cast of coworkers~! <3
Word Count: 1.3k
CW: crack, silly, dramatic shouting, childish insults, someone says 'ass' lol
“There is a villain in our midst.”
Professor Crewel closes the fridge door with a decisive snap of his wrist and then turns to face his colleagues assembled in the staff break room. He crosses his arms over his chest, an expression of deep annoyance plastered over his elegant features.
Raising an eyebrow, Professor Trein peers over his teacup at the younger professor and dryly asks, “Would you care to elaborate on that cryptic remark, Divus?”
Crewel briefly closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. Opening his eyes once more, he levels a petulant glare at Professor Trein and explains, “There is a thief in this room. Snacks have been taken without permission all week and now the criminal has taken something of mine.” He raises his arm and then brings it down in a grand sweeping motion, pointing a red-gloved finger at everyone in the room, “It has to be someone in this room right now! I placed a slice of apple rum cake in the fridge, stepped out of the room for ten minutes, and now I find that my cake is gone!”
Trein looks over at Coach Vargas. Leaning against the far wall, the athletics professor shifts the dumbbell in his hand to the other and then silently shakes his head at Trein. They both look over to Sam, who is lounging on a small, red sofa filling out a crossword puzzle. He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head with a small shrug of his shoulders. The three men turn their heads to look back once more at Professor Crewel.
With a weary sigh, Trein states, “No one here has taken your cake, Divus.”
Planting his hands on his hips in a defiant posture, Crewel scoffs with indignation, “I’m telling you, my cake is gone! One of you has to have taken it because no one else has come in or out of this room this whole time!”
Sam chuckles quietly and flashes an easygoing smile at Crewel. He raises a hand in a calming motion and says, “Snacks have indeed gone missing this past week, Divus. But you should remember that everyone here has also been a victim of this food thief, myself included! A thief can’t steal from himself, can he?”
Professor Crewel’s stance softens slightly as he considers Sam’s words. Narrowing his eyes, he mutters with some reluctance, “I suppose that is a good point…”
Setting his dumbbell down carefully on the floor, Coach Vargas lets out a boisterous laugh and says, “I know I definitely didn’t take it! Today isn’t a cheat day and there’s no way I’d eat the useless calories from your little cake.”
Crewel’s posture immediately bristles and he yells at Vargas, “Oh shut up, you lumbering meathead! Why don’t you go suck an egg?!”
Vargas folds his arms over his broad chest and raises an eyebrow at Crewel. “There’s no need to shout. And for your information, I’ve already had my raw egg shake for the day.”
Professor Trein slowly shakes his head and turns back to the newspaper in his lap. Without looking up, he tiredly states, “Ashton. The phrase ‘Go suck an egg’ is a dismissive insult.”
“I- I knew that!” Vargas sputters out in obvious surprise. He quickly composes himself and then glowers at Professor Crewel. Stalking over across the room, Vargas points an accusatory finger at Crewel and shouts, “Just because you lost your dumb cake somewhere, that doesn’t mean you can insult me like that! You wanna take this outside and settle this like men, you scrawny beanpole?!”
With a small huff of exasperation, Crewel sweeps back the white hair framing one side of his face. Through gritted teeth, his voice low with barely checked annoyance, he growls, “I didn’t lose my cake, you useless pile of muscles. I placed it in the fridge just a few minutes ago and now it’s disappeared!”
Slowly rolling up the sleeves of his red athletic jacket, Vargas shakes his head with restrained outrage, “Now you’ve gone and done it. No one calls my muscles useless! Let’s take this outside where I can really kick your ass!”
The two men lunge towards each other with fists raised. However, before either can strike, Sam steps smoothly in between the two and firmly pushes them apart. “Alright, gents! Let’s cool it down now. Fighting is not going to solve this situation.” He shakes his head with a playful smirk on his face and asks, “What would the students say if they saw two professors of this esteemed institution duking it out like a pair of street thugs?”
Glancing up from his newspaper, Trein scowls at the young men and remarks, “Sam is correct. You two should know better than to jump to violence over something so trivial.” Turning back to his reading, he adds with a disapproving sniff, “Do try to keep some semblance of professionalism in the workplace.”
Both Crewel and Vargas take a step back, away from each other, and exchange irritated glares. Straightening out their clothes, the two men mutter barely audible excuses. Then, as the break room door suddenly swings open, everyone turns to look at the dark figure in the doorway.
Holding a small, white paper box in his hands, Headmage Crowley takes a few steps into the room and turns to address Professor Trein, “Ah! Mozus! Do you have the test scores I asked to see this morning?” Opening the box in his hands, he takes out a small wooden fork and nonchalantly takes a bite of the apple rum cake packaged inside.
Blinking rapidly with utter disbelief, Crewel furiously points at the box in Crowley’s hands and shouts, “That’s my cake! How did you get that?!”
Crowley, startled by the sudden outburst, regains his composure and answers in a matter-of-fact kind of voice, “I got it from the fridge, of course.”
Sam shakes his head in bewilderment and explains, “What Divus means to say is, how did you get the cake from the fridge, Crowley? None of us saw you come into the break room to take it.”
Taking another bite of cake, Crowley answers, “Ah yes! I’ve had a small mirror portal installed in the back of the fridge so that I can grab myself a snack without having to walk all the way from my office to the break room.”
A heavy, thoughtful silence fills the room as the group considers Crowley’s explanation. Without a word, Coach Vargas strides over to the fridge and opens it wide. Looking inside, everyone takes in the sight of a miniature mirror portal, about the size of a dinner plate, attached to the back wall of the fridge and half-hidden behind some tall juice cartons. A collective sigh of disappointment and frustration is heard as they all turn back to glare at Crowley.
Closing his eyes tight with a grimace, Trein pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “Crowley, those snacks all belonged to various member of the staff. You’ll have reimburse everyone you stole from.”
Professor Crewel raises a hand high in the air and angrily shouts, “You can start with me, seeing as how you’re literally eating my cake as we speak!”
Crowley glances down at the paper box in his hands and then looks back up with a nervous laugh. Taking a step backwards through the open door, he calls out in a fast-paced, reassuring tone, “Ah! Yes, of course! I’ll just go a fetch my wallet now so that I can pay you back for this delicious cake!” Crowley then turns and hurries off down the hallway.
The four men watch the animated headmage disappear into the distance and sit for a minute in silence. Breaking the quiet moment with a cynical laugh, Sam mutters to himself, “We’re never going to get paid back.”
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst imagines#twst fanfic#night raven college#twst staff#dire crowley#divus crewel#mozus trein#ashton vargas#twst sam#bun-lapin écrit
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Sipping on fire - JJ Maybank Smut
A/N: I love this gif your honor. Also, please only interact if you’re 18+
Warning: unprotected sex, fingering, cursing, JJ being adorable, p in v, and I think that’s it! Other than it being written at 5 am and unedited, that is!
The first night of summer bonfire was a tradition that John B had started with the pogues and since you were Sarah’s best friend, you had been invited to tag along. You were a kook, but you tended to pride yourself on not being stuck up like most of them. In fact, according to your friends, you were a pogue in a kooks world, and you definitely agreed.
You had more fun on the cut in the last few months than you had on figure eight on any given day. There was an era of chaos with the pogues that you grew very fond of everytime you hung out with them. You never knew what was going to happen, and that was part of why you loved it so much. It was spontaneous and you got to live life on the edge.
“Alright, guys. Sarah and I are going to head to bed. Feel free to crash wherever you may fall.” John B’s voice rang out as he helped a very giggly Sarah inside, a wave following the gesture before the screen door closed. There was a comfortable silence that was accompanied by the crackling of the fire, a laugh suddenly ringing out from Kiara. “They are so going to go fuck.” The rest of you agreed and an easy conversation fell over you all as you kept the night rolling.
A little while later, Kiara started to yawn along with Pope and they both retired into the chateau to pass out on the couch. That left you and JJ, the both of you completely buzzed and not wanting to leave the serenity of the fire and the stars above you. You both were just enjoying the time, minds incapacitated and wandering. “You know, you don’t have to be a stranger. I won’t bite.” Your words cut through JJ’s train of thought as you nodded to the empty seat next to you, inviting him over instead of sitting across from you.
He got up and walked over, a chuckle leaving his lips as he raised his beer and took a sip. “That’s a shame, it would be hot if you did.” His words made you laugh, your eyes rolling on instinct. JJ was one of your favorites out of the group, he always made you laugh and feel some type of way. The easy banter between the two of you was always welcomed, especially when you were intoxicated and oh boy were you drunk tonight.
You had been doing shot after shot with Sarah, the tequila and vodka mixing and tasting like the best decision in the world. You had been letting loose all night and you had barely noticed that you had caught JJ’s attention early on. You were wearing an outfit that Sarah specifically picked for you to use to try and get his attention, but you hadn’t figured it had worked.
You were lost in thought when you felt his gaze on you, an eyebrow arching in question as you looked at the blonde haired boy. “Do I have something on my face?” Your words were meant to be a joke, but JJ shook his head, his eyes locked on your lips. “You just look really kissable right now.” His gaze was dark and lustful and it went straight through you, your lip pulling in between your teeth. “Kiss me then.”
He didn’t hesitate, his lips pressing to yours in a sloppy, yet passionate kiss. He tasted like a mix of alcohol and weed and the taste was intoxicating, a low groan leaving your lips. At the sound, he pulled back and looked at you. There was a look of something feral that flashed in his eyes, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Sweetheart, I haven’t even touched you yet.” His words went straight to your core, an involuntary whimper sounding from somewhere foreign inside of you.
He pulled you back in for another kiss, his hands finding your hips as your hands tangled in his hair. The kisses were getting more and more desperate as the seconds passed, teeth and tongues clashing as he carefully moved you to straddle his lap. His eyes ran over you, your hair tangled from his fingers and your lips puffy from kissing him. You looked absolutely breathtaking, and it made him hard to know he was the reason. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His words accompanied sloppy kisses to your neck, your hips moving down to grind against his as the breath caught in his throat.
The two of you had been eyeing each other all night, and the tension was finally coming undone. As you attached your lips back to his, you could feel his hands sliding up your thighs under your dress. “You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking night.” His words were almost a primal sound now, lust sinking into his every word as he squeezed your ass. You let out a groan and let yourself bite his bottom lip, the action causing him to immediately want you then and there.
You felt his hands move to push your panties aside, a finger instantly pushing into your wetness as your head fell back. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until now, another one of his fingers sliding in easily. Your let a string of moans leave your lips as he watched you intently. Every single curl of his fingers had you going absolutely feral, moans of his name filling the quiet night.
Little did you know, he had thought about this a lot. Every since Sarah started bringing you around, he wondered how you would look on top of him. His fingers and his cock deep inside of you. He has made it his personal mission to get you and hear you moan his name, and now that he had heard it, he might be addicted. Your voice that was usually sickly sweet was now broken and strained from pleasure, breathy whines going straight to his cock.
“I’m getting close.” Your whines were getting more and more desperate as his thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers skillfully worked in and out of your dripping wet pussy. “Come for me, baby girl. Come all over my fingers.” The words were enough to finish you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips you felt the coil winding tighter and tighter in your stomach. His words kept repeating in your mind as you let out the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, the coil finally snapping as you let yourself finish all over his hand. He helped you to ride out your high, his fingers instantly going into his mouth to taste you as your forehead fell against his shoulder. Your chest was heaving, your breaths coming out in uneven pants as you tried to keep your composure.
However, the feel of his fingers inside you had you wanting more. If he was that good with his fingers, you could only imagine how good he was with his cock. “I wanna make you feel good now.” Your words were mixed with uneasy breaths before he shook his head, a smirk forming on his lips. “Baby girl, there will be plenty of time for that. I wanna be inside of you right now.” At his words, you were helping him to unzip his pants and maneuver his boxers so he could get his cock out.
The size of it made you audibly moan as he rubbed the tip between your folds, his gaze watching yours intently for any sign that he should stop. When none came, he slowly pushed into you, a low guttural moan leaving his lips as he completely filled you up. “Oh my fuck.” His hands found your hips as you started to ride him at a steady pace, his cock hitting just the right spot every single time.
Feral moans were leaving both of your lips as you kissed him hungrily again, moans being swallowed by both of you. His kisses were intoxicating and you didn’t think you could ever get enough, the all too familiar pressure building up in your stomach again. “I-I’m close again, JJ.” Your voice was coming from a place of desperation and need as his cock filled you up thrust after thrust, his own high staring to build.
“Come with me, baby.” His voice was strained and desperate as the movements between the two of you started to get more and more sloppy. He was trying to thrust into you, his timing being thrown off by the chair you were sitting in. “I-I can’t-.” You let out another desperate sound as you came around his cock, your pussy clenching around him as you rode out your release on him. The feeling of you coming done on top of him had him closely following suit, his cum coming out in white hot sports as he filled you up. His breaths were coming out in short, rapid pants as you sat there and tried to catch your breath before you moved to get off of him.
The loss of pressure inside of you as you got off was a disappointing feeling, your hands moving down to smooth out your dress as you sat back down beside him again. He wrapped an arm around you and you found yourself leaning against his shoulder, your chest heaving again as you let your eyes shut. “Holy fuck.” The both of you chuckled as he tucked himself back into his pants, blue eyes looking at you through blown pupils. “That was even better then I ever could’ve imagined.” He looked down into your eyes again, his lips finding yours for a few short pecks.
“You’ve thought about that before, huh?” Your teasing words made a slight blush break out over his cheeks as he nodded and smirked, “I’m not going to lie and say no. I’ve had a thing for you for a while.” His confession had you absolutely wheeling, a blush breaking out across your face as you pushed your hair back off your face. “Good thing I’ve had a crush on you for a while too.”
Your response made him grin as he stood up, holding his hand out to you. “Well, then my lady, wanna accompany me to bed?” He fake bowed as laughter left your lips, your eyes sparkling as you nodded. “You’re such a dork, but you’re lucky you’re cute.”
#jj maybank fic#jj maybank x fem!reader#Jj Maybank x reader#obx imagines#obx x you#obx x y/n#obx x reader#obx smut#jj maybank x you#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fanfiction#obx fanfiction#obx imagine
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Teeth
Part 7!
Werepanther! Billy Russo x Female Reader
Masterlist
Warnings: Smut (18+), voyeurism, exhibitionism, use of sex toys, just.... absolute dumbassery.
For my loves, @idaofinfinity, @marvelmusing, @stardustmorozov, @frying-panties, @iamgettingalife, @icannotbetrustedalone, @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend. Some of the people that never fail to hold me upright when I feel like a.... limp, barely watered plant. 😅❤
"Are you following?" He asks.
You give him a slow nod of your head.
"I'm thinking." You answer.
You scrunch your eyebrows slightly together, absentmindedly tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, biting down.
He shifts a little bit in his chair.
"We should definitely split these two systems, too much foot traffic puts the auxiliary at risk."
You get lost in thought, looking off into the corner of his office, thinking aloud about the specs necessary to make the system better.
You catch yourself, blinking in realisation that you'd been zoned out for the better part of a minute, turning back to him, to find him staring at you with the strangest expression on his face.
"Sorry- bad habit of zoning out. Where were we?"
His mouth pulls into a slow smile, you feel the pace of your heart pick up in your chest.
"Do you like strawberries?" He asks, a curious tilt of his head.
The sudden conversation shift makes you a little nervous.
You gulp.
"Yeah, they're my favourite." You respond simply.
"Great, one of our clients sent us a thank you gift," he murmurs, reaching into the mini fridge that sits beside his desk, and pulling out the cutest little tray of strawberries, "but they sent way too much. Would you like some?"
Your fingers twitch, eyes carefully assessing the plump fruit, mouth watering at the beautiful sight of them.
"You're sure it's okay?" You ask, meeting his eyes.
William nods, extending the little box to you. You reach out to cup the tray between both hands.
"They sent about five of these, you can have the entire thing if you'd like."
"Thank you, Mister Russo." You say happily as the little tray rests in your hands.
"No, wait, one condition." He says, you look up at him in surprise.
"Call me Billy? Please?"
It takes you a moment, eyes flitting between the strawberries and his handsome face.
"Okay, Billy."
The smile you share is something... more. You feel a connection, trace its way down your spine, something like friendship blooming between you.
"Would you like one?" You offer, extending the tray to him after picking up a pretty one for yourself.
He nods, reaching for a strawberry of his own.
You bring the strawberry to your nose first, breathing in the delicious scent, before pressing the cool fruit to your lips.
The delicious tangy juice spills into your mouth, you try your hardest to mask your sound of appreciation.
The fruit is delicious, smells sweeter than it actually is, your mouth flooding with the taste of it, letting the juice trickle down your throat.
You glance up at him, worried that he's staring at you, but he's not, looking out of the window instead, as he brings the fruit to his mouth.
Some of the juice spills onto his fingers, and you feel your body pull taut as he sucks the tips of his middle and index fingers into his mouth.
There's an obscene sucking sound as he cleans his fingers, and you get caught in lustful thoughts.
That's what he'd look like if he licked his fingers clean after-
You swallow, an unbelievable amount of need pulsing under your skin.
You needed to get even with him. You needed him to understand how mindless he made you, a very dangerous plan forming in your head.
.
He takes away your ability to think critically. It's like a high, being near him, thinking about him, catching glimpses of him in his apartment. He snatches every coherent thought, until you're all lust and no worry.
You didn't exactly think this through and you knew it, simply ordering an item online, even splurging on express shipping, so that it gets here faster.
Yet somehow you're still surprised when it shows up at your door on Saturday.
You're careful, pulling the curtains shut, sitting on your couch, cross legged before ripping the package open.
You gulp at the size of it, you've never had something so big in you, but it's the one thing you'd seen that had made you immediately think of him.
It's a translucent silicone dildo, tinted puple, with a suction cup built into the base.
You swallow, examining it carefully, thinking about the best way to torment him, hoping that he finally understands how badly you want him.
The ache for him transcends need, it's beyond desire, it feels like something deep inside of you, the very building blocks of your soul. You can't think straight, you can't focus, your cunt is wet with yearning, your body absolute- with the ideas of what it wants.
What could he even do? Realistically? He was your neighbour, and sometimes intimate things observed can be... accidental.
.
Billy's had a long Saturday.
His back is almost aching with all the errands he's had to run today, he's eager for a long shower and a glass of bourbon to help him sleep.
He drops his keys and wallet on his counter, sheds his shirt and kicks off his pants, leaves them where they are and decides to worry about them tomorrow.
His shower is good, steaming hot- it fogs the glass around him, he's relaxed after such an enduring day. The scent of his body wash is good, the cleanser he uses on his face makes him feel clean and he feels the grime of the day leave him.
His bathroom tiles are heated, a good expense to ensure he's comfortable.
He tugs on loose pants, something to protect his modesty while he grabs the bottle of Angel's Envy from the top shelf of his liquor cabinet.
Three fingers worth of amber liquid, one long sip that soothes him.
He feels his body relax.
It had really been a long day.
He decides to check in on you, moving to his living room, that stood on a level just a little bit higher than your bedroom, perfectly in line so that whenever your curtains were open, he'd be able to see-
The glass in his hand shatters.
It takes him a moment, for his brain to start working, for the blood swiftly redirecting to his cock to allow him to process what he's looking at.
God, what a sight.
The predator, that has been silent since he got home, finally roars to life inside of him.
Unable to stop, he finds himself as close to the window as possible, but just far enough away that the fog of his breath does not cloud his vision.
The way you look.
There's nothing he can compare it to, Venus herself would gaze at you with envy, or perhaps the same way he looks at you now, with unending awe.
It's surprising, how much thought he still has left in him, considering what you're doing, that he has the time to admire the way you look.
But how could he not?
When there's a beauty to you he's never witnessed before, when there's a voice inside of him demanding he kneel before such decadence.
You don't even know, is his next pained thought, you don't even know how you look, too lost in chasing your own pleasure to admire yourself.
So Billy takes his time, and makes an attempt to sear your captivating figure into his memory.
Your hips are canting backwards, in short, rhythmic strokes. On your knees, on top of your bed, face pressed into your sheets, impaling your needy cunt on the fake cock stuck to your headboard.
His ears hone in on you, the predator pushing his senses to the max, so that he can hear every sound you make.
Obscenely wet, is his first thought, magnificently sweet is his second.
Each backward movement of your hips pulls an endearing gasp from your mouth, as if the pathetic dildo is just borderline too big for you.
His fists clench at his sides.
The worst part is, that you're begging. As if you're not in control of your own pleasure, as if it's someone else, you beg, sweet little words of 'please' and 'more' dropping from your mouth so easily.
Absentmindedly, he realises that you're still clothed, a little purple nightdress, that ends at the curve of your rear, protecting your skin from his ravenous eyes.
Then, to his fucking surprise- as if anything else could surprise him, you turn your head, open your eyes, and look right at him.
And heaven save him, you smile, and begin rock your hips harder.
"Oh fuck, that's so good." He hears you say, head turning back to press your forehead to the sheets, hands fisting the white material in your hands.
You know he's watching, and it gives you pleasure.
Billy can hear his own frantic breaths, loud in the stillness of his house.
"Oh god, fuck I'm so close, please."
He has the afterthought that he's about to watch you cum.
He can't move, he can't look away, he can barely hear the panther in his head, raging at him, all of it is drowned out, all of it is washed away by you.
The sound you make when your orgasm hits sends tingles down his spine. It's something low and sweet, and the beast inside of him demands that he go to you and make you scream.
He almost does it.
He almost rips every door off its hinges in an attempt to get to you, but that's before you pause, turn your head to look at him once more, and begin to fuck yourself to a second orgasm.
It hits him then, that delighted smile of yours when you see him looking, it makes him realize how much of a brat you are.
And Billy didn't indulge brats.
He tamed them.
He waits till your second orgasm is over, till you pull yourself off of that pathetic fake cock with shaking thighs and drops yourself into an exhausted heap nearby.
He watches you breathe for a moment, before turning to grab his phone.
.
You groan a little when your phone rings, stomach flipping when you reach for it on your nightstand to see his name on screen.
It's a harmless accident, you brief yourself, and you swipe to answer.
"Hello?" You say with a shaky voice.
"That was quite a show. But I need you to understand something."
"What?" You ask, a little scared and a little breathless.
"I'm much bigger than that."
The line goes dead.
.
Harmless, an accident.
I didn't mean for you to see that.
These are the things you repeat to yourself as you walk into Anvil on Monday morning. You're not too worried, considering what he'd said to you the very night over the phone.
I'm much bigger than that.
God, was that even possible? How were you going to take him if you could barely take that dildo?
You're not going to be taking him, he's your boss, your head reminds you.
She was right, your brain, getting involved with him was a bad idea, a very bad idea.
The thought of it though, of having him, of crawling into bed with him, holding him close throughout the night, finding endless passionate encounters, made you ache with want.
This was bad.
He was your boss, you shouldn't be thinking about him like this.
But you couldn't help it, you wanted him like nothing before.
You're hoping to see him, you catch yourself daydreaming about it, that he would find an excuse to come to you, lean against your desk and say something, anything, ask you about your day, or how your project is coming along, maybe show you exactly how big he would be-
You swallow, clicking your pen repeatedly for a moment before getting control of yourself.
You sigh, shoulders dropping, a sad realization seeping into you.
You wanted him.
You don't get a chance to see him for the entire day.
Your banter goes unsaid.
.
Billy was using all of his willpower to remain human right now.
The full moon was close, the predator in his head was roaring at full volume.
On edge, he grips the sides of his chair hard, hears something crack.
From the moment you entered the building- he knew. Your body was calling out to him.
A sweet cherry scent, a few citrus notes added in and he knew.
You were ovulating.
Sure, you'd been fertile in his presence before, once or twice in the last few months, but it hadn't been as strong as this, and never this close to a full moon.
His self control was being tested like never before.
The predator pushes images of you, open and naked below him, the feel of your hand on his cheek, the way he'd press deeper into your touch.
Billy takes a shallow breath.
The slow way he'd take his time, fitting himself into you, watching you take every inch of him that you could.
Or maybe your legs on his shoulders, folding you in half while he makes you take every inch of him into your sweet pussy, swallowing each cry from your perfect mouth, a controlling hand wrapped around the column of your throat, feeling your cunt tighten around him as his hand tightens on your throat-
Billy shudders, body shaking with the effort to keep him human, his teeth elongates involuntarily, and he realises that he can't stay here, if he does, there is no telling of what he might do.
He stands, doesn't grab much more than his keys and his phone, and hightails it.
He almost wants to die when he smells your scent grow stronger, tapping on the elevator call button rapidly as if that brings it any faster.
The beast fights him, pulls at him to find you, your sweet scent compromising his self control.
The elevator arrives and he steps in, pressing the floor he wants.
Your voice, a little call, asking to hold the elevator.
When he reaches for the close door button instead, the beast manages to take control for a moment, pressing the button to open the doors instead.
Fuck.
He's rigid when you step in.
.
"Oh, Billy, hey, hello." You say, a smile pulling onto your face.
He looks angry, staring forward, but he manages to give you a nod, and a low sound of your name in greeting.
You swallow, wondering if you should interact or not, maybe he was busy with something else.
"How are you doing? I hope your weekend was great." You try, offering something easy and casual. Smalltalk was a little menial, but it wasn't bad for a casual interaction.
Except, that he doesn't respond.
You turn away from facing him, blinking at the elevator doors.
Maybe he wasn't up to interacting with you today.
.
Don't kiss her don't kiss her don't kiss her don't kiss her-
Billy tenses every muscle in his body to stop the predator from seizing control of him.
Hands pinned beside your head, legs wrapped around his hips, quiet moans and helpless gasps as he kisses you senseless, eager to steal your senses, desperate to make a place inside of you for himself-
Your body crying out for him and you don't even know it, your scent filling the enclosed space, torturing him. His little mate, so fucking sweet and delectable, standing beside him and doesn't know how badly he wants to sink his tongue between your thighs, drown you with pleasure until you're so sated on him that you can't walk.
Why was he fighting himself so hard again?
Right, he was your boss, and he didn't want to make you think that the only reason he'd hired you was to sleep with you.
He clears his throat when the doors open, tilting his head in your direction.
"Have a nice day." He says, before stepping out.
.
He hadn't even stepped out onto the floor he'd selected.
You blink, eyebrows drawn together, wondering why he'd stopped out on the fifth floor when he was going down to the parking lot in the basement.
You smile automatically when a few other people step in.
Did he leave because he wanted to get away from you faster?
Your shoulders drop sadly.
.
.
.
#werepanther!billy russo#teeth#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo x female reader#the punisher#billy russo smut#monster!billy#monster!billyrusso#my writings
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Hi! Can I request a Officer x female!Nurse reader during a zombie apocalypse? The Officer would be the stalker-ish, possessive type who’s made it clear he’s protecting her from the others because she’s one of the best at her job. But in reality, he’s just making excuses to be close to her—always hovering when not  patrolling the hospital. Could you possibly add like…non-consensual touching/kissing, definitely power imbalance, manipulation in the form of comfort. Maybe nsfw if you can?
A/N: started this a while ago but only just now got around to finishing it in a... "semi-decently" way.
Synopsis: you're a nurse healing those still alive after the start of the apocalypse; unfortunately for you, a certain annoying guard has made it his mission to have your undivided attention.
TW: noncon kissing, touching, feeling up, etc., intimidation, power imbalance, general sexual assault warnings, zombie apocalypse/infected theme
WC: 3600
“Oh come on now, I didn’t hit him that hard.”
“You literally pummeled the man to the ground!” The underwhelmed attitude of the guard trailing behind made you dig your fingers into your temples. “He lost his front tooth, Kain. And the guild wants MY head for it.”
Pacing through the halls of the abandoned hospital, you make your way to the opposing wing, Kain following quickly on your heels.
“Don’t honestly tell me you’re worried about the ‘guild’. " Kain speaks, creating quotes with his fingers. “You’re the only nurse they got who’s actually qualified enough to do a damn decent job.They can’t get rid of you, they need you too much.”
You make a sharp turn into an old hospital room, throwing Kain off. He stumbles over himself to follow, while you quickly distract yourself with the limp body resting on a raised bed in the middle of the room. You hurriedly picked at the bloodied bandages of one of your fellow survivors, the mangled man out cold under the wool sheets as you began to inspect him. The process was like clockwork, being what most of your job had become now that you were stuck with flesh-eating monsters and a third of the human population left, most of which was crippled in some way or another.
Kain peeks up from behind you, irritated yet curious as to what was more important than responding to him. His head popped up next to yours as he looked at the bandaged man, giving a bothersome frown.
“You shouldn’t have been talking to anyone about me, period. This all could’ve all just been avoided, Kain.”
Kain opens his mouth to speak, looking like an awed fish as you berate him.
“Who in their right mind cripples one of their own men?” You mumble under your breath, hoping he wont hear lest he throws a fit. "Now, can’t you see I’m working here? You’re getting in my way.”
You push past him to throw away the old gauze and stained bandages.
Kain’s constant look of mild amusement faded.
“Ya should’ve heard what he was sayin’ about you. Then, you might not feel that way.”
You avoided Kain’s sharp stare, pretending to not listen as you pulled open a drawer beside the hospital bed.
Lifting his eyebrows in suggestion, Kain rested his hands on the front of his patrol vest, continuing to chew his gum with feigned nonchalance. “Like a piece a meat…” He muttered.
Clearing your throat you ripped open a new package of gauze with your teeth, avoiding Kain; Maybe it’d be best if you changed the topic.
“Well… What are you still doing here in the first place? I thought you were supposed to be at your new transfer by this morning…”
You remembered primarily because you thought it’d be your first day of freedom.
Kain rubbed his nose with his thumb, trying to hide a wide grin that showed his dimples.
“I’ve been stationed to protect the hospital for another six months.. Just found out this morning. Some other guy wanted to go and…the guild commander thought my talents would be better off here.”
Your face dropped. The sliver of fragile hope you held onto, shattered. Finally, you thought, you’d be rid of the overbearing coos and humiliating social teasing, his invasive bullying-- the dream seemed to fizzle out like the end of a candle wick, slow and sad. You began to rewrap the survivor’s wounds, hands on autopilot while your stomach sank.
And like a switch, your annoyed tone was spat back at him.
“Okay?” You shrugged.
You had been Kain’s prime victim when picking meaningless fights for the past eight months, his presence like a wall of muscle in your path. But no more, you wouldn’t sit and entertain his bullshit for another half a year.
“If that’s true, then nothing’s changed. Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?” You swat Kain away with your hands like a fly. “Go stand guard or something. Be useful.”
You pinned the end of the final bandage, rearranging the patients scratchy bedsheets. Without another word you began to walk away.
Kain grunted in annoyance, watching you turn into the adjacent room across the hall to leave him in the dust.
“Well, you never know,” Kain shouted, running after you across the hallway. “You might come up against a stray infected. I know you haven’t had this set up for long, the doors hardly do anything to keep a draft from blowing through. What happens if I’m not there quick enough? You’d need someone much bigger, and much… stronger than you, to protect you.”
You let out an exasperated noise, recognizing the insult in his words. But Kain didn’t mean it as an insult; he was thinking of other… things.
“Besides, you need protecting just from the things in here you can’t handle, and I decide to offer my assistance-- at a zero cost.”
You scoff again. “What do you mean ‘things I can’t handle’?” You copy his previous quotation movement, half distracted by rummaging through a large cardboard box of old medical supplies.
Kain follows you inside the room, seeing your back turned to him next to an empry hospiral bed. A lightbulb went off over his head, his printless fingers grabbing the privacy curtain and pulling it. The curtain surrounding the bed, you, and him-- clouding the fluorescent lights from the hallway. The ones inside the hospital room flickered, barely making the guards face visible.
“Something like this.”
An arm traps you from behind, one of Kain’s scarred palms leaning on the wall next to your head. You turn around to look at him with a scowl, not yet realizing what he was trying.
From the corner of your vision you saw the mean glint in Kain’s eye.
A smug, egotistical smirk rested on his face.
“I can see it now…. some band of other survivors coming in, raidin' what they could and stumbling across you,” He pushed his dirty blonde hair back with his free hand, calloused fingers sticking out his glovelettes. “So helpless in your dirty scrubs, scared and alone….What would you do? Would you even be able to defend yourself?”
He watched as your eyes shifted, trying to avoid him as you attempted to shove your way out. But he was a wall of muscle and pheromones, a light slap telling him to knock it off wasn’t going to cut it this time.
And this, was exactly what you were trying to avoid.
Kain shoved your shoulder against the wall, pushing his nose against the sensitive front of your neck; it nearly made you grunt from surprise.
“Ah…” You felt him exhale, licking his lips against your jugular. “What a cute bitch…You smell so fresh, So different than all the rotten corpses in here. Maybe we should take this one to go, huh boys? I’m sure they’d all like a turn.” Kain said to himself.
You try to swat at him again but he catches your other arm, wrenching it back behind you. "That's not funny, asshole!”
Kain gave an angry laugh, your stubbornness testing the edge of his limits. His harshness and your violent panic ruined any playful mood left.
“You know, you really don’t understand how lucky you are; how much I care about you. Just trying to-- protect you.” Kain struggled to keep you compliant, and to keep his urges at bay. his eyes wildly flit between staring at your lips to your soft exhausted body, the one now in his hands, bulging from his fingertips. For a moment his attention seems to linger on the shallow movement of your chest, falling and rising with each worried breath. But it soon pulls back to your rageful glare, a harsh swallow coming from his throat.
“Why won’t you just take my help? I want what’s best for you, Don't you understand that...” He couldn’t stop looking at your sweet lips, downturned into a frown-- a frown he wanted to kiss away.
In his mind, when he imagined kissing you he thought you’d be stunned at first-- but would quickly fall into his arms, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline.
“Fuck it..” Kain murmured under his breath.
He didn’t spare any time, knowing you'd put up resistance no matter how well he tried to swoon you. Leaning down to get his first taste of you, sweet kisses lapped at your lips before you came to realize what was going on. The curious, self-interested pecks to your lips were so cautious at the start, until Kain’s mouth began to grow lewd. He took your slack jaw as permission to greedily devour your tongue to the fullest. His mouth seemed to fit like a puzzle piece against yours, twisting upward to savor your mouth. You were surprised but not all shocked-- though, this was the first time he had tried to kiss you directly.
“Kain,” He let go but swiftly kissed again under your chin, gliding down your jawbone to your ear. “For the last time-- don't make me fucking hit you--!”
Kain drug his tongue up your skin, pinning your arm behind your back to shove you further against the wall; any closer and you'd be a part of it. He took in deep whiffs of your homey smell, of the sensation of your warm skin and its smoothness on his.
"What're you going to do about it? Gonna fight me off?" The thought made him give you a cheeky grin; it was almost too easy.
When was the last time he touched something so plush… so calming compared to the flesh wound that was what was left of the world? Even the sounds of your labored breaths made Kain…excited. When it came to your body pressed and aligned with his, he couldn't help but feel overly eager in wanting to push and press you flush against him.
“Stop-! You can’t do that here-- ”
But with your writhing body and fingers digging into his scalp, he realized that doing such a feat would be harder than he imagined. Your days of carrying injured survivors into their beds and helping unload traincarts of medical supplies made you nearly a worthy rival in strength.
"Can't stop now…" you heard him mumble, a big, warm hand coming to grip your chin. He was above you, caging you in with the biceps you mocked were more well-formed than his brain. Your hand was still pinned behind you as he pushed his squishy chest against yours.
You dug in your pocket for one of the two needles you always kept on hand. You pulled out the one with a peeling sticker-- its purpose for telling the difference between the two. This particular syringe held enough to sedate a horse-- which, you complemented to Kain’s large size.
You held it up like a knife, test-squeezing a little bit of the serum out.
Kain was busy nestled into your neck one moment, and the next he wasn’t. You were so sure he had forgotten about the hand you were raising, that you paid little attention to the one pinned behind you.
Without notice that he had even caught you, the guard tugged at the wrist behind your back, twisting it against the wall unnaturally. Your breath caught into your throat, body tensing as your forearm let out a crunched pop. A weak moan of agony came from your mouth, Kain’s hand that was once petting you possessively, now slowly taking the needle from your shaking fingers.
You tried to fight him, attempting to stab him then and there. But you were no match, not when your right arm was continuing to be crushed, the longer you tustled him for the syringe.
Kain lets out a triumphant laugh, throwing the needle behind him.
“Nice trick; I didn’t know you were such a flirt, nurse. How did you know I liked a little fight?”
Kain doesn't hesitate to dig both hands into your back pants pockets, allowing you the grace of cradling your throbbing arm. He felt up what he could while removing the other syringe, and keys from your pocket.
“Now,” He started, pulling your head back toward the wall with a grip on your hair. “Let’s see this pretty mouth do what it was meant for.”
Kain practically suffocated you with his body, pinning you back as he slowly pushed his thumb into your mouth.
"Ahh-thole!" You tried to sound out.
Kain watched your plump lips open around his finger; you attempted to bite the digit invading your personal space, but Kain yoinked down on your lower jaw first. The officer pushed the pad of his finger against your tongue, sensations of the muscles smooth wetness making him shudder; your startled sounds of awe only spurring him on, the glint of drooling interest in his eyes shifting to one of excited admiration.
Your stomach sank as you saw the shift in his expression, the peak of his interest making him look like a dog in heat. You were afraid he might miss your lips and smash straight into your cheek. Kains thumb was quickly replaced with his tongue, slowly gliding against your lips as he bit their fullness. He tasted bitter, like thick smoke and faint tobacco.
Kain on the other hand, was finally…finally, getting to experience the sensation of your arousing mouth, the one he had fantasized about so many times. He fantasized about how they'd taste during your first kiss, while he ran his fingers against the dip of your back, how they'd look around his c--
Your relentless teeth made blood trickle from his bottom lip, surprising the guard as he let out a pained groan. But Kain was too stubborn, he wouldn't let you go just like that! He had gone too far now, he couldn't go back to the way things were-- he needed you, needed this.
But you felt so lewd, Kain’s forced kisses making a slew of wet sounds as he occasionally slowed to pull at your lips with his teeth for payback, leisurely grinding against whatever he could press up against. Lord, it was like a high from the heavens for him; your body, your smell, it was enveloping him in a joy he hadn’t felt since... Well, since he could last remember.
Your knee came to push deep against the officer’s crotch. You could feel the shift in between his legs as you shoved as hard as you could.
Kain let out a muffled groan, separating from you for a moment. But he only returned with a bitter laugh, kissing you between revengeful bites.
"Sweet little nurse," Kain singsonged, looking at how you winced at the burn of raw bites left on your lips. Your feet shuffled underneath, twisting and turning to wriggle your knee deeper into his crotch. "How're you gonna fight off the big bad officer? Hm?"
Kain’s leg rammed between your thighs, forcing them apart. He dug the toe of his boots into the wall, positioning so you were practically sitting on his leg.
"Fuck you," you spat, hating the way he pulled at the back of your collar to lift your head back, making it easier to kiss you. "Eat shit and die, Kain. I'm not your fucking toy-!"
The officer giggled like a schoolboy, feeling a painfully intoxicating sting from your words. The anger and yearning made it harder for him to see straight.
"We'll see about that…!" He huffed, lifting your jaw to the sky. A long, wet stripe made its way down from your chin to your ear, a shudder leaving Kain’s mouth as he swallowed the salty tang of your skin.
You heard low chatter from the radio attached to his hip, his name repeated by a deep voice.
“Officer K..ain.. four..… intruders…4--” The voice was cutting in and out, static making the message hardly discernible.
“Shit…” Kain huffed, kissing through words as the corner of his lip became smeared with blood. “Why now-- for mm.. fuck’s sake….”
Kain’s head fell low as he left your lips, hanging in frustration. You were gasping for breath as you turned your head to the side, dizziness coming in a small wave.
The surface of your skin felt hot, a sharp taste left in your mouth from Kain. The officer was currently licking over his lips, tasting the remains of your sweat and his own blood.
Your head throbbed; the sterile stench of the hospital clung inside your nostrils, thick coughs coming from the room over, your 'patient' likely still feeling the twinge of his insides bleeding out. How could you still be dealing with Kain's bullshit, while the world around you was continuing to be mauled and raped by the disease plaguing your species?
The officer was an effective distraction from your nursery duties, his grating voice interrupting your thoughts as he still clung to you.
“Nurse, help me out,” He whined. “I can’t go out there looking like this!" Cain threw his hands down, letting you go to your surprise. "C’mon what do I do? You're the expert.”
You saw what kain was referring to, his hand covering a bite of retaliation you left on his neck, and the crotch of his black pants billowing out in a restrained fashion.
“Dear g-- Kain!” your immediate reaction was to shove kain back away from you, But the guard held a hand to his forehead, hardly lurching backward from your assault. You hit him afain, repeatedly punching at him to get him back for all thar had transpored. But kain merelt pushed his hair back to show his glistening forehead, barely holding up a palm to protect himself.
Kain chuckled wryly, groping at himself in a futile effort to make his erection less noticeable.
“This is all your fault--! Fucking…Asshole--” You grunt, mumbling curses as you pushed at the man again. “You don’t have the time, anyway. Get out of here, go do your damn job.” Wiping your mouth, you look at his radio.
You were tempted to chew him out as he stood still, but Kain got to you first. Rubbing at your neck to get rid of his love bites, you fell prey to Kain’s harsh shove of your shoulders against the wall. He seemed to throw you around like a stuffed animal, his strength
Kain grabbed your shoulders, shoving you against the wall again. You let out an involuntary “umph”, as the officer pressed his flushed forehead against yours. His fingers reached for your chin again as you tried to jerk your head away.
“Look at me-- before I go,” His voice grew low and harsh as he whispered, the clear stomps of other officers clicking outside the patient room. “I suggest that if you don’t want to be reprimanded by the guild--” Kain stopped momentarily, grinning as he imagined in his head. “Come to my room. Tonight.”
“...Room?” You questioned. Ah right, all the officers got rooms to stay in, while the rest of you measly survivors had to sleep close together in tight quarters. "Like hell I'll do that. You're the reason they're on my ass, they think I told you to defend me!"
Kain frowns, dissatisfaction making him furrow his eyebrows.
"What was I supposed to do? Let that guy practically violate you with his words? I couldn't stand letting him do that." he clicked his radio off, annoyed by the continued static call of his name. "You, wouldn't have allowed that either. I know you, you would've unleashed far worse than I had; but, I saved you the trouble, and the ass beating."
"But--"
"I know i know, you're still being 'reprimanded'," Kain gagged as he scrunched his fingers. "However, i could easily sway the guild council's opinion as a leading officer… in return for something, of course."
Your eyes narrow.
"And how would you do that? You're the one that caused this whole mess in the first place!"
Kain’s mouth was left lingering open against your cheek as he tried to hold himself back.
"A few of the council members owe me some favors… I wouldn't mind cashing one in if it meant, a night with you."
The guard’s breath hitched, his damp cheek pressing against yours as you winced in disgust.
“Seriously? You're willingly playing into their corruption; disgusting.”
Kain dug his hand into your hair, taking a deep inhale of it, ignoring your criticisms. He tried to press you up against him, as if your body wanted to give him physical affection.
"Take it or leave it. It's a much better choice than the tunnels, hm?"
That made you shudder. You doubted they'd throw you to the tunnels and catacombs of the city for something like this, but who's to say you're not one mistake too close to being zombie bate.
You were too stuck in the dread of what he was asking for. You knew he wouldn’t be satisfied if you let him have you, even if it was just for a night; he’d always come crawling back for more, until he completely consumed you. But did you really want to deal with his bullshit if you didn’t show up?
The radio chimed again, and Kain caught himself before he lashed out again, merely letting out an annoyed grunt.
“Got it?” He asked, pressing his knuckles against your jaw.
The guard didn’t wait for an answer, instead squeezing your face with one hand and pushing a multitude of kisses on your bruised lips. You tightened your lips shut, trying to turn and grunting as he kissed and kissed and kissed, not a thought of pulling away-- until the radio snatched his attention again.
All of a sudden Kain’s hands were off of you, his bulky body had pushed past the privacy curtain, leaving it closed. You heard the door shut as he stormed out; shutting the door with a tight firmness that irked you. Letting out an exasperated sigh, you listened to his heavy military boots trudge down the hospital corridors, waiting for them to be completely silent.
That silence was quickly filled once again however, your mind snapping back into work mode as the dying man in the adjacent room’s hospital bed began another violent coughing fit.
You shut kain out of your mind-- but in the back of your head, you mentally played what you felt would happen tonight if you took up his offer. Hell, what were you going to do with him?
Murder was starting to sound real tempting.
#yall think the guy who made this sculpture in 1547 gon be mad i reposted it :(#writing#x reader#reader insert#yandere#self insert#yandere x reader#male yandere#fiction#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere scenarios#yandere drabble#tw sa#tw sa implied#tw yandere#yandere fiction#dark fiction#zombie apocalypse#zombie apocalypse yandere#apocalypse yandere#zombie#officer x nurse#yandere x nurse#gn nurse#gender neutral reader#yandere imagines#yandere oc x reader#yandere writing#yanderecore
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Can I request teacher k and spanking please? Thank you!!1
A+
warnings: teacher-student relationship, cheating, slight non-con (power difference), age gap (reader is a uni student and k is well…a teacher. At most 7 year age gap), fingering, oral {fem recieving}, harddom!k, exbhitionism; creampie, spanking.
Your first year of college was coming to a close. You had mostly all A’s, except for in one class. In Mr. Koga’s class, you had mostly slept for the entire year. Who wants to be awake at 8am on a Monday after getting blackout drunk the night before?
But you landed yourself a D in his class. Barely, since you were only three points away from failing that class. The final exam was worth half your grade anyway, so if you could just ace it then you’d be in the clear! As soon as the test was placed in front of you, your heart dropped. Shit. You had no idea how to do anything on this paper. Okay, what the hell is a hypotenuse?
You just bubbled random answers and sat there until the testing time was up. Let’s just hope your instincts were amazing. As your teacher started instructing on what courses you’d need to take next for which credits, you found it easy to get lost in his eyes. Was it wrong to want to kiss your teacher? His lips looked pretty nice today, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad dating an older guy.
You shook the thoughts from your head when the Mr.Koga stared passing back exams. He tapped a finger on your desk, your imagination running wild with the veiny orientation of his hand. "You need to see me after class." Mr. Koga whispered, sliding your exam onto your desk. You picked up the test, and low and behold, you got a 45%. Fuck, couldn't atleast get a fifty? Now you were definitely failing his class. He finished passing out tests, going on some dumb rant about how many people passed over the failed amount, which was practically everyone but you.
Maybe you were just a dumbass. Anyway, your professor dismissed the class and you walked over to his desk, swaying your hips as your tiny little skirt hugged your ass. "Y/n, I'm quite concerned with your scores on your test." He looked up, seeing your cute boobs being pushed up by your tight little shirt. "I've never had anyone do this bad on my exams. Is everything okay at home?" He leaned back in his chair, watching as you bit on the back of your black pen.
You pouted, placing a hand on his desk. "I don't know, Mr. Koga. I think I've been having a hard time focusing. This class is fucking boring." His eyebrows furrowed roughly, scoffing. "I'm sorry? Do you think my class is a joke?" You leaned over his desk, giggling in his face. "Mr. Koga, I barely even know what class this is."
"I don't appreciate your attitude, sweetie. You need to act right or I'm gonna have to punish you." You squeezed your thighs together at his harsh tone. Fuck, that's definitely a turn on. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Suspend me?" You teased, Kei sucking his teeth. "I could do that. Or I could give you another option," Kei stood up, placing himself inches away from your face.
"You could fuck me for an A. I know you've been thinking of me like that. So I could report you, or I could fuck you. Bend you over my desk and make you a good girl just for me, hm? Is that what you want?" You could've sworn you were dreaming. You hopped over his desk, bending over into his lap. "Oh, Mr. Koga. I think I need some help making a decision."
Wasting no time, he pulled you by your hair and grabbed your waist. "Let's take these dumb panties off." He grumbled, your chest pressed against the cold wood table as he lifted your skirt. "I'm starting to think you're really a slut. Wearing a lacy thong to school? You just want me inside of you." He pulled the underwear down, looking at your wet folds. "Aw, you really want me bad. Dripping all over my floor." He slapped your ass, watching you slightly jump. "Fuck! Mister Koga." You whined, arching your back into his touch. "Call me sir."
He slid two of his fingers into your hole, caressing your ass as he slowly slid them in. Randomly spanking you as he fingered your hole. "Yes, sir!" He chuckled, unbuckling his slacks. "Where'd that attitude go baby? I thought you wanted to be a brat." He teased, roughly spanking your ass. "I'll be a good girl, promise!" He gripped your thighs, kneeling down to be facing your wetness. He buried his face into your ass, taking a long, deep breath in. "Fuck, such a pretty little girl." He spat, tonguing your clit as he put his fingers deeper inside of you. You squirmed, Kei holding you in place.
"Sir, i-it feels so good! Please, need you in me." You moaned, gripping the desk as you felt the sensation of your boobs rubbing against the wood. He pulled away from your dripping wet pussy, dropping his slacks to the floor. He picked you up, placing you onto your back. He started chuckling to himself. "Damn. I forgot to lock the door. Anyone could just walk in and see you slutting out for your teacher." He palmed his cock, grabbing it from his boxers and slowly shoving it into you without warning.
"Wait, S-sir 'm a virgin!" You squeaked in pain, Kei quickly pulling out. "Really? Shit, I'm sorry, angel. Here, I think I have lube in my bag." Kei squirted some of the cold gel onto his fingers rubbing it over his dick. "Alright, I think that's enough." He mumbled, massaging your thighs. "I'm going in now, okay?" You nodded rapidly, feeling his tip push past your entrance. "Sorry for the stretch." He whispered into your ear, holding your hip as he pushed further in. "F-fuck!" You moaned, feeling like Kei was inside of your womb. "I'm all in. You want me to keep going?"
"Yes, sir. Think I'm ready." You whispered, Kei slightly pulling out and pushing back in. He picked up his pace, lifting your leg over his shoulder. "Fuck, your pussy feels so good. Tight little girl, hm?" Your boobs bounced against your chest as he moved, your eyes rolling back. "Mm, Sir! Feels so good." You moaned loudly, Kei smirking. "Yeah? Damn, you're definitely getting an A for this. Never felt a cunt like this before baby." He spoke, accenting his words with a few hard thrusts. His hand slid down to your clit, vigorously rubbing it as he drilled his cock inside of you.
Feeling your orgasm approach, your legs began to close, but Kei forced them back open. "Don't be shy, angel. I know I'm making you feel good. Just go ahead and cum for me." Your legs crossed behind his back, forcing him to stay inside of you. "You want me to cum inside of your pretty little hole? Tryna get knocked up by your teacher, aren't you?" He sped up, chasing his own orgasm. "Yes! Fuck, please cum inside of me sir." You begged, Kei groaning in pleasure. As you reached your orgasm, you clenched around him, making him cum inside of you.
"Shit. Fuck, I-I'm going to be in so much trouble of you get knocked up." Kei mumbled, his brain starting to reason with himself. You giggled, slowly sitting up onto his desk. "I think you should be more concerned about cheating on your wife, Mr. Koga." He rolled his eyes, massaging your thighs. "Well, we need a divorce anyway." You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. "If you want to get remarried, I think I know a good candidate. She might be having your baby."
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Request from the lovely @nicoline1998enilocin: "I have a short and simple request for you including our favorite super soldier: Bucky! What is he like during mirror sex? He can be the one receiving the pleasure or giving - or both, depending on your mood 😉" Shoutout to @samodivaa for the help and support as always!
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Some angsty feelings on Bucky's behalf, mention of legal proceedings, oral sex
“BUCKY!” you yelled after him. He was halfway down the staircase when you were finally within ear shot.
“Bucky,” you panted out his name this time. Cardio had never been your strong point.
He looked up at you, mirth reflected in his eyes at your need to hang over the handrail to catch your breath.
“What’s up, Sugar?”
“Get your butt back up here,” you demanded.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed into a look of concern as he marched back up the stairs to you.
“Did you even look at yourself in the mirror before you left?”
The small shrug of his shoulders told you everything you needed to know. “How did you know?” he asked. The mirth that had temporarily graced his features was replaced by his usual melancholy.
You held up the long strip of silky material in your hand. “You forgot your tie!”
“Oh.” His lips breathed out the sound as they formed a perfect little circle.
“Here, let me.” You lifted your arms to pull up the collar of his shirt and wrap the tie around his neck. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“It’s a closed hearing. They aren’t allowing anyone inside.”
“I could wait outside," you suggested, folding his collar back down and smoothing the tie with your palm.
“It’s not worth your time.”
“You’re worth it, Bucky.” You leaned into him, the back of your fingers gently caressing his cheek. He was one step below you, meaning you were face to face rather than this usual towering posture.
“Am I?”
“Buck,” you sighed. You hated how much his past plagued him. He would suffer from fits of despondency and wistfulness which would take him away from you. His body would be yours to hold but his mind was lost in a haze of his bloody past. Today was definitely one of those days. Understandably so, he was being judged for actions he felt responsible for, despite knowing that his mind had not been his own.
His court mandated therapy would leave him a shell of himself. Gone would be the charm and snark that your boyfriend innately sported and you were left with a husk of his former self. His spells of self loathing had become more frequent and it left you filled with dread that one day you’d lose your boyfriend to his guilt ridden conscience.
“You remember what we talked about?” you asked him.
“Yeah.” Bucky’s tone didn’t inspire confidence.
“Buck, just give me five minutes, I’ll-”
“No,” he cut you off with more force than you expected. “I don’t want you there.”
It hurt. He knew it hurt you but he couldn’t quite form the words to apologize. Instead he would let the sorrow fester in the depths of his soul, turning away, unwilling to look into your eyes, to see the new cracks he had made on your heart. He was afraid that one day he would shatter it into a thousand pieces and he would lose you forever, but he still didn’t have the strength to concoct an apology. He would lose you through his own actions. It was what he deserved.
“Okay.”
Your acceptance of him made him angry, he clenched his teeth, a rage building up inside of him in the same way it had when he had been him. It was still inside him, the creature they had forced out of him, had leashed and used. Why didn’t you see the monster inside?
“I’ll be here when you get home,” you said softly as he left you at the top of the staircase.
***
Bucky crept back into the apartment. A pardon. They had given him a full pardon. He had complied with their demands, jumped through their hoops and saved the world to boot. His actions told the tales of redemption but his soul still burned in flames of an eternal torment.
He heard you humming in the kitchen, probably preparing something delicious for him. You were the only light in his life, he couldn't think of anything he had done in his overextended lifetime to deserve the compassion you showed him.
Shame engulfed him, he couldn't face you after the words he had spoken that morning. He couldn’t look into your beautiful eyes without an apology that was worthy of you. Maybe the scalding temperature of a hot shower would help wash away the fog that clouded his brain and steeped him further into his anguish.
You may not have caught the sound of his footsteps, but there was no mistaking the creaking of the ancient pipes in the building.
“Bucky?” you muttered under your breath. Not loud enough for anyone to hear, except a super soldier who was not currently in the act of drowning his sorrows under a showerhead. You turned off the stove and padded into his bedroom. After retrieving the suit that he had so carelessly dropped on the floor, you sat down on the bed to wait for your boyfriend to come out of the bathroom.
He didn’t emerge for almost an hour, but you were patient. Forgiving. Almost too forgiving.
Bucky froze in the doorway with only a towel hanging around his waist, seeing you sitting on the bed watching him, concern etched across your face. He watched your lips open and close slightly, fighting the urge to get up and rush to wrap your arms around him. He craved your touch, but he stayed, frozen, out of reach. He could see your fear, not for your safety, but of his response. But it was your sadness which finally ignited some movement from him.
He sat down beside you, drops of water dripping off his hair down onto his shoulders. The scent of his geranium and orange shower gel wafted into your nostrils, giving you the comfort of his presence, his proximity, as well as the courage to ask your question.
“What happened, Bucky?”
“Pardoned.” His reply was flat.
You gasped, flooded by a sense of relief. It was a reflex, you grabbed his flesh hand between yours and looked at his face, searching for his reaction. “That’s great! Right, Buck?”
He turned his head, not quite able to look at your face. Instead he stared ahead, only to catch your eyes in the reflection of the full length mirror which hung on the wall in front of you. You deserved an answer, so he nodded stiffly.
“Bucky.” The way you breathed his name betrayed everything you were feeling. Heartache, apprehension, anxiety and most importantly, affection.
He squeezed your fingers, trying to convey everything he hadn't said with this one action.
"We need to talk, Bucky."
And here it was. You had reached your limit.
"I'm worried about you."
The breath that had caught in his throat escaped in a short hiss.
"You can't carry on like this."
You weren't looking at his reflection anymore, you were looking directly at him, eyes filled with expectation.
"I-" Bucky grappled to find the right words. "I don't deserve this."
"Because of what you see, right? You look into that mirror," you pointed at his reflection, "and you still see yourself as the Winter Soldier. But Bucky, that's not who I see."
"No?"
"No," you shook your head. "I see a man who's the survivor of the most heinous acts that another human can inflict on them."
Your fingers hovered over the scars on his left shoulder, gently caressing his skin. "Someone who resisted their torture for twenty years."
"You have so much strength and resilience, you fought against it and you're still doing it. You don't give up. And that makes me so proud." Gently you rested your chin on his right shoulder and pressed your temple against his stubbled cheek.
You folded one knee under you and moved closer to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his waist. "I know I can't take away the sadness in your heart… as much as I wish I could. And I know you carry that weight with you every day. But if you'll let me, I'd like to help you with it. Especially on those days when it gets to be too much."
Bucky's jaw worked hard to mumble his next words. "I don't want to be a burden."
"You're the most important person in my life. I choose you."
You kissed his cheek, a sweet peck. The first of many. The next was firmer, your lips on his skin longer. Another to the angle of his jaw. It left a buzzing sensation where you'd made contact. But you didn't stop there, you left a trail of blazing kisses down his neck and along his shoulder, not once taking your eyes off Bucky's reflection. You wanted to make sure he was watching you.
"I want you to see how special you are."
You snaked your hands up from his waist so that they landed on his chest, over his heart.
"I want you to know that I see the good man that's in here. I see you, Bucky."
Your eyes didn't leave his in the mirror. Together you both watched your movements as you showed Bucky what he meant to you.
A few more chaste kisses landed across his broad shoulders before you decided to change the focus of your attention. His vibranium arm. The advanced prosthetic was usually a source of pride and achievement and told the story of how far he had come from the nightmare he lived for decades. But in moments of madness, the maelstrom inside him would sweep him into the past and Bucky would view his gift as a curse.
You pushed on his elbow from behind, guiding his arm up in a cradled position across his chest. With your other hand you interlocked your fingers with his, your thumb caressing the smooth hard metal. Your free fingertips now traced the golden veins which stood out against the midnight colors, every second watching.
Closer, you pulled him closer. You drew his cool fingers into your mouth. One digit at a time, your tongue swirled around each one, licking, sucking, admiring their taste. He hadn't taken his eyes off you. Your other hand stroked this muscular back, working its way around the edges of the towel wrapped around his waist.
"Sugar…"
"Yeah, Buck?" you asked, taking his fingers out of your mouth.
"I'm sorry for how I spoke to you this morning." He was looking directly at you rather than the mirror as he apologized, you could see the sincerity in the glimmer of his cerulean blue orbs.
"Thank you."
"I shouldn't have."
"No, but I think I understand what you were feeling."
"Forgive me?"
"I forgive you, Bucky."
This time he initiated the kiss. Lips covering yours. Tongues dancing together. Longing and love exchanged in the act of passion. Bucky wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his lap.
"I want you to see what I see," you whispered as you finally came up for air.
You turned to look over your shoulder at your reflections before facing Bucky with a smile. There was enough action under his towel for you to work with. You climbed off his lap and started to kneel down in front of him. But Bucky grabbed your arms just as your first knee touched the floor.
"Sugar-"
"Let me show you, show you how much I love you." You slipped your fingers into the small space where the towel was tucked in on itself.
"Just hang on-"
"Buck, it's okay, really!"
You tried to stop him leaning backwards, but he was intent on his action. Bucky grabbed a pillow and handed it to you. "The floor's pretty hard. I know, I sleep on it."
You accepted his offering gratefully, dropping it to the floor, you felt immediate relief as the hard wooden floorboards were no longer pressing your knees. It allowed you to focus your attention back on exposing him.
The towel fell open with little effort and you worked on tracing a trail along his thighs with the tips of your fingers. It made you smile to see the line of goosebumps which erupted on his skin. Gently you wrapped your palms around his shaft.
You started with a simple kiss, pressed against his tip. And you felt him respond. Your lips slipped over him again, taking him a little further into your mouth. A smile crept across your features as you heard him suppress his moan.
Bucky reached down to touch your face, there was a tenderness in his expression which made you feel a new kind of warmth inside you. It made you want to give your boyfriend everything you had to offer.
Slowly, you stroked the underside of his shaft, just under the head where you knew how sensitive he was. He rose magnificently under your touch. His hands surrounded your head and he threaded his fingers through your hair with a hum of pleasure.
"You watch in there," you jerked your thumb behind you.
The long tortuous vein that ran along one side of his magnificent member received an extraordinary amount of attention as you traced its journey from the base to the tip. The tip which was now flushed, pulsing with excitement.
You offered him a coy smile before dropping your head. Lips enveloped him, engulfing him with the warmth of your mouth. Once, twice. The third time you dragged your now puffed up lips, giving a lap of your tongue against his meatus for added effect. Tucking away your teeth, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked hard, hard enough to turn his hum into a strangled gasp followed by the most erotic groan you'd heard from him.
Bucky's fingertips massaged your scalp, tugging at the strands lightly to help set your pace. You reveled in the tiny whimpers that left his lips as you worked on him.
His cock throbbed lightly, you could feel it in your mouth. He was rapidly reaching his climax and you wanted to help him along as best you could. You edged one hand down to his balls, taking both into your palm and rolling them between your eager fingers.
Eventually Bucky did the one thing you'd asked of him. He looked up. He wasn't sure if his vision was blurred because of his dilated pupil, or if it was the flush across his cheeks, but he barely recognized the man he had seen in the mirror for the last few years. He felt strong and confident and loved.
Instinctively his hips thrust towards you and his cock slid further down your throat. He groaned, louder than before. His fingers clambered desperately at the duvet cover, trying to find an anchor for the oncoming storm.
You bobbed your head, deeper each time, inch by inch. His tip grazed the side of your mouth, the inside of your cheek, nearing the back of your throat. Lips sucking, tongue twirling, fist pumping. Over and over. Faster and faster. His breaths came hard and fast. Until that moment arrived.
His eyes closed and muscles tensed. Hot, white cum exploded out of him with a strangled cry. Bucky’s body undulated as you pulled back while swallowing his load. As his pleasure subsided, you took him back into your mouth, lapping off the sweet elixir you'd milked from him.
Once you'd had your fill, you climbed back up onto the bed to sit at his side. He turned his head to face you and smiled. You pressed your forehead against his, your noses brushed against each other.
"Did you see?" you asked him.
He nodded slowly. "Yes."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#reposting because it didn't show in the tags last time
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Kinktober (+18) | Day 20
Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader
Prompts: Breeding Kink | Choking | Mommy Kink
Content Warnings: (Slight) Exhibitionism, AFAB Dialogue Used for Reader, Choking, Pet Names Used (Princess), Mommy Kink, Breeding Kink
Word Count: 1,606
Summary:
Nails dug into your skin, as your grip around his throat tightened. His pace was bruising, and you almost didn't hear the word that left his mouth.
“This was a waste of time.” Dabi complained as he interrupted Skeptic’s briefing, lifting himself from his chair. “I’m leaving.”
Dabi’s hand grabbed your arm, yanking you out of your chair forcing you to follow him. You yelped as he dragged you out of the meeting room, not even bothering to close the door behind him. He rolled his eyes at the complaints and shouts thrown his way from the people taking that shit far too seriously.
“I can walk on my own, you know.” You joked, smacking his arm. “And maybe I wanted to actually listen to Skeptic's boring ass speech.”
His eyes glanced towards you briefly as he continued to drag you along, heading upstairs now. “Don’t really care.” He replied, sounding bored. “I was zoning out the entire fucking time, and unfortunately for you, that means it’s now your problem.”
“What…” You trailed off, feeling his hand heating up on your arm. Oh. “You could’ve just waited. Dragged out the fantasies a little longer, hm? Build some suspense.”
“Why do that…” He said, turning to shove you up against the wall outside of his room. He leaned down close to your face, heat emanating off of his body. “When I can just use your pussy to get my rocks off.”
Heat crept across your face, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. “What makes you think I want to help you get off to your fantasies?” You teased, your confidence wavering only slightly before you reigned yourself back in. “I doubt they’re even about me.”
Dabi smirked, leaned his arm on the wall next to your head. “Oh trust me, they were.” He smoothly replied, his response and husky voice causing your cunt to twitch.
His other hand snaked his way into your pants, skillfully sliding into your underwear. Warm fingers glided over your wet slit, lightly teasing your entrance. Your eyes darted around the hallway, heat flooding your cheeks as you checked to make sure no one was around. Before you could protest his action, his lips were pressed roughly against yours. He pushed his index and middle finger into your cunt, pumping quickly as you melted into his kiss.
Dabi’s teeth caught your bottom lip between his teeth, a whine escaping you as he curled his fingers inside of you. “We sh–should get inside your room…” You muttered, your fingers clinging to his jacket.
He grinned at you, a mischievous sparkle in his bright eyes. “Scared, princess?” He teased, curling his fingers to massage that sensitive spot inside of you.
“Dabi…” You whined, instinctively bucking your hips into his hand as he ignored you. “Stop…”
Your cunt clenched around nothing when you roughly pulled his fingers out of it, as you stifled back a groan. You swallowed roughly before reaching down to yank his hand out of your pants. You ducked out from your position to pull him towards his door by his arm. You opened his door, shoving him inside as you kicked it closed behind you.
“I’m down if you want to fuck but I’m not doing anything out in the hallway.” You said, glaring at him down. “Since you wanted to be an asshole about this, I’m in charge.”
You saw something shift in Dabi’s eyes, he definitely lost his mischief but there was something else you couldn’t place. You crossed your arms over your chest as you engaged in a stare down. You snapped your fingers before pointing them towards his bed. “Strip. Now.” You commanded.
He smirked and raised his eyebrow, tilting his head slightly in amusement. “Excuse me?” He asked, thinking it was a little adorable that you wanted to take charge.
You walked up to him, arms still crossed as you looked him up and down. His cock was rock hard, constricted by his leather pants. You could tell that he wasn’t taking you seriously, but you also knew that he’d cave if he was horny enough. Maybe you just needed to switch up your tactic a little.
“Come on, Dabi.” You whispered smoothly, your hands finding his hips before your fingers started running against his crotch. “Just get on the bed and let me take care of you.”
You could feel his cock twitch under your fingers, a boost to your pride knowing that it was working. “If you wanted to ride me, all you had to do was ask.” He teased, shrugging off his jacket. “You better work fast though, your majesty…I’m eager to fill you up.”
You playfully shoved him towards the bed, as you stripped yourself, watching as he plopped down onto the bed refusing to strip anymore. You rolled your eyes, crawling onto the bed moving to straddle his waist. “I told you to strip, didn't I?” You asked, leaning down close to his face.
“You seem to like the control, I figured you’d want to do it yourself.” He said, resting his hands on your legs.
You scoffed and hovered yourself over him as you undid his pants, scooting yourself down as you peeling them off. You tossed him aside as you yanked down his boxers, his hard cock springing free. Pre-cum drippled out his swollen tip, twitching slightly as you stroked it.
“Why can’t you just be a good boy and behave for once?” You asked, your eyes glancing at his cock when it twitches in your hand. “Oh?”
Dabi lays his head back, his eyes currently invested in looking at the ceiling, as his hands grip onto your legs. “Are you going to let me fuck you or not?” He asked, clearly getting irritated.
You grinned down at him as you hovered yourself over his cock, gently sliding his tip across your slit soaking it. You slowly sunk yourself down onto his cock, moaning as you reached the base. Your hands found themselves running along his chest, softly tugging at his nipples. He bucked his hips up, a silent signal asking for you to move which just caused you to laugh. You slowly bounced yourself onto his cock, grinding your hips as you went.
“You really are pent up aren’t you?” You teased, biting your bottom lip as his hips start meeting yours. “That’s it, that’s a good boy.”
You heard him mumble something under his breath but you couldn’t quite hear it. His fingers guided your hands to wrap around his neck, before his hands found their way back to your hips. He held you in place as he started roughly slamming his hips into your, spearing his cock into your soaking wet cunt. Your fingers squeezed his neck as you whimpered out various curses. His nails were digging into your skin, warmth spreading from his fingertips.
“Mommy…fuck…” He groaned, barely audible, causing your eyes to widen. “Feels so good…”
“H–Huh?” You asked, quickly realizing that he wasn’t listening. You reached one of your hands up to slap him across the face before roughly grabbing his cheeks, causing a stutter in his movements. “What..did you call me?”
A small blush crawled across his face as he swallowed. He slowed down his movements, refusing to stop completely. He knew he couldn’t deny it but didn’t stop the embarrassment. “Just fucking ignore it.” He said, his hands starting to heat up more intensely against your hips.
“Mommy, huh?” You teased, leaning down to lick a streak across his cheek. “I like it.”
He paused a moment before smirking up at you, gaining back that confidence from earlier, slowly pulling out before slamming back into your cunt. “Of course you do.” He joked, picking back up that rough pace. “‘Cause you’re fucked up.”
You squeezed around his throat again, bracing yourself with your other hand. “Can’t help it when you make mommy feel this good.” You moaned, the noises your cunt was making as he slammed into you just making you more soaked. “You fuck mommy so well, don’t you baby?”
Dabi was actually making noise, little groans escaping his throat and even a little whimper when you started fully addressing yourself. He pulled you down to his chest, his hips moving at an animalistic rhythm and speed. The angle he was hitting was so deep in your cunt that you were building faster to your climax than before. Your fingers found his hair as you tugged, your hot breath against his ear filling it with moans.
“Just like that, just like that…” You whimpered out, so close to your end as your toes curled. “I’m gonna come, just keep fucki–”
Heat built up and the coil snapped, your cunt clamping down around his cock. You screamed as your legs started to quiver, but thankfully you were already laying on top of him. His fingers gripped your hips as he continued slamming his cock into you, his breathing long since becoming ragged. You whined into the bed, your body still tingling as you struggled to come down from your high.
“Fuuuck…your pussy’s gonna milk me…” He groaned, the heat coming off making you sweat.
You intentionally caused your cunt to clench around his cock, moaning into his ear. “Fill up mommy’s pussy.” You commanded, licking up his ear. “I want all of your cum dripping out of me.”
He bit his bottom lip, throwing his head back as his movements started to stutter. He groaned out, low and drawn out as hot spurts of cum shot up into your cunt. You shivered as the warmth filled you up, fully collapsing on top of him once his hips stopped. “Good boy…” You softly praised, your fingers lazily running through his hair. “Such a good boy for mommy.”
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
part 06 of 06 | masterpost
word count: 9,8k | ao3 link | fic's playlist
✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, pregnancy, breastfeeding, mxf sex, threesome mentioned/implied, poly relationship mentioned/discussed, oral sex, pregnancy sex, small pov change at the end, an actual happy ending ♡
✧ Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine / Cashmere, cologne, and white sunshine / Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine / The kids were young and pretty
Where have you been? / Where did you go? / Those summer nights seem long ago / So is the girl you used to call / The queen of New York City ✧
August 17th, 1992
I blinked open my eyes, letting out a sleepy yawn as sunlight crept through the curtains, brightening up the room. A small grin tugged at my lips when I realized Dave was still fast asleep beside me, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around me, his bare skin pressed against mine. With a groan, I stretched out, feeling how sore my muscles were.
Honestly, even though I’d caught some shut-eye, I was totally wiped out from last night. James and Dave hadn’t given me a break for a second, making it their mission to push me to one mind-blowing climax after another in a wild competition for my attention and pleasure that had lasted all night long. But I wasn’t complaining; in fact, it probably had been one of the best nights I've ever had up to that point.
I glanced over to the other side of the bed, sighing when I saw James wasn't there; reaching out, I noticed the mattress was still warm, so he probably had left not too long before. I carefully slipped out of Dave's arms, got up, and headed to the bathroom. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I absentmindedly ran my fingers through my hair as I checked out my skin in the mirror. It was covered in bites and little bruises that were starting to show. I sighed; I'd definitely need to slap on some makeup to cover those up before we hopped on our flight back home.
I threw on one of Dave's t-shirts, my shorts, and my shoes before snagging my pack of cigarettes and lighter. I slipped out of the room quietly and made my way up to the hotel's terrace. The place was nice, offering a panoramic view of the city with a few tables and chairs scattered around. Surprisingly, even though it wasn’t that early, it was still empty, which was a relief. Leaning against the railing, I lit up a cigarette, taking slow drags with a sigh.
"Figured I'd find you here," a familiar voice chimed in. I glanced up, meeting James' eyes as he strolled over. Turning to him, I rested a hand on his chest as he wrapped his arm around my waist. Letting out a sigh, I melted into his kiss, his tongue gently exploring my mouth while his hand cradled my face.
"You bailed on me," I murmured against his lips, and he grunted, kissing me once more. I chuckled softly. "Jamie..."
"I couldn't sleep," he confessed, pulling back slightly, his thumb stroking my lower lip gently.
"Come back to the room with me," I whispered, and he raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "We don't have to split just yet. We've got until tonight. I'm sure Dave won't mind picking up where we left off yesterday."
"Now that he's sober? Doubt it," he murmured, then brushed his fingers gently across my face. I closed my eyes with a sigh, resting my hand over his. "Babe... You realize this thing between the three of us won't last beyond these walls, right?"
I blinked open my eyes, my reaction to his words written all over my face — a messy mix of feeling betrayed and totally lost. I shook my head no, and he responded with a smile, though it was a sad and resigned one that tugged at my heartstrings. He sighed as I reached out, cupping his cheek, drawing nearer.
"We can give it a shot," I murmured, my voice pleading. He clasped my hand in his, pressing a light kiss to my palm before letting go.
"And how exactly would that work?" he inquired, his tone gentle. "We're both public figures, Nore. You're making waves in your career now. What happens if the industry catches wind of you being with two guys at once? If just by you dating Dave, your face ends up plastered across magazine covers?"
"I don't give a shit about that," I shot back, and he scoffed.
"Well, I do. Not sure if you remember, but I made a promise. Promised Cliff I'd look out for you," he said, gently lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "Even if that means letting Mustaine win this round."
"So you’re walking away from me?" I questioned, my voice cracking, a scary emptiness gripping my heart. As messy as things were between James and me, he'd never thrown in the towel before. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, especially coming right after the high of last night — after finally admitting to myself that I didn't want to choose, that I loved both Dave and James, that I wanted them both, not one or the other.
He nuzzled into my neck, his hand sliding down to my hip beneath the t-shirt. Such a simple move, yet so familiar. A familiar vulnerability that reminded me of the boy he used to be.
If Cliff were still around, would things have gotten so strained between us? Would James' anger and my own self-destructive tendencies have wormed their way into our relationship like poison, tearing us apart until we barely resembled the young lovers we once were? I'd pondered that question countless times. Guess I’d never know the answer.
"I couldn't leave you. You know that," he murmured. "But I can't handle this, Nore. I can't share you. Especially when I know it could mess things up for you. Especially when I know it could fuck up your thing with Mustaine. I know you couldn't handle losing him again. You think I don't see how much you love him? How much he loves you?"
"But I love you too," I pleaded. "And you love me."
"I do. And that's why I'm doing this," he said, holding my face in his hands and brushing away the tears I hadn't even realized were streaming down my cheeks. "You're gonna be happy, Nore. As time goes by and the hurt fades, you'll find happiness with him. I know you will, 'cause you already did."
"I don't want to lose you."
"You're not losing me. I'll still be around," he whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'll always be by your side. Always. I just can't stand to see you hurting anymore because of me. You've been through too much."
"It's not fair," I sobbed. "I want you to be happy too."
"I will. But I gotta get my act together first, so I can stop screwing things up for the people I care about," he said with a sad smile. I gripped onto his arm with one hand, wiping my tears away with the other. I didn't want this. It wasn't fair. But James' eyes held a determination I'd never seen before, and I knew I couldn't talk him out of it. James reached up to touch my face, running his thumb along my lower lip. "I gotta do this. You get it, right?" he asked, his voice shaky. I hesitated, but nodded before trying to force a smile — one last smile for the man I loved.
"Want to give me one last kiss?" I asked, and he laughed quietly. "You know, for good luck."
He leaned in, pulling me close, his lips brushing against mine slowly, savoring every moment. I tangled my fingers in his hair, closing my eyes and pressing myself against him, trying in every way to convey everything I felt; how much I loved him, how long I'd loved him, and how a part of my heart would always belong to him. How I wouldn't be who I was without him. He ended the kiss with two gentle pecks, then planted two small kisses on my cheek and forehead before hugging me tightly.
When I opened my eyes, he was gone.
When I got back to the room, Dave was there, fresh out of the shower, his hair still wet and a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Hey, babe," he greeted me with a smile, but it faded when he saw the look on my face. "What's up? Something happened?"
I nodded, heading over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. Dave hugged me back right away, holding me close as he ran his fingers through my hair.
"Hey," he murmured, lifting my chin so I'd meet his gaze. "What's going on? Did I fuck anything up?"
"No, no," I reassured him, pulling him into another hug and nuzzling into his neck. He let out a soft, worried sigh, holding me close.
"Tell me what's going on, honey. I'm freaking out here," he urged, his voice filled with concern.
"I'm being selfish," I murmured, my voice shaking. "I'm being selfish because after yesterday... I thought... I thought that you, me, and James could figure it out. I've been torn up for so long about having to pick one of you, and… And yesterday it hit me, I don't really want to choose. But James... He's not on board. He said it wouldn't be good for my career if people found out. That I'd be better off without him." I pulled back, meeting his eyes, pleading. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you with this, Dave..."
"You're not hurting me," he said, cupping my face in his hands. "Do you really think I don't know you love him, Nore? After all these years together? I was the one who walked away, and he's the one who’s been there for you this whole time. As much as I hate it, I get it. I'm not mad at you. It's okay."
He helped me sit on the bed, pulling me close against his chest. I let out a sigh, giving him a light kiss, and he let out a low, contented sound as he held me tight. He smelled nice, all warm and woodsy; just being near him helped me relax.
"I love you," he whispered, leaning in to kiss me gently on the lips, his fingers brushing against my tear-stained cheeks. "But you know it's different for people like us," he said softly, studying my face as he traced it with his fingertips. "Behind the scenes at a gig, a private party... We can get carried away in those moments, do things we wouldn't do anywhere else. But then we go back to the real world. We put on our masks. We're their idols, babe. And those private moments become vulnerabilities that these media vultures would kill to get their hands on, to twist who we are into whatever they want. A wild drunk. A messed-up junkie. I get why James wants to shield you from that, I'd do the same. But if you wanna go back to him..." he furrowed his brow, his brown eyes filled with a restless sadness that tugged at my heart. "There's still time. And I won't hold it against you."
"No way. I'm not ditching you. Don't even go there, Dave," I said, my tone firm and cutting. James had a point about one thing: I couldn't handle losing Dave again, and I wasn't about to take that chance. I looked at him, pleading. "You know I love you. Don't even think about telling me to bail."
Sure, part of me was hurting and torn up, but I wasn't about to do anything that might push him away.
If it came down to choosing, my decision had been made long, long ago.
"Then stay with me," Dave said softly. "Stay with me, and I swear, even if you're still hung up on him, I'll love you just as much."
"I love you. I'm not going anywhere," I replied, locking eyes with him and holding his face in my hands. His breath hitched, relief and longing shining in his eyes as he pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his lips edging closer to mine. "Don’t ever dare to push me away again. You're stuck with me, Mustaine," I whispered, our mouths almost touching, and he grinned.
"You know you're the only one I love... Losing you is the last thing I'd ever want," he said, his hand tangling in my hair and pulling me closer as his lips met mine.
✧ But if you send for me, you know I'll come / And if you call for me, you know I'll run / I'll run to you, I'll run to you / I'll run, run, run / I'll come to you, I'll come to you / I'll come, come, come ✧
October 9, 1992
Ever since I was a kid, the ocean had been a great presence in my life. Growing up in Long Beach and then moving around to San Francisco and Los Angeles meant I was always near the beach. Whether I was feeling great or down, the sea was like a silent companion, there for me through thick and thin. So when Dave suggested we hit up a beachside cottage in San Francisco for the weekend, I was totally stoked.
The past couple of months hadn't exactly been easy. After Leanne's wedding, James and I went back to being cool with each other, but his choice to step back still stung. Trying to keep up a friendship after being together for years was bittersweet, and way tougher than I thought it'd be. But having Dave around made it all a bit smoother. Even when I still felt down sometimes, I knew I'd rather deal with that sadness over and over than go through the heartbreak of losing him again.
Things were looking up for our careers. On my end, I was hashing out the details for a role in my first movie, which was gonna be a whole new ball game compared to everything I'd done before. The series I was headlining was wrapping up filming, and it seemed like smooth sailing all around.
Dave had been riding high with all the concerts he'd been doing since Megadeth had dropped their latest album, Countdown to Extinction. The album had been a hit, which was awesome news for both of us. The following year, the band would hit the road for an international tour, and although we knew it was gonna be tough being apart for that long, we figured we'd make the most of the rest of '92 by squeezing in as much time together as we could, starting with our little weekend getaway.
At Dave's urging, I’d let him take the reins on planning everything. I grinned as he pulled up to the small beach cottage, instantly recognizing it. Even after all these years, some things in San Francisco still remained the same.
"That's the cottage you took me to that time, right before you went on that trip to New Jersey with the guys," I said, grinning at Dave as he pulled the car to a stop. He flashed me a smile in return.
"Yep, that's the spot. Good memory," he leaned in for a quick peck on the lips. "Wanted to whisk you away to a place that's got some history for us both."
And he’d totally hit the mark; the little cottage was quaint yet comfy, a throwback to the best days of my life, a time when we were just two young lovers, exploring what it meant to be together. Back when I was learning what it meant to have a family beyond blood, with all my friends by my side, back when Cliff was still around, all witty remarks and calm smiles. Back before Dave and the guys had their falling out and things had changed forever, for all of us.
Dave tossed me the key, asking me to pop open the doors and windows for some fresh air while he hauled our bags inside. I happily obliged, instantly recognizing the layout of the small house: cozy living room leading to the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. The bedroom had an old double bed and a wardrobe, plus a TV that definitely wasn't there last time. And then there was the balcony, right out to the beach, where I could see the sea glimmering in the morning light.
I grinned as Dave strolled in, dumping our bags on the bed before coming over to wrap me in a hug and plant a soft kiss on my lips.
"You like it?" he asked softly. I nodded. "Yeah, it's a bit smaller than I remembered, but I hope it’s still cozy enough."
"It's perfect, Dave," I said, cupping his face in my hands and giving him another kiss. He grinned, looking like he was about to say something, but then hesitated, which caught my attention. "What's up?"
"I was just curious... if you had any cool stuff planned for this weekend," he said, trying to keep a straight face, but I could tell he was about to crack a smile. I grinned back, a bit puzzled.
"I didn't plan anything fancy, babe. You were supposed to take care of all that, remember? But we can chill at the beach and then figure out something fun to do together, sound good?"
"Well, actually..." he started, his grin spreading. "I had something else in mind."
"Oh, really? You know I'm down for whatever," I answered, and he smiled playfully before taking my hands in his, leaning his forehead against mine.
"Even marrying me tomorrow?" he asked, his tone low.
I blinked, totally caught off guard, wondering if I'd heard him right. I leaned back a bit, a shocked grin breaking across my face as my heart started racing. Was he serious? Dave grinned back at my reaction, giving my hands a gentle squeeze, his soft touch grounding me back to reality.
"What do you mean, tomorrow?" I asked, dumbfounded, and he laughed.
"I mean tomorrow," he replied, genuine happiness and excitement in his voice. "Nore, I... I've spent too much of my life away from you already. And it sucked," he chuckled, and I couldn’t help but laugh too, feeling my heart completely out of sync as butterflies fluttered in my stomach. "Next year, when I go on tour... I want to know I’m coming back home to you. Every single day of my life, I want to be sure I'll come back to you."
I gasped in surprise as he knelt down on one knee, still holding my hands before letting them go and pulling out a small box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring, gold with a large dark blue stone and small diamonds around it.
"This might just go down as the quickest engagement in history," he whispered with a smile. "But seriously, I've never been more certain about anything in my life than wanting to spend it with you. Eleanore Marie Burton... Will you mar-"
"Yes," I blurted out, barely letting him finish, a grin spreading across my face as I brought my fingertips to my lips, giggling like a little girl with tears brimming in my eyes. Dave beamed, his own eyes misting up as he got to his feet. "Yes, I’ll marry you," I confirmed, and he took my hand in his, slowly slipping the ring onto my finger before pulling me in close by the waist, drawing me into a slow, passionate kiss.
"Thank goodness you said yes," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips. "I mean, I've already forked out for the whole thing. Would've been a bit awkward if you'd turned me down."
I couldn't help but laugh, joyous tears streaking down my cheeks as I cupped his face in my hands, his arms enveloping me tightly, our lips finding each other's again, and again, and again.
✧ The power of youth is on my mind / Sunsets, small town, I'm out of time / Will you still love me when I shine / From words but not from beauty?
My father's love was always strong / My mother's glamor lives on and on / Yet still inside, I felt alone / For reasons unknown to me ✧
October 10, 1992
We got married the next day, on a sunny autumn afternoon. The morning was a whirlwind of activity as we scrambled to get everything just right: first, a crew showed up bright and early to set up the beachside ceremony, arranging tables and chairs, decking out the altar with decorations, and pitching tents for the guests to hang out in during the reception. Then came the chefs Dave had enlisted to whip up the feast; our little cottage just couldn't contain the festivities, so it was all hands on deck to get everything outdoors-ready.
Soon after, the guests began trickling in. My family was the first to arrive: Uncle Ray, Aunt Jan, and my parents. Then, to my utter delight, Leanne and Joe made an appearance. I hadn't expected Leanne to come, with her pregnancy moving along, but clearly, I’d underestimated her determination. When I mentioned my surprise, she just chuckled.
"Are you kidding? Wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, you're gonna need a maid of honor, right?" she teased, and I couldn't help but beam with genuine happiness.
Leanne and my mom pitched in to get me ready; Mom tackled my hair while Leanne took charge of my makeup. The master bedroom turned into a makeshift beauty parlor, and before I knew it, the clock was ticking away as I was treated like royalty: my hair was coiffed and styled before a quick snack break, then Leanne got to work on my makeup before I slipped into the dress Dave had taken me to pick out the day prior.
All of this happened amidst all the hustle and bustle of getting the party ready and Dave getting himself sorted in the tiny bathroom. The cottage turned into a bit of a madhouse, mostly because Leanne and Mom were on strict guard duty, keeping everyone out of the bedroom until I was good to go. But, despite the chaos, the vibe was just pure joy, and nobody seemed to be sweating the small stuff.
Finally, when I was all dolled up, Leanne swooped in and covered my eyes with her hands, while Mom propped up a full-length mirror against the wall. Turns out, she'd had the foresight to pick one up just for the occasion. When I asked her about it, she just gave me an exasperated look.
"Imagine not being able to see yourself in the mirror on your big day. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and I wasn't taking any chances on there not being one around. So, I came prepared," she explained.
Well, this time Mom had definitely hit the mark. The cottage was pretty basic, and a full-length mirror wasn't exactly on the inventory list. When I finally laid eyes on myself, I couldn't help but gasp in amazement. My hair was swept up into a loose bun, with bits of it cascading around my face, adorned with these adorable little yellow flowers nestled into the brown locks.
Leanne's makeup skills were on point, giving my eyes, lips, and cheeks just the right pop. And the dress was like it was made for me, light as a feather, sleeveless and elegant, hugging my curves in all the right places, even making me feel a bit taller. Grinning ear to ear, I took the bouquet from Leanne — a gorgeous mix of white roses and sunflowers, just like the ones Dave had handed me that first time we caught up after reuniting.
I was stunning. But it wasn't just about the looks: this overwhelming sense of pure joy seemed to radiate from every inch of me, lighting up my eyes and my smile. And for the first time in forever, there wasn't a shred of worry weighing me down.
"You know, when your fiancé called, I'll admit, I thought you two might've been rushing into things. But now... seeing you like this... You really love him, don’t you?" Mom asked, giving one last gentle tug on the dress zipper. All I could manage was a silent nod.
In that moment, one thing was crystal clear, and it was my love for Dave.
"Okay, it's showtime," my dad barged in out of nowhere, freezing in his tracks as he caught sight of me. His eyes welled up with a mix of shock and pride, his jaw practically hitting the floor. I couldn't help but grin, the excitement sending shivers down my spine, my heart pounding, and tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "Ellie, you... You look stunning," he said, grasping my arms and beaming at me before turning to my mom. "Clémence, sweetheart, you and Leanne better get a move on... The ceremony's about to kick off."
"Okay," Mom gave my hair one final tweak before she and Leanne settled my veil in place. Lea squeezed my hand tight.
"We'll be right there, Nore. See you in a bit," she said reassuringly.
I nodded, but inside, my stomach was doing somersaults. All morning, I'd been riding the excitement train, but now, with the ceremony about to kick off, a tidal wave of nerves hit me like a ton of bricks. Dad noticed, gripping my arm a little tighter, offering silent support as he sensed my jitters.
"You got this, Ellie. Dave's just waiting on you," Dad whispered, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
I nodded, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins, a nervous smile breaking out on my face. And with that, the music started up, and Dad guided me down the aisle to where Dave was waiting at the altar.
As I emerged into the back of the cottage, I couldn't help but be taken aback by the sea of familiar faces gathered for the ceremony. Charlotte and her boyfriend were holding court, joined by a bunch of my college and work buddies, along with Dave's band mates. Lars, Kirk, and Jason flashed me a grin. But my heart dropped a bit when I realized James wasn't among them. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd opted out, if my wedding would just add another layer to the hurt between us.
But all of that was shoved to the backburner the second I locked eyes with Dave. He had this intense, serious expression on his face, which might've been a bit intimidating if I didn't know it just showed how emotional he was. His gaze was glued to mine as I made my way over, and when Dad handed me off to him, Dave let out this deep breath, a huge grin spreading across his face that I couldn't help but mirror.
Our vows were straight from the heart, short and sweet, but bursting with love. I gotta admit, I tried my hardest to keep the waterworks at bay, but a few rogue tears still managed to slip out. And when the officiant asked if I took Dave as my husband, I found my voice all choked up. But I managed to squeak out my acceptance, which just melted Dave's eyes into a puddle of warmth and affection.
When he slid that ring onto my finger, it was like everything clicked into place. Like I'd finally found my spot in the universe. Through all the rough patches, all the time we’d spent apart, I guess deep down, I always knew we'd find our way back to each other. I always knew that I loved him, had loved him all along, right from the start, and that love wasn't going anywhere till my very last breath.
I let out a soft chuckle as Dave leaned in for a kiss, pulling me close, his hand gentle on my cheek, brushing away the tears of joy that had welled up. I sighed contentedly, wrapping my arms around his neck, never wanting to let go.
It was done. And in that moment, it hit me — I'd never have to go through losing him again. Our love had seen us through, brought us back together, helped us learn to forgive, and most importantly, to fall for each other all over again.
I was his, and he was mine.
The party after the ceremony was nothing fancy, but it was a blast. Our wedding wasn't a huge affair, just our nearest and dearest, but honestly, it couldn't have been any better in my book. I was practically beaming with joy as everyone came up to chat with me.
"Nore!" Lars burst out, champagne in hand, with Kirk right by his side, sporting a grin. I couldn't help but smile back, chuckling when they both practically tackled me with hugs. "Congrats, Mrs. Mustaine," Lars said with a twinkle in his eye, and I let out a laugh.
"Mustaine-Burton," I smiled. "I'm going with a double-barrelled name... Didn't want to ditch the Burton part, you know? It's got history with Cliff," I explained, which earned approving smiles from both of them.
"You know, I never really got what's up with you and Mustaine until I saw you two in the same place at the same time," Kirk mused. "It's like you two are in your own little world when you're together. And seeing him all smitten like this is a funny sight. Congrats, babe," he continued, pulling me in for another hug. I let out a soft chuckle in response.
"Can I crash the congrats party?" a familiar voice piped up, and I lit up as I spun around to find James, a hint of a smile on his face.
"James!" I blurted out, pulling him in for a hug, which he met with a soft laugh. "I thought... I thought you were gonna bail on me."
"A dude can't even be fashionably late these days?" he teased, and I laughed. "Of course I was gonna show up. You think you can shake me off that easily, Burton?"
"Mustaine-Burton, actually," I corrected him, and he just rolled his eyes.
"As if I'm gonna go with that," he quipped, caressing my hair softly, which made me giggle. "So, where's your... husband?"
"Last I saw, he was chatting with my folks. Ah, there he is," I grinned as I caught sight of Dave, shooting the breeze with his sister while clutching a flute of champagne. He spotted me, then James by my side, and immediately made a beeline over.
"Hey, honey. Hungry yet? I had 'em whip up that salad you're into," he said, slinging an arm around my waist, pulling me in snug. It was a sweet move, not without a hint of claiming me as his own.
"Oh yeah, I'm starving. I was just chatting a bit," I answered, planting a light kiss on Dave's cheek. He grinned and then turned his gaze to James, who met it without saying a word. I watched their silent exchange, feeling a bit on edge, but my eyebrows shot up in surprise when James reached out his hand to Dave, who shook it.
"Congrats, dude," James said, and Dave shot him a tight yet polite smile.
"Thanks."
"I'm thinking of snagging a brew... Catch you later, Nore," James said, giving me a nod. I returned it as he made his way towards the makeshift bar set up for the guests.
"Hey, James!" Dave called out, stopping him in his tracks. James turned back, eyebrow raised in question. Dave hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "I'll take care of her, man. You have my word."
"I know you will," James replied, offering a faint smile. I watched with interest as the two of them seemed to reach some unspoken understanding. Then James turned and headed off.
The party dragged on till way past bedtime. By the time the guests cleared out and the crew tore down the setup, I was beat. My eyes were practically glued shut with exhaustion as I wiped off my makeup and let down my hair. I couldn't help but laugh when I felt Dave sneak up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and planting a slow kiss on my neck, my body warming up at his touch.
"You happy?" he whispered, and I grinned, turning to meet his gaze, our hands intertwining. I couldn't help but smile at the cool touch of his ring against my skin.
"Over the moon," I murmured, letting out a soft chuckle as he fumbled for my dress’ zipper, planting a kiss on my shoulder and pulling me close. His lips trailed up my skin, and I couldn't help but smile when they met mine. "And you?"
"Absolutely," he murmured back, gently nipping at my lower lip.
I let out a sigh as he lifted my dress' hem, settling me on the vanity while taking off my panties. A quiet laugh escaped my lips as he started undoing his pants. He pressed his forehead against mine, parting my thighs with one hand. I moaned softly as he pushed into me, my fingers tangling in his ginger hair as he moved slowly. I tilted my head back as his lips traced the curve of my neck and collarbone.
"Couldn't even wait to get me in bed?" I managed to gasp out, and he smirked, easing himself inside me with slow, deliberate movements.
"What makes you think I won't fuck you in bed too?" he countered with a low growl, and I couldn't help but laugh, the sound melting into a moan as his lips crashed against mine, his thrusts growing more urgent by the second.
I melted into him, fingers tangling in his hair as my lips trailed down to his neck. He let out a deep groan, his hold on my hips tightening as his breathing grew heavier, his movements getting more frenzied by the second. I couldn't help but moan as he slipped a hand down to my clit, working it with such skill that sent shivers down my spine.
"My beautiful wife," he growled, burying his face in my neck as I clung to him. He grunted as he felt me tighten around him, my climax building rapidly. His movements grew more urgent, and I shuddered as the pleasure became almost overwhelming, my body convulsing with each wave as I moaned his name. He pulled me close, his rhythm faltering as he released inside me, his forehead resting against my shoulder, his breath coming in heavy pants. I giggled as he peppered kisses along my shoulder, then my neck, nibbling lightly on my ear before whispering again, "My beautiful, beautiful wife."
I had never been happier.
✧ But if you send for me, you know I'll come / And if you call for me, you know I'll run / I'll run to you, I'll run to you / I'll run, run, run / I'll come to you, I'll come to you / I'll come, come, come
And if you call I'll run, run, run / If you change your mind, I'll come, come, come ✧
December 31st, 1992
Two months later, we headed back to San Francisco for Lars' annual New Year's Eve bash. Dave wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the thought of ringing in the new year with his old band mates, but I promised him he didn't have to mingle with them if he didn't feel like it. I mean, Lars' parties were notorious for being massive. Dave was trying his best to wrap his head around the fact that having me in his life also meant having some sort of contact with Lars, Kirk, and James. Surprisingly, he was handling it better than I thought he would.
I let out a sigh, a little smile playing on my lips as we pulled up to Lars' vacation home. Last time I’d set foot there, getting back with Dave wasn't even on my radar. If someone had told me then that a year later we'd be married, I'd have probably burst out laughing. It was like in the past year, all my wildest dreams had decided to come true.
I grinned as we stepped into our guest room and spotted Lars' handiwork of choosing the perfect outfits for his guests; this time, a stunning blood-red gown for me, paired with a slick black suit and shirt in the same shade for Dave. Dave let out a low whistle at the sight of our getups, slinging an arm around my waist.
"You’ll look absolutely gorgeous in that dress, babe," he said with a smile, leaning in to brush his lips against my ear. "Can't wait to take it off you later."
I laughed, giving him a playful shove, and he planted a kiss on my lips before stepping back.
The party was off the hook, as usual. Even Dave seemed blown away by the spread of food, drinks, and all the big shots milling around, though he tried to play it cool, which just made me smile. We worked the room together, hand in hand, stopping here and there to shoot the breeze with some familiar faces.
At one point, we split up when Dave went to grab us some drinks. That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and when I turned around, a smile spread across my face at the sight of James. He was rocking an all-black outfit, his blond hair flowing and his face looking healthier than I had seen in years.
"Thought you were gonna bail this year. You know, since your husband's not our biggest fan," James said, a slight grin playing on his lips. I rolled my eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous, James. I wouldn't miss hanging out with you guys for anything," I retorted before pulling him into a hug. He let out a satisfied sigh, keeping me close for maybe a bit longer than strictly necessary, his hand resting at the small of my back as he buried his face in my hair.
"You look stunning," he whispered in my ear, and I swear I could feel my cheeks flushing. "Missed you, Nore," he grinned, those blue eyes twinkling with a certain mischief that sent my heart into a flutter.
Guess I wasn't entirely immune to James' charms after all.
Later, after the party wrapped up, Dave and I ended up back in our room, his hands all over me, his body pressing me against the wall, his tongue tangling with mine as I let out soft moans, my fingers entwined in his soft ginger hair. He suddenly pulled away when we heard a knock on the door. I blinked, curious. Dave groaned, irritated, rolling his eyes, and I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath.
"I'll get it," I offered, and he grunted, stepping aside to let me reach the door. Swinging it open, I was taken aback to find James standing there. His eyes swept over me, a faint smile playing on his lips as he noticed my flushed cheeks and mussed-up hair.
"Bad timing?" he quipped, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks once more.
"James, what's up? Need something?" I inquired, and he let out a low laugh, that same hint of mischief as before flashing in his eyes.
"You know why I'm here, sweetheart. Mind if I come in?" he murmured, his voice dropping. My skin warmed when Dave's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as he planted a kiss on my neck.
"What do you think, babe?" Dave murmured, his proximity sending my pulse into overdrive. James observed, desire flickering in his blue eyes as he let out a soft sigh. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I realized what was about to happen. "Should we let him in?"
I glanced at James, who flashed a playful grin before closing the gap between us, lifting my chin with his fingers before pressing his lips to mine.
Believe it or not, that was the kick-off to some of the happiest times of my life. James, Dave, and I kept our meetings going for a few months, and I gotta say, it was pretty amazing to experience loving both of them at the same time.
But James had a point in the end; keeping our thing under wraps, away from the public, got tougher and more draining by the day. And even though he didn't outright say it, I could tell Dave wasn't thrilled about sharing me. Plus, James and Dave still had a lot of resentment between them; not even the possibility of both of them having me eased the wounds they still needed to heal. So, as time went on, our three-way nights became rarer until they just fizzled out completely.
Surprisingly, that didn't wreck my bond with James, thanks to something totally unexpected: him falling for someone else. Strangely enough, it didn't bug me as much as I thought it would. I had a long history of feeling jealous of James' girlfriends back in the day. But now, it was like our connection had matured into something peaceful. I was genuinely glad to see him finding happiness, just like he was glad to see how happy my marriage made me.
So, believe it or not, I found myself happy. I had a husband who adored me, a successful career, and friends who were like family. Sure, Cliff's loss was like a shadow that never quite left, but I wasn't going through my mourning alone. Some days hit harder than others, but ain't that just life? We all coped in our own ways, not always the healthiest, but bit by bit, I learned to live again.
Bit by bit, I allowed myself to be happy again.
✧ Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine / Cashmere, cologne and hot sunshine / Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine / And we were young and pretty ✧
November 14, 1993
It happened not long after my first wedding anniversary.
The past year had been smooth sailing for both me and Dave. Hardly anything threw a wrench in the works; I kept climbing up the ladder in acting, and Dave was killing it in his music gig. His band was hitting new highs, even if that meant he was on the road more and we were apart a bunch. But, in the end, it just made every second we had together even sweeter.
Somewhere in the last few months, I’d ditched the birth control pills. Not 'cause Dave and I were mapping out parenthood or anything, but just because we figured we'd want kids somewhere down the line. Seemed like a good time to let nature take its course — if it happened, cool. If it didn’t, that was okay too.
I just wasn’t ready for it to happen that fast — but the two lines that appeared on the pregnancy test didn't lie.
I was pregnant.
Maybe it wasn't the smartest move to take that test while Dave was still laying down tracks at the studio. Because now, a full-on panic started to set in as I stared at that little plastic stick. I only grabbed it because I'd been feeling like garbage — tired as hell and sick to my stomach round the clock. Plus, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had a period. But even with all those hints, the result still caught me off guard.
I rested a hand on my belly, staring at my own nervous reflection in the mirror. I had no clue how I was gonna break the news to Dave. And with the band gearing up for another album, I couldn't predict how he'd take it either. Albums meant tours, and I was freaking out, thinking I might mess up Dave's whole career and plans.
Chill out, I told myself. He's been wanting this as much as you have.
And it was true. Actually, it was Dave who'd thrown out the idea of me ditching the birth control pills. I tried to keep that in mind, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath. It kinda eased some of my nerves. I absentmindedly noticed my face was all flushed.
"Nore?" I jumped when I heard Dave's voice. I hadn't even noticed he'd gotten back home, but then again, I was holed up in the bathroom upstairs. I heard a couple of taps on the door. "You in there?"
"Yeah, I'm here!" I called out, shoving the test back into its box and tucking it away in the cabinet under the sink before swinging the door open. Dave grinned at me, his ginger hair pulled back into a ponytail, and reached out for a hug. I chuckled softly, some of the tension melting away as I wrapped my arms around him, nuzzling into his chest. "Hey there, baby. Welcome home."
"You feeling any better?" He ran a gentle hand through my hair.
Now it was clear why I'd felt so sick — another day where I just couldn't drag myself to work because of the nausea. Dave would've stayed put if I hadn't practically pushed him out the door to the studio. Didn't want to throw a wrench in the works of the band's new album. The idea of being a hassle to him brought tears to my eyes, which kinda ticked me off. Guess my hormones were already all over the place.
Which meant one thing: I had to tell him.
"Dave..." I started, my voice shaky, meeting his gaze. He brushed his fingers over my face gently, a flicker of worry in his eyes.
"What is it?" he whispered. I tried to speak, to put into words what I needed to say, but I found myself speechless. Instead, I reached for his hand and pressed it against my stomach under my shirt. He looked at me, puzzled for a second, before realization slowly dawned in his eyes.
"Wait, seriously? Is this... Is this what I think it is?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. I nodded, a grin spreading across my face.
"Yeah, it is. We're... We're gonna have a baby," I confirmed, finally managing to say it. "I'm pregnant... You're gonna be a dad."
"Holy shit, are you serious?" he beamed, cupping my face in his hands and planting a bunch of little kisses on my lips, making me giggle. "I can't believe this!"
"It's true, Dave. Just took the test."
"Oh man, we gotta tell everyone!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "And we gotta start prepping the baby's room... You think it's gonna be a boy or a girl?"
I smiled, feeling my heart light up at Dave's enthusiasm. I'd been worrying for nothing, I realized. He'd never see this pregnancy as a setback. That guy had shown me his love time and time again, way more than I could ever measure, way more than I ever thought I deserved.
I knew he was gonna be an amazing dad.
July 27, 1994
Elise Rose Mustaine-Burton came into the world in the early hours of a summer morning.
When I finally got to hold her, sweat and tears mixed as my whole body ached, it was as if my world had shifted for a moment; holding her, I just knew – life would never be the same again.
I fell for her right away, a fierce, raw, and unconditional love that just flooded through me. It wasn't like I had to make room for her in my heart; it was more like her arrival had stretched it wide open, carving out a piece of my soul that was hers and hers alone, forever.
I could tell Dave felt it too. When he held her, a grin lit up his face, tears welling in his eyes as he cradled her against his chest. She was so small, and so unmistakably ours — her little tufts of hair already matching Dave's, her eyes a deep blue that could only have come from me.
First time breastfeeding hit me harder than I thought. I sat there, cradling her close as she suckled vigorously, trying to push through the pain. But the hormonal roller coaster I’d just gone through suddenly overwhelmed me. I blinked, tears welling up, and Dave slid in beside me on the bed, planting a gentle kiss on my cheek.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.
"Yeah, just stings a bit," I answered, my voice shaking. He gave me a gentle squeeze, careful not to jostle me too much.
"Want me to buzz the nurse?"
"Nah, I'll tough it out," I said, sniffling, and he wiped away the tears from my cheek. I let out a sigh of relief when Elise finally finished feeding, and Dave scooped her up while I got myself together, handing her back to me soon after.
"You're crying," he noted, and I looked up to meet his worried hazel eyes. "You sure you don't want me to call the nurse, babe?"
"I'm good," I said, wiping my face with one hand while holding Elise close with the other. "Just blame it on the hormones. Can you believe she's finally here?" I asked softly, my voice still shaky, and Dave grinned. "She looks just like you."
"She's got my hair, but that cute face is all yours," he remarked, gently holding her hand. Elise latched onto one of Dave's fingers right away, and I couldn't help but marvel at how tiny she was — five small fingers so delicate they almost looked like they belonged to a doll.
"How can you tell? Babies all look so similar at this age," I wondered, and Dave chuckled. I glanced up at him, tears welling in my eyes again as I smiled. "She's just perfect, Dave."
"She sure is. Just like her mom," he replied, and I let out a quiet laugh before resting my head on his shoulder. Feeling Elise's warmth against me was something entirely new, yet utterly wonderful, calming me down completely. Dave traced a finger lightly over her cheek, and she stirred in her sleep.
"My sweet Lizzie," he murmured, and the nickname sounded so perfect on his lips that I knew he'd hardly call her anything else from then on. He grinned, his eyes brimming with pure love as they met mine, and he planted a gentle kiss on my temple. "Can you believe we made her?" he whispered against my skin. "I didn't think it was possible to love you more than I already did, but you keep proving me wrong. How do you do it?"
“It’s easy,” I smiled. “You do the same for me.”
Dave smiled softly, giving me a light kiss before drawing me in closer. I let myself sink into his embrace, with our baby snug against me, and let out a contented sigh.
"I think I'm about to fall asleep," I mumbled, feeling my eyelids drooping.
"Course you are. You need some shut-eye," Dave chuckled, his smile practically audible, before gently transferring Lizzie to her crib. I grumbled softly, already missing the feel of her in my arms, but knowing it was best to wait until I was more awake to hold her. Dave settled back beside me on the bed, wrapping me in his arms, resting my head on his shoulder, and I let out a contented sigh, soaking in the warmth of his skin against mine. “I love you, Nore.”
"I love you too," I mumbled back, already drifting off, smiling as his lips brushed my forehead, and letting out a quiet laugh.
"What's on your mind?" Dave asked, grinning, and I shook my head.
"Just feeling damn lucky," I murmured, blinking open my eyes with a yawn. Dave cupped my face in his hand, stroking my cheek gently, a gesture so familiar, so him . I grinned, giving his jaw a light kiss, and he sighed. “I'm so lucky to be loved by you.”
It was actually kinda funny, you know, how lucky I was. The world might see Dave as this guy with a short fuse, sharp tongue, and a chip on his shoulder from all the crap life threw at him, but I didn’t. My Dave was not like that.
My Dave was sweet, affectionate, and thoughtful. He loved me, and he made damn sure I felt it, every single day of our lives.
And me? The longer I spent with him, the more I was sure that some things between us were simply meant to be.
We were always meant to fall in love. We were always meant to find one another. We were always meant to be together, for me to save him, for him to save me, every day, again, and again, and again.
We were always meant to love each other.
And I loved him.
God, how I loved him.
September 29, 1999
It was early morning when I finally rolled back home, tour fatigue dragging me down like a ton of bricks. No matter how many times I'd done this, coming back after weeks on the road always hit me like a truck. It was like all the exhaustion caught up to me at once, weighing me down.
The only thing stronger was the longing to see her.
Stepping inside, her voice coming from the kitchen welcomed me right away. I grinned, feeling like a kid again, head over heels in love with her. It was like my heart couldn’t quite wrap its head around how lucky I was to have her as my wife. Every time I laid eyes on her, it was like seeing her for the first time all over again — pure excitement and enchantment that I'd never felt with anyone else.
"What’s next?" she chirped as I strolled into the kitchen, her voice all sing-songy, setting off giggles from Lizzie, our little girl. I grinned at the sight; Nore was at the table, ingredients scattered about, while Lizzie sat on a stool, peeking over the table, her ginger hair tied up in pigtails, her blue eyes sparkling as she beamed at Nore.
"An egg!" Lizzie answered, so hyped up it cracked me up, catching both of their gazes. They both lit up with identical smiles when they spotted me, one a bit smaller and with a few less teeth than the other. "Daddy!" Lizzie squealed, beaming as I walked over, and I chuckled when she slapped her tiny hands on my chest, bouncing in her chair until I scooped her up, settling her on my lap. "We're making pancakes! Mommy said you get super hungry when you come home from work."
"No kidding?" I grinned, pulling her in close to my chest. She seemed taller and heavier since the last time I’d held her, but still the same gorgeous girl, a perfect mix of me and the woman I loved more than anything. "Well, she got that right. I am super, super hungry!" I nuzzled my face into her tummy, and she erupted into giggles, grabbing onto my hair as she cracked up, tossing her head back. Nore joined in, her laughter contagious, plastering an immediate smile on my face.
I plopped Lizzie back on her stool and turned to my wife, who flashed me a sweet grin as I cradled her face in my hands. I was itching to kiss her, to wrap her up tight in my arms and feel her melt against me, to trace every inch of her skin with my lips and my touch because no matter how close we got — it never felt close enough.
But Lizzie was watching us, so I settled for a quick peck on her lips. The more intense kisses would have to wait until night, when I’d take her clothes off and shower her with love, turning her into the most delightful mess of moans under my touch. She grinned into our kiss, her smile sweeter than ever (though honestly, every smile of hers just kept getting sweeter to me), and I couldn't resist kissing her one more time.
"Good to have you home," she said, and my heart swelled with warmth.
Later, after Lizzie had crashed out and we'd retreated to our bedroom, I finally got to pull Nore close, my lips trailing along her neck while she giggled softly, her arms snug around my shoulders as she perched on my lap.
"So, it's just you and me now?" she asked, all sweet-like, and I grunted, my hand drifting down to the little bump already poking out from her belly with our second kid on the way.
"Just you and me," I confirmed. With the tour wrapped up, I'd be sticking around until the new baby was born and the tough early months were behind us. Balancing the rockstar life with being a present dad and husband wasn't always easy, but I gave it my all. And man, was I lucky to have an understanding wife, who was also a wonderful mom, and one hell of a strong woman. No idea what I’d done to score such luck.
That night, every kiss I planted on her skin was filled with nothing but worship. I soaked up every second I got to touch her, her hushed moans echoing in the room as my tongue delved into the wetness between her legs, then her heavy breathing brushing against my cheek as she rode me slowly. Her chest pressed against mine, her arms locked around my neck, my hands guiding her hips in a steady rhythm as we moved together. Slow, tender kisses mixed with the sweetest moans I could ever wish to hear.
And then, after we finished, she cuddled up next to me, her bare skin cozy against mine as she lazily traced patterns on my chest with her fingertips. That had always been my favorite part — having her right there with me, knowing she was mine, that she wasn’t going anywhere, that her love was like a safe haven I could always come home to.
"I love you," she whispered, and I grinned, locking eyes with her. Eyes so blue I drowned, being pulled right into her soul.
"And I love you," I replied, my voice low and raspy. She laughed softly as I planted a gentle kiss on her lips. How damn lucky was I to always have her to come back to, no matter what, no matter where. To know that I'd always find her, over and over again, no matter the distance or the obstacles.
To know that if I had a hundred lifetimes, I'd choose to love her in every single one of them.
And by some miracle of fate, she was mine.
Mother of my children.
Light of my days.
Love of my life.
✧ the story's over, but if you'd like to be tagged on any eventual extra chapters, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet @decemberm0on
✦ a/n: And that's a wrap ❤
If you've been following along with this story, I just want to thank you with all my heart! It's been quite a journey for me, taking over a year to finish this fic. I've grown a ton as a writer, and I've had a blast interacting with all of you along the way. Honestly, when I first started posting, I never expected anyone to read it, so getting feedback from you all has been an awesome surprise. Your presence here has really kept me going, so thanks a million for that! 💖
So, we've reached the end of Nore's adventure, and it's been a happy one (just like I promised)! I might come back with a few extra chapters set in this universe down the road, but for now, I'm shifting gears to some other projects. If you want to stay in the loop, I'm always sharing updates about my fics right here on my blog!
If you've got any comments, feedback or reviews about the story, I'd love to read them. Thanks again for diving into Heartbreaker and enjoying the ride with me.
Catch you later! ❤
#it's done!!#😭💖#ada writes fanfiction#heartbreaker fanfic#metallica#megadeth#james hetfield#dave mustaine#cliff burton#lars ulrich#metallica fanfiction#dave mustaine x oc#dave mustaine fanfiction#nore burton (oc)#james hetfield x oc#metallica x reader#megadeth x reader#james hetfield x reader#dave mustaine x reader#metallica smut#megadeth smut#james hetfield smut#dave mustaine smut#cliff burton x reader#megadeth fanfiction#david ellefson#kirk hammett#megadeth x you#metallica x you#dave mustaine x you
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Aches and Adoration // Part 2
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Summary: It’s been a few years since you became a member of Dauntless and you want to brush up on your fighting skills. Getting Eric to help you was probably not your best idea.
Warnings: Explicit language, violence and injury, fem!reader
Word Count: 1.9k
Taglist: @not-the-teen-witch @ask-the-inserts
You woke up sore, stiff and bleary eyed with barely any energy to brush your teeth let alone shower. You pulled on the comfiest sweater and pair of leggings you could find before shoving on some fluffy socks and heading out to go and find Christina. You hoped she’d be in her room so you could privately wallow in your own self-pity while still enjoying her company. You opened your door, too distracted by the pain in your ribs to notice the fist in front of your face.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, “will it ever end?” Rubbing your forehead with the heel of your hand you glanced up at your vicious attacker to find Eric, still with his arm outstretched, hand poised to knock.
“You walked into my hand, just so you know.” He shrugged and you figured that was the closest thing to an apology you’d get.
“I’m not really in the mood to deal with your bullshit today Eric.” You sighed, side-stepping around the man and starting your slow, wincing walk down the corridor.
“I only came by to tell you that I’ve decided to help with your naïve attempt to get some actual muscle definition.” He huffed. The unexpected response had you coming to a halt a few feet away. “But if that’s too much bullshit for you I guess you can find someone else to pummel your internal organs.”
Two things happened. First you face turned bright red as your filthy mind thought about the ways in which he could pummel your internal organs. And then once you had calmed down from that disturbing thought a massive grin broke out on your face and you turned around to face Eric. Unfortunately, as was your luck, your fluffy socks lost all grip on the concrete as you spun and your feet flew out from underneath you. Eric being the ever alert leader whipped out his arm and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, stopping you just short of having your coccyx come into contact with the solid ground. He deftly pulled you up from you position on the floor, your injuries protesting with the use of your core.
“Jesus your balance is atrocious, no wonder you can’t fight.” Eric looked down at you condescendingly.
“I think you’ll find its these actually.” You bent your leg, lifting one of your embarrassing socks into view and Eric merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow in response.
“How long did the doctor say you had to wait before you can start training?”
“A couple more days until I can work on the basics apparently. You know, like my balance.” Grinning up at him you watched him roll his eyes. But his face held no malice and you allowed yourself an inkling of hope that maybe he would be able to tolerate you long enough to at least get you back to your previous skill level.
“Right. Be at the training room 6:00 sharp on Wednesday. We have a lot of work ahead of us.” Eric’s eyes flicked down your body, no doubt assessing your atrocious posture and lack of muscle.
“Ok,” you nodded, “thanks Eric!” If he was surprised at how brightly you smiled at him, he didn’t show it. However, you didn’t miss the way he rubbed at the back of his neck and muttered something to himself before heading off in the opposite direction.
~~~
Wednesday morning came around faster than you’d liked, but you were keen to start actually training now that you didn’t feel like you’d die with every breath. You had asked Christina if she would join you in the hopes that her presence would help alleviate some of the anxiety swirling in your gut, but she balked when you told her you had to meet Eric so early. It was 5:50 on the dot when you pushed open the door to the training room full of grappling dummies and weapons. Eric was stood near the mats with his arms crossed and a furrow between his brows. You slipped through the door and scurried over to him, trying to hide the slight tremble in your hands by tugging at your sleeves and fiddling with your water bottle.
“You’re late.” He glowered down at you.
“No I’m not! You said-”
“I don’t care what I said. Start warming up.” With that he turned his back on you and picked up his tablet. Clearly he had more important things to be doing than teaching your sorry ass how to stand properly, you rolled your eyes at the thought.
“It’s going to take a lot of work and I’m obviously going to expect you to exceed this because your form was god awful. How did you even pass initiation?” Mumbling the last part, Eric had turned back to face you, holding out the tablet so that you could watch the footage. It was you, during your initiation, just barely beating another initiate in the ring.
“Anything will be better than my current level, don’t ya think.” You crinkled your nose in a self-deprecating wince and let out a huff of amusement.
“No. If you want to beat that giant asshole you’re going to have to work yourself to death. Don’t ya think?” He mocked.
The following two hours were laden with complaints from Eric. “Who the hell taught you to do it like that?!” He exclaimed when he saw your feeble attempt at kicking the dummy.
“Um, Four?” You rubbed the back of your neck and hid the flush of your cheeks behind your hair. Eric merely rolled his eyes as if your answer explained everything he needed to know. “Can you show me again please?” You asked, wanting the focus off of you, stepping back from the dummy and glancing up at your trainer with pleading eyes. He obliged without comment and you watched as the dummy was flung backwards on its stand. Eric smirked at the bewilderment on your face and gestured for you to take your place in front of the target. Your kick was much more accurate this time around, but it still lacked power.
“I’m doing it exactly like you told me to, and I’m still not getting it right.” Frustration was starting to get to you, the repetitive exercises taking their toll.
“Considering you’ve gone six years without even punching something, I’d say you’re doing as well as expected. At least you made contact this time.” His grin was mocking, but there was no malice behind it. Maybe he was actually pleased with the progress you’d made in just one session. You smiled up at him affectionately but he was quick to shut you down. “We’re done for today. Grab a shower and get to work.”
Four knew that you would be a couple minutes late to your shift in control so you took your time washing the sweat from your overexerted body, taking care when soaping up your injured ribs, giving you time to reflect on your first proper experience with Eric Coulter. You could easily see how people might hate him with his smug grin and bad attitude but you honestly weren’t offended by the way he talked to you. He was helping you after all, and there was no clearly discernible benefit for him that you could see so you simply shrugged off his harsh remarks and tried to take his advice on board. It was probably your inner Amity giving him the benefit of the doubt but even your Dauntless self had to appreciate his questionable altruism.
~~~
Two weeks had passed and you were improving each day under Eric’s strict guidance. You had taken a couple of ‘rest days’ to practice your weapons handling since the knife that you had kept strapped to your thigh for the last few years was practically decorative at this point. You often left work in the evenings and headed straight back to the training room alone to practice everything Eric had taught you before your shift. It was easier to get into a focused headspace where you could hone your skills without the imposing leader breathing down your neck. He was unbearably distracting some days and it wasn’t just his scathing comments that had you flustered. Cold showers after each session had almost becoming a necessity by this point, especially when he turned up wearing that damn leather vest that showed off his obnoxiously large biceps. His calloused hands directing and contorting your body for the more complex fighting stances had been becoming progressively more intense as you allowed yourself to acknowledge your growing attraction.
It was finally Friday and Four had let you leave work early so you could get some training in before meeting Will and Christina at the Pit. You had crowded round the ring, hoping to watch Thelonious get beaten to a pulp by one of the other fighters. What you hadn’t anticipated, was for that fighter to be none other than Eric Coulter. You knew you shouldn’t worry; Eric was agile and devious but he also had a power behind his punches. You had seen hints of it during your training sessions even though you suspected he seriously reined in his hits when you begged him to spar with you. The bell rang and the match began.
Eric was bouncing on the balls of his feet, dodging Thelonious’ heavy fists and landing jab after jab to the larger mans weakest points. You watched with a mixture of awe and trepidation as Eric leapt forward, ignoring the impact of knuckles on his ribcage, and grabbed a hold of that preciously braided beard, using it to deftly swing himself onto Thelonious’ shoulders, wrapping his legs in a vice around the hulking beasts throat. A vein appeared above Eric’s pierced brow with the effort, but a conceding Thelonious tapped his attackers leg in a desperate bid for mercy, face blue and eyes becoming increasingly bloodshot with his breathless panic. Eric simply squeezed tighter.
“That is how you win a fight.” He hissed after completely flooring his colossal opponent and strutting past you. He tried to hide it but you noticed the slight movement of his shoulders that showed he was favouring his left side. You could just imagine the bruise blossoming across his ribs from the only punch his adversary had managed to land. You knew exactly how much damage those fists could do. The tension across his back had you jogging from your spot at the edge of the ring to follow him, leaving Will and Christina standing in the cheering crowd with matching looks of bewilderment.
You caught up with the infamous leader in a quiet corridor, he was heading in the opposite direction to the infirmary and you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. He didn’t turn to acknowledge you and you trotted up to his side, trying to match his impossible stride.
“Can I help you?” He barked through gritted teeth.
“Erm, can I help you?” Biting your lip at your hesitancy you looked up at your trainer, his furrowed brow casting a dark shadow over his eyes. He was in pain but he’d be damned if he admitted it. “Please Eric, you’re hurt.” You sighed, reaching gently for his sleeve, silently entreating him to slow his pace. He shook his arm out of your grip, but his marching stride slowed ever so slightly. Sticking by his side it wasn’t long until you reached his apartment, he pulled his key card from his back pocket with an imperceptible wince and shouldered his way into the room, his fingertips lingering on the door so that it stayed open just enough for you to slip through.
#eric coulter#eric divergent#eric coulter x reader#x reader#eric coulter x you#x you#reader insert#divergent#divergent fanfiction#no y/n#g writes#jai courtney
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What a Man - A Manny/Reader One Shot Story.
You meet Manny in a bar... and promptly take him home for some filthy fun! Focuses on the dynamic of a younger man/older woman age gap, as there are so many younger woman/older man fics out there, I thought I would mix it up a little. Can be enjoyed by whatever age, though (18+ of course!) because it’s smut, and we all love that, but yeah, I wanted any 40+ readers to feel specifically catered to, for once!
Words - 4,571
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
“Triple Jack, no ice.”
Christ. It sounds like the guy who just took a seat beside you at the bar has had a similarly bad day to you.
You see his ring adorned hand from the corner of your eye, long, tapered fingers clutching the glass, sinking it back. “Another.”
The bartender dutifully fulfils the request. “Another.”
“Might as well put a straw in the damned bottle,” you mutter, but not quite under your breath as much as you might’ve hoped.
“I would, but Logan here frowns upon that.” Turning your head to the side, you do a rapid double take. Good grief. That is one hell of a tall drink of water. “Evening, mamacita.” His eyes give you a quick up and down, smiling widely, turning back to his drink. He then looks at you again, his face a picture of curiosity. “What the fuck is a fine assed lady like you doing sitting in this dank shit hole alone? Or am I about to get my shit rocked for taking an interest in some dude’s ole’ lady?”
He makes reference to receiving trouble, but turning to look at him, you aren’t left in any doubt that he could more than handle himself in a fight. Bikers know how to ruck. Outlaws – of which he is from the kutte – even more so.
You take a breath through your nose, sinking the rest of your drink. “You seem like a real charmer, but I’m not in the mood for it.”
His reply is quick. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Being left alone while I make my way through that bottle of Sailor Jerry.”
His eyebrow arches, a wide smile showing a mouth of perfect, white teeth. “Well, alright, baby. You don’t gotta be all mad about it.” he pauses then, sipping his drink. “Just know I’ll be sitting here, not able to get those thighs out of my damned mind. Ignore me, it’s cool.”
‘You’ve put on weight; I don’t like it. Go on a diet, for heaven’s sake.’
There they are, his words, echoing through your head again, the words of the man that up until that afternoon, you’d been married to for twelve years. Until he left you for a younger woman. A younger, slenderer woman. You are by no means fat, your stomach has remained flat, your arms are toned, but you definitely carry a little more weight upon your thighs, some more junk in your trunk, too.
Curvy is en vogue right now, but your ex? He wanted a toothpick with breast implants. Bad ones. And usually, you would never shame a woman for the kind of figure she has, or how she chooses to enhance it, but, well, you’re forty-five and feeling a tad bitter. She’s twenty-one, and living in your old house with the man who promised to love and remain faithful to you forever.
And now here you are, alone, in a dive bar, ‘celebrating’ your divorce being finalised as of five hours ago. It’s more drowning your sorrows; the simple truth of the situation is not lost on you. You did not intend to become a divorcee. What is lost on you, however, what you cannot even see, is just how attractive you still are, or how much the outlaw - who you might notice is at least ten years younger than you, if you were paying attention - cannot keep his eyes off of you.
“Thick thighs save lives.”
You can’t fight the upturn at the corners of your mouth. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that.
“Is yours in need of saving, especially?”
He snorts softly, cocking his head a little. “Depends on who I piss off.”
You can imagine, in his chosen career field. “I envisage it takes more than thick thighs.”
“Likely,” he confesses, “but after a long, hard day, they sure are nice to have wrapped around me.”
Oh yeah. He’s smooth as hell. And he knows it.
“Mine aren’t on offer for said wrapping.”
He hisses a breath, turning to you more fully. “That’s a damned shame, querida. Because I assure you, you’d very much enjoy me being between ‘em.”
You glance around the bar, seeing two groups of women who you have at least fifteen years in age on, if not more, looking back at the outlaw with the deep, chocolate brown eyes. “Why don’t you try your luck with a girl a little closer to your age?”
“Because I don’t want to.” Simple, concise. You can’t fault that. “I tire of girls. I want me a woman. There’s only one in here who I find attractive, so I sat myself down next to her. She ain’t biting at my bait, though. Damn you, making a fella doubt his game.” He shakes his head, sinking the bourbon, placing the glass down. “You want another in there?”
You have to mentally stop here, and promptly slap yourself. The most gorgeous man in here is working his damned ass off in order to flirt with you... and you keep knocking him back. Are you really so turned into such a hardened man hater, that you can’t even accept that one might, just might, find you attractive?
“That’d be great, thank you...” you trail off.
“Manny.” He offers his hand forward. You reveal your name, shaking it, a little ripple turning your tummy over pleasantly when he winks at you, so rapidly that you’re unsure if he actually did. He then calls Logan back over, the bartender dutifully refilling both glasses with your chosen poison.
“Thank you, Manny. Cheers.” You touch your glass against his, smiling as you sip your rum, turning and taking him in properly. Yes, he most definitely is the most handsome man in the bar. You truly should let it be the little shot in your arm you likely need to just unquestionably enjoy.
“So, why are you attempting to see yourself to the bottom of the rum bottle, then? You having a time of it, or aspiring to follow in the footsteps of Jack Sparrow?” Charming, gorgeous, flirty, and he’s funny too. You could do a hell of a lot worse. You could still be stuck with your philandering husband, as well as his bald spot/beer gut combo. Yikes. And he told you to go on a diet. The audacity.
“Both?” He laughs, shaking his head. “My divorce was finalised this afternoon, so I decided to take myself out to celebrate. Except it turned into a lament that I’m forty-five with a failed marriage behind me.”
He raises his eyebrows, glass paused on its way to his mouth. “You’re forty-five?”
“I suppose you find that a turn off,” you scoff lightly.
“Nope, I just put you at around thirty is all. I ain’t flattering either, for real, girl. Damn, you look good. I’m thirty-five and I have more smile lines than you do. As for the failed marriage, better off if he didn’t make you happy.”
“Nah,” you shrug, taking a swig of your drink. “He’s reserving that for the twenty-one year old with the square, plastic tits he cheated on me with.”
“Oh, man. Ain’t nothing worse than a bad boob job,” he grimaces, shaking his head. “My ex had hers done and they never looked or felt right. Made her sick too, so she took ‘em out in the end. I never wanted her to get ‘em done in the first place, but eh, it made her happy. Until it didn’t. Jokes on your ex, though. Because at the risk of getting slapped, I gotta say, yours are gorgeous. In fact, all of you is damned gorgeous. He’s out of his fucking mind, playing away from all of that.”
“Yeah,” you accede, feeling confident. “He fucking is. He wanted skinny, though, and that’s not me.”
“Skinny chicks, eh,” he pauses, sucking his teeth. “While I ain’t got nothing against ‘em, they’re a dime a dozen. Seeing a woman built like you, that’s what excites the shit out of me. I like what you have going on very much, mamas.” His eyes tour you again, a faint ‘Mmm’ noise echoing his throat as he licks his lips, his right eyebrow fluttering.
“That’s nice to hear, I guess.” You have to give him a little more, he’s working his butt off, and you see that clearly.
“It sounds like it’s about time you had someone tell you.” He pauses, biting his bottom lip, letting it slide out from his teeth. What it is about that action, you aren’t sure, but it made your insides throb. “If you were mine, I’d never let you out of bed. My free time hobbies would solely focus on making you damned happy with my tongue.” Such a statement makes you blow your drink back into the glass, Manny laughing into his, knocking back the rest. “Logan!”
The bartender ambles over, pouring him another measure. “Sorry if that was too much, by the way. I kinda lose my filter, the more of this stuff I drink. Also, after a little initial frostiness, I sense I’m getting you to thaw.”
You lean forward a little, catching his scent. Oh, boy. That’s one very nicely scented man, spicy and woody, with a hint of leather. “So... just your tongue?”
His smile widens, turning into a full-blown grin. “Take me home, and you get to find out.”
You drop your head for a moment, considering your options. Two fingers then lift your chin, Manny staring at you intently.
“You won’t regret it. And if you do, I won’t leave your bed until you don’t.”
That’s the best offer you’ve gotten since your divorce lawyer gave you five free billable hours.
“Drink up.” You both slam back the contents of your glasses, heading outside, taking your phone out and calling an Uber.
“How long?” he asks, nodding at your phone upon noticing the app.
“Four minutes.”
“Ahh,” he takes your face in your hands, leaning closer to you. “Enough time to enjoy this, then.” His mouth descends, lips capturing yours in a kiss, both of sugar and embers. It deepens in a nanosecond, his arms wrapping around you, yours draping around his neck. Oh, god. Ohhhh... can the man kiss. Slow, sensual, passionate. Fuck. It makes a warm, rich wave of longing wash right through you, so much so that you don’t even notice the Uber pulling up until the driver opens the window and calls your name.
The ride back is spent in much the same way, fused at the mouth, keening gently for one another. Once you arrive at your home, though, it isn’t quite as PG.
“Fuck, you are so goddamned beautiful.” he moans, pressing you against the hallway wall, his hands pulling at your top, tugging it over your head, fingers trailing down your neck to grasp at your tits. He then ducks, lifting you over his shoulder with ease, his hand pounding off your butt, making you scream with laughter. “God, I’m gonna fucking wreck you. Which way to the bedroom?”
“Down the hall, second on the right.” You’re carried there quickly, thrown down on your bed, reaching to turn the lamp on... and then swiftly regretting it when you see him shake off his kutte and undo his shirt, revealing the lithe, athletic body beneath, all tattoos, smooth chest and lean muscles. And he’s ten years younger than you. That’s when the gravitas of it hits you.
“You looked spooked. I’m not that bad, am I?” he smirks, moving to pull your legs straight again from where you’ve drawn them up a little, feeling self-conscious, trying to hide a bit.
“No, no it isn’t you,” you begin, sighing. Oh yeah, this is so sexy, having a panic with a one-night stand, one who looks as utterly magnificent as him.
He reads it well, shaking his head, getting back up off the bed. “Baby, we don’t have a problem here.” He keeps eye contact with you firmly, stripping off his jeans, kicking his boots and socks off, his tight, grey boxers the last item to be shed, standing there and gesturing to what can only be described as a very hard, very beautiful cock. “This should tell you how lacking in a problem we are right now.”
He crawls back onto the bed, hands parting your knees, kissing you heatedly as he begins to unfasten your jeans. “Let me see this sexy body.” By the time his kisses have reached the side of your neck, your legs feel like jelly, your body malleable to him entirely. Just from neck kisses. You’ve never had a man arouse quite so thoroughly, but with such little effort, yet you know from the way his mouth tours your skin, effort is exactly what you’re going to get with him.
Tugging your jeans down, he pauses at your underwear, leaving them on as his body settles against you, and that right there is a gesture that hasn’t gone unnoticed. He wants to see you nude, but he also knows that you’re a tad uncomfortable. He knows there’s still a little thaw left, a little winter remaining within you that the flush of spring he rains upon you with careful caresses, kisses and tongue swirls will eventually melt away.
Pleasant mists of heat trickle down your spine as his hands bracket your waist, his tongue fluttering over your collarbones, hands moving to begin stroking your breasts. Your nipples rise to his fingertips, your own hands smoothing up his arms and down his back, feeling the lithe muscles cording beneath your touch. His skin is utterly beautiful, a soft blanket of caramel brown covering you, juddering when your nails trail up his spine, his hips shunting against you. Hmm, he liked that.
“Did that feel good?” you whisper, stroking his short beard, steering his mouth back to yours, receiving decadent kisses full of need.
“Yeah. Pretty much my entire back is a hot spot.” Right on cue, he judders again, a soft moan pooling in his throat as your nails drag his shoulder blades. “Damn.”
“Mmm, noted.” He kisses you again, tongue circling in a slow swirl with yours, that coupled with him shifting, his cock brushing your hip has you keening against him, body arching to his, Manny reading your responses perfectly as his hand creeps beneath your back, flicking your bra undone with the kind of finesse you do not doubt for a second he possesses. Pulling it from you, he makes a low, quiet rumble of appreciation, mouth closing over your nipple and sucking, the action causing heat begin winding through your core.
“God damn, these are some quality tits, mamas.” His compliment makes you snicker a little bit, Manny glad to see you more relaxed. “What?” he chuckles, turning his focus to the other, tongue circling the stiffened peak.
You shake your head softly, still rippled by amusement. “I’ve never heard them referred to as quality tits before.”
“Ain’t you? Well, get used to it.” After he’s given thorough attention to your chest, he begins to shift, a little pool of excitement overflowing within you, because if he kisses and licks the rest of you like that, just what on earth is it going to feel like when his mouth is... oh, just where his fingers brushed against. He grunts lustfully at feeling the dampness of your underwear, a little bite placed upon your hip, hands tugging at the satin covering where his mouth begs to lead him to, pulling your undies off, parting your thighs and wasting no time in tease, his lips lowering to your centre and kissing your folds before his tongue laves through them.
“Mmmmm, oh my fucking god,” he moans, laying another few licks against you, mouth moving to sprinkle kisses over your pubic mound. “Y’all need to expect me to be down here for so long, you forget what I look like. Damn, that’s one sweet little pussy.”
Just twenty minutes or so in a bed with Manny, and you feel more attended to than you ever did in the entirety of your marriage. That truly does speak volumes. There he is, a man ten years your junior, with all the skill and care for a woman’s body that dictates he’s a giver, someone who pays attention, who thrives on showing a woman exactly what he’s capable of, painting a picture of passion across the canvas of her body, and doing so in a way so masterful, you can barely form thought.
He kisses your inner thigh a few times, thumb gilding your clit with strokes that evoke pure sunshine, pushing the hood back and making it stand out before his tongue takes over, soft flickers back and forth having you reeling, the pressure gentle, his eyes watching you as he smiles. “That feel good, mamas?”
“Ohhhhh!”
He chuckles, kissing your bud softly, the heat of his lips searing. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He’s right to, as well, for the pleasure conjured by the simple, soft beating of his tongue has light beaming through you, your walls fluttering, each lick sending tingles skittering down your spine. When he presses his tongue flat against you and drags right through your folds, your back arches, body bent like a bridge over a torridly flowing stream, Manny the water that rushes beneath you. “So fucking wet.” he mumbles, taking another greedy lick at you, mouth closing in a suck as his cheeks hollow, his mouth full of the softest, wet velvet.
His eyes close, his stupidly long, beautiful lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes, like the feathers of a crow wing, a few more long licks given before once again, the tip of his tongue focuses in on your clit, licking the tiniest of circles all around it. He moves it around, little by little, your body suddenly shuddering violently.
“Hmm, right there is pretty good, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah that’s amazing!”
“That’s where I’m staying, then.” This man. He’s so good that not only does he know how a clit works, and how to touch it, but he finds out exactly where he should focus upon it, wants to know where the biggest concentration of nerve endings is upon the little bud, and then targets them. That’s dedication you can get behind, and find utterly mind blowing. He has you out of your head with ecstasy, his tongue beating back and forth, circling, then back and forth once more, lips sucking, and then repeating it all over again, and again... and, oh... again.
“Come on, baby. Damn, I really want you to cum for me, get my tongue even wetter, fuck.” he encourages you with, voice deepened with lust, each lick now placed firmer, driving your release, like a spirit being exorcised as you pant and tremble, crying out helplessly, your hands clutching his head as he brings you to you peak, crumbling for him like an ancient tower as your release fizzes through you, leaving you breathless. “How was that, gorgeous?”
“Can’t talk... ruined...” He bursts out laughing, a deep, rumbling laugh full of mirth.
“Not yet, you ain’t.” He emerges to kiss you, and you taste sweet on his lips, shifting back down again and gripping your thighs. “Hold these sexy assed legs up for me.” You hook your arms beneath your knees, pulling them back to your chest, Manny groaning at the view presented to him. “God fucking damn, that’s a beautiful sight.”
He takes a long lick at you, your clit still sensitive, making you quake when his tongue skims it, Manny realising this and gentling a little, moving his focus to gently push inside of you, tasting your pussy on the inside, moaning as his tongue bobs in and out, moving it down, circling your puckered star, your legs trembling in response. No one has ever done that before, and after a few moments, it seems he cottons on to that fact, too.
“What’s the matter, querida? Never had a horny Latino dude lick your asshole before?” He grins up at you, laying a soft bite to your butt cheek, chuckling with amusement.
“Nope!”
“Alright, I won’t stop, then.” he doesn’t, circling you, pushing within, thumb moving to stroke at your clit, your body feeling like you have entire galaxies burning and collapsing in on themselves within you, your entire sex burning with the continued divinity of what his mouth lavishes upon it. Moving his focus back to your clit, he sucks on it gently, moving his hand to push one, and then two fingers into your soaking heat.”Fuck, that’s so damned hot.” he exclaims quietly, moaning around you, eyes finding yours again, watching as he begins to trawl you, dragging your plush, fingers curling, pushing right against your g spot. “There?”
“Yes, right fucking there!” you wail, the circle he draws inside you burning you right to your bones. That, coupled with the licks he lays over your clit have you gleaming once more, body undulating, your hips purling against his face, Manny groaning as he feels you clench around his fingers, giving you more, sliding a third in and raking your walls, fucking you with them until the lewd sound of him cutting through your slick fills the room, along with your cries as he sends a sweltering flush of pleasure coiling through you, that coil snapping as you cum for him again, breathless and lost in the haze of your orgasm. “Fuck, I want your cock so badly!”
He grins, fingers gentling, kneeling before you, grasping his hardness and rubbing it through your folds. “Yeah, this big dick what you want, baby? Want me to fill you up and stretch you out?”
“Yes, oh god, so much!” you grit, the feel of him, the rigidity of him sliding over your folds and nudging your clit making your cunt throb.
“Can I bareback you? I fucking swear, I don’t got nothing funky you can catch, carina,” he states, lust blown eyes fixing on you, giving you a look that despite your usually better judgement, tells you loud and clear he isn’t lying. You nod, and in one fluid push, he fills you up, the heat of his bare cock within you scintillating, sending a storm of hail through your core. His mouth falls open, an almost helpless moan echoing from his throat, and you can feel the rigidity of him twitching within the snug clutch he’s buried in, parting your knees and leaning down to kiss you, hands sliding through your hair as his cock begins to pump into the silky slick of you.
You wrap your legs around him, squeezing your thighs at his waist, groans tumbling from him as he arrows you a little deeper, tilting his hips in a way that has him filling you, but not hitting your cervix. God, the man knows how to lay pipe, leaving a trail of lusty kisses across your throat, sitting back on his heels and spreading your thighs, watching his cock entering and retreating from you.
“Shit, mamas. You take me so damned well. Ahhh, fuck!” he grits, groaning deep, adding more speed, losing himself to it and beginning to pound into you, evoking your wails, hands clutching at your thighs as he fucks you deep and rough, slowing again, grasping that tentative composure, giving you slower strokes, pulling out, rubbing the head of his cock all over your hard little clit until it throbs against the weeping slit of his hardness, plunging back into you again with a barbarous grunt.
He alternates between unfettered vigour and slow, sensual trawling, pausing every so often to lean in and kiss you, his whispered words making butterflies erupt through you. “Do you feel beautiful yet, baby? Because you should.”
Because of him, you do. Anything your ex told you, about how you weren’t good enough for him, it’s being washed away on the current that is the man inside of you, Manny grasping your waist and hauling you up to begin bouncing you on his cock, mouth stealing hungry kisses full of need from you, strong arms holding you steady as you begin to ride him in a rhythm that has lightning darting up his spine. When you begin trawling your nails over his back, you increase that for him tenfold.
His skin erupts into goosepimples, his mouth kissing constellations across your neck as you grind down on his cock, the pressure perfect, but every bit of this tryst having you greedy for more, for as much as he can give. And give to you he does. Grasping your waist, he levers his hips beneath you, driving up into the sodden mess of your cunt with aggressive thrusts, meeting you in perfect sync, your mutual moans filling the room as your flesh smacks together.
“Oh god, fuck me!” you holler, Manny taking his instruction and giving you every last inch in rapid thrusts, slowing suddenly, levering you off of him.
“On your hands and knees, carina. I wanna watch this gorgeous, round ass bounce while I pound that sweet pussy.” His words set a further blaze through you as you move into the position he requested, feeling him behind you, cock stroking your folds before he daggers into you again, doing exactly as he said he would and pounding the life out of you.
It’s gut rearranging, skin smacking, nerve tingling, all out carnal brutality, your cries rasping your throat as you grip the covers, his hands fixed in a hard clutch on your butt, kneading the cheeks as he pistons into you furiously. You can feel it again, the light from the edges of heaven warming you as he sends you closer and closer, your walls tightening on him as the swell of nirvana throbs through you, each clench milking him of his release as he grunts furiously, thick ropes of cum shot deep into your fluttering heat.
He continues to move slowly within you, breath hot at your back, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your spine. Your divorce left you feeling pretty much dead, but the handsome, relative stranger you picked up in that bar, well, he truly did make you feel alive again. He makes you feel alive another five times that night, too, and at your door the following morning, makes it very clear he keeps on intending to as well.
“I’ll call you later, when I’ve slept longer than two hours. Damned insatiable woman,” he chuckles, kissing you softly.
“Alright, and thanks for last night.” He knows from your tone that you don’t believe him, but later that evening, when you’re out with your friends, not waiting around for a call you don’t expect to come, your phone rings.
“Hey, so I’m looking for this gorgeous woman, yeah, I think she can help me with something.” Your smile widens in an instant.
“Oh yeah? Word is, she helped you with enough last night,” you reply playfully, waving your hand when your girlfriends begin squeaking. Of course, they received the 411 on it all. It made for some juicy pre-dinner drinks fodder.
“Well, yeah, this much is true,” he begins, grinning at the memory. “But I still didn’t get between her sexy, thick assed thighs quite as much as I wanted to.”
Four hours later, after a cab has dropped you to his place, that’s exactly where he returns.
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STAR RACER － ENHYPEN GREASE AU SERIES | PART 2 🚦
racer!enhypen & flaggirl!reader
PARTS: PROLOGUE, PART 1, PART 3 PART 4. coming soon...
TITLE: ST★R-RACER : PART 2. LOSING TIME
feat. ENHYPEN, TXT, STRAY KIDS?!
PLOT: in a small town during the 1950s, seems the only thing keeping careless teenagers entertained are drag races where only the elite participate. and those elite are known as star racers.
WARNINGS: coarse language, ooc idols, mention of death, light violence, sexual harassment, public humiliation, sleezy teenagers, manipulative personalities, slight angst, tba...
TAGLIST: @lalalalawon, @strvlveera comment your @/user to be added!
WORD-COUNT: 8.2k
NOTE: this part had no reason to be scrapped ten times. i apologise that half of this is just yeonjun being a dickhead 😭 but expect to see some new faces in this chapter and a little angst. would you like a playlist that fits each chapter because i'd be more than happy to make one. once again, there is writing in italic for defintions of 1950's slang. if it's distracting i can move it to a different section in every part. it's not proof read but eventually will be. i hope you enjoy !! likes, reposts and comments are all heavily appreciated, thank you.
you didn't see heeseung ever since the race for pinks.
no one did. it was like he vanished into thin air.
you couldn't sleep well at night, tossing and turning your head at the thought of something terrible that could've happened to him. or maybe the idea that he hated you so much he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.
you couldn't blame him if that was the case. after all, it was your foolishness that made him suffer.
“you cheater," you taut under your breath to yeonjun, arms weakly falling to your sides after letting go of sunghoon's hand. the male laying comfortably in his chariot continued to grin from one ear to the other, patiently sitting up from his laid position.
"try me," he gestured back quietly, quiet enough no one could hear the silent rebut between the two of you. the very words made you grimace, eyebrows sinking in dismay. he unlocked his front door, his dark leather derbies dusted with a thin coat of dust as he stepped out and the crowd parted ways for him. he made haste in trailing towards you and your body flinched at the incoming presence. your filthy heels began to step back, hesitation jittering your legs in uneasiness, "don't you back out of a bet now." he coaxed with his sweet voice, finishing it in a dreadful whisper. the light pushes the audience lashed against your back forcing you closer towards your impending doom.
"i'll clue you," you stubbornly responded through gritted teeth, darkened eyes narrowing and the intrigued boy halted in his shoes, "you've just ruined your career before it even started," your words made his questioning gaze lift and he was breathlessly chuckling at your remark, slender fingers combing through his gelled brunette locks in amusement. the flock of students murmured amongst themselves, pondering why you said such a claim.
definition:'i'll clue you'. > i'll give you a hint.
"like apple butter, ts'what i like about you the most," he shook his head side to side gently and you felt a flame lit under your cheeks in embarrassment at his unexpected reaction. his perfect teeth shone, smiling as he finished his brief laughing session and walked the final steps in your path. there was nowhere to turn as the crowd filed behind wherever yeonjun went and you lost count of the number of faces you didn't recognise.
"y/n!" sunghoon's low voice was drowned out by the noisy woos and cheers the opposition exclaimed and just as you spun around to track your friend, choi's heavy hand placed itself on your shoulder to prevent you from leaving.
your breath hitched in your throat when he tore off sunghoon's jacket around your shoulders and threw it behind him like it was a lousy pile of threads. the cruel gesture made you want to catch it before it could get soiled in the dirt and trampled on like some carpet but you couldn't. the sudden cold breeze against your once again bare skin indented with divots of goosebumps and you loathed the chain of catcalls that came with it.
"let's hit the road, we've got a long night ahead of us," he replaced sunghoon's jacket with his own and not even the foreign warmth of his could subdue the goosebumps on your skin. you couldn't imagine what dastard thoughts sunghoon was thinking of while he watched you get chauffered into yeonjun's car.
maybe he was fighting the crowd to get his jacket back instead. you wouldn't know because as soon as you sat on the leather-clad seats of your enemy's car, you never looked back. as a familiar bundle of voices shouted out your name, you were glad you didn't because you couldn't handle the humiliation of being taken so easily.
the transforming evening sky had swirled the orange hues out, now darkened in a rich mixture of navy blue and purple, white bright splatters painted across the view. the car ride was silent, the only form of sound leaking through yeonjun's overpriced aux. his concentrated fingers tapped to the beat of the song, the dark leather-encircled steering wheel sounding flat and dense each time he hit it.
you pondered thoughtlessly, at what could've happened when you left the race track. heeseung could've tried to drive again and skidded off the edge, crashing to his demise. or maybe jay was proclaiming more about your 'whoring' activities and planning some get-up with pitchforks and torches waiting for you at home; swearing it was just a prank to your angered mother if she ran outside with a broom and fussed.
a click of irritation rung in your mouth, tongue against your front teeth at such boorish daydreams you used to escape the current situation you laid in. yeonjun must've gotten sick of your non-responsive behaviour and you heard the radio turn down in an instant. "head in the clouds, cherry?" yeonjun provoked but you kept silent at his call, head turned the other way to watch the glowy streaks of passing lamp posts flash by.
his dusky eyes flickered up to his rearview mirror which had two plush dice hanging from it and they shot in the air at every speed bump yeonjun crossed over. he noticed the crossing of your arms against your chest and your distant demeanour, immediately switching targets back on the busy road ahead. "don't like my tunes?" he humoured while he gently pistioned his foot on the break, coming to a clean stop at a red light. he swiftly raised his hand and rested his forefingers on the car stereo only to use his index to press a clicky button a few times.
each radio station cut off by one another sounded like a rundown movie theatre and he finally stopped at the station playing a slow, sedative song. you had to admit, the change in tunes somehow lifted the heft to communicate in the air.
song recommendation: i fall in love too easily > chet baker.
he noticed your shoulders start to relax and he bit back a giddy smile at his successful efforts, "i don't like it when you're down in the dumps," yeonjun remarked, hoping for some chain reaction from you. he was startled to find your deep irises burn holes into him from the rearview mirror.
"well, i don't see myself out of this bust any time soon," you replied irritatingly, uneasy hands clasping at the thin fabric of your top. his sight followed where your hands went, silently tracing the curves of your body.
"why do you hate me, doll face," he nagged with a squint of his eyes. you scoffed like he'd said a terrible joke.
"you being funny? heeseung could've died because of you and you're wonderin' if i hate you or not?" you gawked and he broke sight of your, head turning to his side window.
"so it's 'cause i played around with one of your boy friends, you hate me?" he tried to simplify and you were vexed at his patronising statement.
"clear as mud. we will never get along. we're enemies," you retorted while watching the colony of cars in front of you pass by. your hands removed itself from around your sides and to the fabric of clothing around you, wrapping it around you tighter as a cold gust blew past. the boy watched you graciously, his pink lips parting at his next statement.
"really now? your refusal to look me in the eyes says otherwise," he responded while you immediately attempted to prove him wrong by returning the gaze. you noticed the week-old bruise on his face return to it's original colour than it's previous painful violet hue.
"that's because i hate you," you grumbled while leaning closely towards his eager face to exaggerate your point. he reciprocated bravely, face just inches from yours with half-lidded eyes and raised eyebrows.
"yeah? well you got a funny way of showin' it. comfortable in your jacket?" he chirped through his chuckle and your face blared in a hot mess. your hands clearly on his material to coat your bare chest. frantic, you dropped your hands to your sides and allowed the jacket to undo itself.
"you bash ears," you rasped in a fluster and reeled your head to look out your passenger's window like previously. yeonjun amusingly laughed once again just as the green light appeared and stepped on the gas with a sudden rekindled light in his head.
definition:'you bash ears'. > you talk too much.
you'd never been on this side of town a lot. this was choi yeonjun's gang's turf. turfs should never be overstepped by crews that didn't own them. clearly something yeonjun never found a problem with.
the loud scrape of a seat caused by yeonjun urged you to sit down, pulling out a chair as if he were some gentleman. he sidestepped as you sat down and seated himself on the blue chair opposite from you. he slid a talk menu towards you on the white porcelain dining table but you were too distracted by the change of scenery to notice.
everyone was in blazers, suits, preppy skirts and other heavy-duty threads. every person your age looked as though they had just finished their bachelor of arts degree and were now going into their final year of college. you hated that it was somewhat intimidating. and you hated that the only familiar outlet you had was the devil himself sitting across from you.
"on me, dolly," he calmly reminded while you hadn't even touched your menu yet. his solemn gaze changed direction from the menu, that covered half of his face, to your quiet self. you were still taking in the atmosphere, oblivious to his piercing gaze, "still dreaming?"
no reaction. that was all it took for him to see red. choi yeonjun shouldn't have expected you to be happy-go-lucky on your forced night out. but, the fact you didn't even stand up for yourself anymore made him act rationally. it was starting to bore him.
the light graze of one's fingernails ghosted against your knee and that immediately brought the attention yeonjun wanted back to him like a spotlight. you furrowed your brows at his sudden motion and used the arms folded on your lap to swipe him off.
"behave. this is our bet, remember?" he coldly questioned with eyes so wide and round it almost made your skin crawl at his terrifying duality. you bit your lip with a small nod and forced your back to lean, arms retracting with the action and yeonjun could comfortably trap your knee in his hands once more. somehow, you felt an overbearing aura radiate off the male as he sucked air through his teeth, pleased with your compliance.
of course. what all men were after at the end of the day. nothing but a touch of skin that defined one's sexual appeal. you'd be lying if you said this was the worst thing you envisioned yeonjun would be doing on your night out, but it didn't make it any less unsettling.
wishing the conversation at the red light had perhaps gone differently, you wouldn't see yourself in such a difficult situation. your eyebrows curled upwards while his fingers ran up your lower thigh next, soft butterfly-like touches during the motion.
just as you were about to grab his wrist to unhand you, the waitress had come to yeonjun's signal. his free hand dropped from the air and he began to order as if his hands weren't about to creep under your denim shorts. you gritted your teeth and when his stern watch laid back on you when asked what you'd order, you spoke with a precarious voice, "strawberry milkshake."
noting down the list of orders, the waitress skipped off and yeonjun gave a satisfied grin at your behaviour. what if the waitress could see what he was doing underneath the table? what if she knew but didn't care for the fact rowdy teens always acted out in places like this? you felt so helpless and alone, regardless whether there were people all over the joint and a collection of cars parked outside the window.
"stop," you whispered roughly, eyes peering down at the table to avoid eye contact. yeonjun didn't budge, wanting to elicit a longer response, "you've won. so let it go."
his eyebrows softened at your revelation but his hand didn't drop guard, "what if i don't?" he whispered back in the same frail tone as yours mockingly, leaning closer towards your face with a pout on his lips. you frowned at his attempt to rile you up and it started to make the gears in your head turn at his mannerisms.
"you wouldn't. you're not that kinda person," you pleaded with seethed teeth as you finally returned your longing gaze to his. his orbs traced yours while he stared back into yours so intimately, almost losing his mind at your doe eyes that had a sense of desperation laced into them.
the grip on your thigh loosened while he tried to appeal himself. "then what kinda guy d'you take me for?" he asked with eyebrows feathering lightly. you tread lightly, cautious with your next carefully crafted answer.
"a guy who only wanted to prove himself," you pieced together and yeonjun's hand had removed itself from your leg altogether. yeonjun was made out a fool because of your clique. it still bothered him more than he let out, but you saw right through him. he pressed a tongue against the insides of his mouth, gaze faltering when it flicked to the side away from you and you knew you'd won this time. he was satisfied with your rebuttal and let you off the hook.
"when i said you're the kinda girl a guy would bend the rules for, i meant it," he quoted with a returning gaze. and he did, in the worst way possible. a brutal reminder of what kind of stunt he pulled on heeseung just to get you on this date with him. surely, a calculated move to get your friends in a frenzy.
"unreal. lodging me to this hunk of junk, somewhere my friends can't find us on purpose, ain't that right?" you pressed on and he started to unravel something from his jeans pocket, immediately contaminating the sugary diner scent with brash tobacco.
he was smoking. just the last thing you wanted, "you want a five star restaurant next time?" he exhaled and blew the fog in your face as though you were nothing but a worthless smoking area sign, "need some?" he asked while your face grimaced at the smoke.
"there won't be a next time; neither do i smoke," your refusal had him smirking with the stick poking out of his lips, intrigued. he learnt more about you the more he spent time in your company and he enjoyed that, "you're afraid of them, aren't you?"
"your guard dogs? why would i be scared of a circus act like them," he cooed, annoyed at your remark to pin him as 'scared'. you furrowed an eyebrow at his nickname for your friends and you wanted to rip his pride apart.
"then what's the point in this little game of yours," you seethed out, head tilting in inquiry. he leaned his arm forward to tap ashes into the ashtray in the middle of the table, taking the brisk moment to think.
"can't a guy want to treat his girl to a night out?" he questioned with a receiving smirk placed on his face. you wanted to gag at the thought of being called 'his girl'. yeonjun was nothing but an annoying prickle in your side, one minuscule move and he would remind you of his presence.
"not your girl, choi. i'm your bait," your chest heaved regret, sighing when the circumstances examined from afar wasn't in your favour at all
"like a moth to the flame. i'd like to see the mugs on those frats when they realise they've been beat," he consoled with no remorse and you wanted to hit the pavement as soon as the argument was over. was it too late to take back your sincere comment on the kinda guy yeonjun was? because maybe that wasn't the case at all.
a brisk moment of stillness passed and the waitress returned to place your orders on the table. somehow, you'd lost your meek appetite. maybe it was the previous conversation or the waft of cigarettes lingering on your beverage that had this effect.
"do enjoy your strawberry milks, don't you?" he questioned while snuffing the bud in an ashtray off the side and dropping it on the tin. "you like to think of sucking it off my finger again?" it was like he was a different person when you finally saw through him and knew he no longer had to sugarcoat his words to win you over. because he already got what he wanted, your concise reaction to being nothing but a pawn in his cunning game of deliberate revenge.
his enquiry made your chest squeeze at his belittling comment, sick of being played like a fool, "i think you're a sicko," you began and just as he was about to place a fry between his teeth, you took off his jacket draped over your shoulders and slung it on the table, rattling the dishes and cutlery on impact. and just what you aimed for, the milkshake. the pink drink painted his top and jeans, most of all, his face with milk, "suck on that."
and at that, you hopped up from your seat and stormed towards the very same door you entered in, ignoring the attention of everyone lingering behind you. the male was awestruck for a moment and like a movie resuming, he became animated again when the ringing of bells chimed in the diner. you charged forward, dismissing the muffled yell of your name within the establishment behind and towards the end of the car park.
a surge of adrenaline taking over your body while your heels echoed off the hard asphalt ground, jogging as cool and calmly as you could before immediately regretting giving his jacket away because shit it was cold. your lack of layers didn't aid you at all and worst of all, your ride home was now gone.
but you didn't blame yourself one bit, choi yeonjun deserved it. to get you to such a vulnerable state and lift you just to tear you down right after was such a fucked up thing to do. it's moments like these you prayed that a miracle would happen. like sunghoon wasn't getting strangled by two guys the last time you saw him and came in with his sleek ride all fine and dandy.
you were stranded in the most unfamiliar part of town you knew and after gaining several blocks away from the diner, you gave up and sat on the curb like a vagabond. "you did it now, y/n," you monologued and sighed with your knees pressed against your chest. there was no way you'd find yourself home.
but anything was better than sitting in a diner with pouty lips constantly ringing in your ears and inquiring about you every passing minute. so your eyes closed with a profound sense of peace away from such a suffocating individual. then, your eyes never opened.
only did you regain consciousness with the loud beep of cars and flashing headlights on the road ahead of you. at the alarming rate, your arm was being towed away.
panicked, you yelled in fear and flailed your arms to break such a tight grasp. the unknown specimen veered around to you and it was none other but jay to your rescue. the bright headlights against the side of his face highlighted his strong features well. you relaxed at the sight and realised the loud commotion on the street was from his car parked in the middle of the road that he so smartly did upon seeing your figure sitting on the curb.
"you idiot," you beamed at him with furrowed eyebrows, too fatigued to say anything smarter when he gently lifted your arm over his neck so he could transport you easier, your tired heels dangling from the floor when he stood up straight. you didn't remember anything about the car ride back. you must've been too exhausted and too cold to interact. jay dropped you home and made sure to place his sweater over your body so your mother didn't fuss at the skimpy clothes you wore.
but along with that, he said something about heeseung going missing. that the only thing found was his drenched ride at the spot you and sunghoon last saw him. that was probably the last night you slept peacefully since the announcement, tired out of your mind to really register the severity of it all.
your morning was sluggish the next day, waking up to see jay's clothes around your body and your discarded necktie tied around your wrist wasn't what you were expecting. so as soon as you washed up, changed your clothes and kissed your ma bye, you were racing to jay's garage, lengthy skirt kicking high in the air with every stride your feet took.
reaching the destined location in town, you knocked on the rolling garage door of his father's enterprise and await a response. the door began to retract upwards and you were met with jay standing with his hand still on the revolving door switch. his brows were raised but his mouth was pouting in that one face he always made but it soon melted into a smile at the sight of you. the other five men in the garage mirrored his reaction and looked so happy to see you safe and sound.
if there was a way you could hug them all at once, you'd do it but the last time that happened you almost got sent to the e-r for air loss so you stood there with a fiddling bottom lip while collecting the right words to say, "fuck. i'm so sorry, you guys," you expectantly wailed with their bodies immediately swooping you in reassurance and forgiveness.
jay placed both his calloused hands on your shoulders and sat you down on a workbench with him and his nice masculine scent wafted to your senses with every breath you took, something you didn't realise you dearly missed. upon sitting down, you couldn't miss the sight of heeseung's tarnished car on standby in the centre of the garage. the atmosphere turned heavy and you realised that the situation was more serious than you first envisioned if it's got these rowdy boys quiet for the first time.
"no news on lee, i assume," you hesitantly brought up and you saw a few of the men shake their heads slowly. to see the vehicle that was always winning gold so empty and abandoned like landfill turned your stomach unpleasantly. jungwon was in his usual coveralls with his dirty white gloves, a singular rag in hand as he tried his best to clean the remnants of car oil amidst it.
"nothin'. checked his house, even used a phone booth to ring up his number and, stalemate," jake replied on behalf of everyone and it made your heart falter at the reality that he was really gone.
"those knob-heads don't know anything about it?" you asked while referring to yeonjun's fleet from the race who had encased him in this situation in the first place.
"we were splittin' their wigs and trust me, nun' of them know anything," jay plaused, shaking out his sore knuckles that were blooming with red swipes across them. you only assumed that soobin and his lackeys escaped by the skin if their teeth after sunghoon informed everyone else about their scheme.
definition:'split a wig'. > to beat up someone.
"i'm beat..." you were lost for words at the situation and the other boys expected this reaction. where did heeseung go? and why did he up and go without saying anything?
"y/n, i wanna clear the air between us," jay shifted in his position and brought your attention back to him, gripping the workbench beneath him as he leaned over a little to watch your expression.
"no sweat, i'm over it now," you claimed and held your eyebrows upwards in empathy, a small smile on your face but you couldn't really be happy. lee's absence was clearer than day of the despair hanging in the atmosphere. you knew the other guys thought the same way, jungwon probably missed doing car modifications on his sweet ride every weekend. modifications that didn't consist of cleaning splatters on the dash and windows that finished with heeseung's grateful praises. meanwhile jake probably missed the silly handshake they'd do every time they regrouped.
"no, i was so outta line. i'd never want you to think i saw you that way 'nd, really, it's none of my business what you do with yourself," he shyly apologised and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure if his words would do the trick. but he relaxed as a soft pad of one's fingers massaged his coarse knuckles like a painkiller.
"you already proved yourself when you found me on the curb last night. i dunno how you did it. oh, and, your sweater's in the wash," you forgave his prideless apology and the corner of his lips tugged into a half smile.
"my jay-p-s went off, that's how," he kidded and abruptly yelled out in agony when you pressed down on his bruising knuckles as revenge. no one laughed at his joke but a few cracked up at his gruelling reaction in return.
"he'll be here all night, folks!" jungwon added onto the effect and you giggled lightly at the returning mannerisms of some of the guys.
"no but, how did you?" you inquired once again and he looked guilty for a split second, innocently peeking up at his ceiling as though he'd gotten a new paint job on it.
"you kiddin' me? obviously, if choi had you in his ride, i was hauling ass behind him," he admitted and you raised an eyebrow with an intrigued smile.
definition:'haul ass'. > driving fast.
"you didn't see anything, did you?" you questioned with a concerned raise of your eyebrow. jay shook his head, holding onto his elbow with one hand while the free one was against his lips as he grazed his mouth on his nails in hesitation.
"hey... choi didn't, y'know, do anything to ya?" jay reluctantly asked and scanned your sitting pose from top to bottom in worry. immediately the skin ripping feeling of his hand all over your thigh flashed back like a nightmare and a dry lump in your throat swallowed. you'd almost forgotten all about the night out with yeonjun and the confusing, hurtful things he did to you.
jay noticed your demeanour and his doubtful body language stiffened at the idea of yeonjun putting you through hell with his absence allowing it to happen. your shifting gazes settled back on his angered face and you instantly reassured him, "no. choi isn't the freamer you think he is." jay sat up straighter and shook his head disapprovingly.
"hard to believe when you're quizzing me if i seen anything or not," he retaliated afterwards and you grew quiet at that again. in your eyes, yeonjun wasn't a half-bad guy. anyone else who had you alone and afraid in a part of town you'd been in before would've taken advantage of such a vulnerable state.
yet, yeonjun only played mind games with you and succeeded in breaking through you. but when it came to the deed he did to heeseung, that was a whole different story.
the warm hold of someone's long arms wrapped around your waist pulled you out of your destructive thoughts and when you slowly peered up to see the person in action, you weren't expecting riki. he leaned all his weight atop of you and gradually slid down your shirt to your long, comforting skirt which he laid his head against, "i was a lump of coal without you, y/n," he admitted and you smiled a little at his sincerity. his dark hair pressed against your comfortable lap made his eyes flutter closed, taking in your familiar scent like some house cat.
"we all were," jake added and you scanned the entire room and the sweet faces of your friends looking back longingly. of course, the only other place you'd rather be. the company of such friends within this diesel-scented garage, circus-act or not.
"sorry, i couldn't stop 'em from dragging you away. the crowds were flippin'," sunghoon apologised, the guilt most likely eating him alive when he never saw you again that night.
"i just hope you got your jacket back," you cited and his sharp fangs grinned at that giddy remark.
"i did," he answered back and you sighed in relief. it was a pretty nifty jacket at that. jungwon clapped his hands and sought the attention of everyone back to him.
"let's beat feet, i'm craving a double-decker burger," jungwon abruptly suggested, hopping up to his feet and wiping his forearm against his forehead. the proposal resulted in a tide of encouragement echoing against the garage walls, and a stroke of oil above jungwon's eyebrows.
definition:'beat feet'. > depart quickly.
"you're what?!" everyone yelled in unison, knives and forks hitting their porcelain dishes loudly and earning all attention from everyone else dining in the establishment.
"i'm dropping outta school, that's the buzz," sunoo parroted and your eyes widened at the reveal. he clicked his tongue and leaned over the counter to reach for a fry within jay's plate to eat, despite being the very worker who delivered it to him, "my old folks were frosted when i told them i lost a hundred and ten bucks. so now i gotta work it back."
definition:'frosted'. > angry.
"you kiddin'? why would you admit that?" jake asked with his mouth ajar in total skepticism. sunoo stuck his chin out and waved his head side to side, exaggerating his hissy remark simultaneously.
"well, what do you think i tried first? they didn't believe my tale about the papers blowing away in the wind because apparently i never go outside," outraged, most likely at his parent's assumption, sunoo rolled his eyes arrogantly at such inferences. jake held himself back from beratting the boy in uniform while jay laughed out loud with a mouthful of fries.
"cash blowing away? what kinda excuse is that you dud!" jay meanly teased and sunoo was about to lose his cool behind the counter.
"hey, you try and come up with an excuse on the spot. it's harder than you think," he argued while wiping his salt-coated fingertips on his clean apron.
"surely you would've thought of one the moment you betted fifty-five fuckin' dollars," sunghoon's input immediately shut down sunoo's rebuttal.
"okay? who could've seen heeseung hyung losing by getting drowned in oil happening?" his insensitive wording made the group run quiet as if a noisy stream of a faucet was abruptly turned off. the awkward tension made sunoo regret his sentence, "no one. exactly."
"cool it," jay snapped, unhappy with the other boy's decision to bring up such a topic with no remorse. sunoo recoiled his arms that were resting atop the counter and looked taken aback by the crushed chattery atmosphere.
"kay. just so you know not to look for me if i'm not in math on monday," sunoo concluded while refusing to look at anyone's eyes. the lack of responses just made your head nod in return and take a sip of your cold cola, the loud straw only adding to the awkwardness.
riki splayed his arms out on the counter, limbs long enough to overhang off the edge whilst in the motion and he groaned into the hard surface, "we're at a low," he confessed, only saying what everyone else had on their mind. the diner bells rang and the just arriving customers whispered amongst themselves, some a little too loud. loud enough for you to pick up that they were talking about your group and the failure of yesterday's race.
the instance brought a question up, "who's interested in takin' star racer?" jay's voice asked around and an alarming amount of responses returned. no one. no one made a sliver of sound.
"why not you again, hyung? people would pin you," riki suggested and jay had to think about it.
"jungwon?" jay turned to his friend who was too invested in his awaited burger to prep himself. his eyebrows furrowed while he swallowed down his previous bite.
"c'mon. i like to fix cars, not drive 'em," he responded and jay made a scoffing sound with his mouth.
"same thing," he responded with eyes scanning the ceiling as he jostled the ideas in his head to try and find a connection between the two himself, clearly just spewing out answers without thought.
"no, they really aren't," jungwon wrapped up and jay gave up his pestering. instead, he turned towards sunghoon who shrugged his shoulders in return.
jake, his next victim held his hand out flat and tilted it side to side, motioning there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd go for it, "dunno. something just ain't right taking hyung's spot like that," he fessed and sunghoon agreed.
"sunoo," you playfully recommended and the male in question shot you a look of fright. the other boys started cooing his name and pulling at his uniform mockingly.
"i don't have the time for those games. i'm a working man," he replied instantly, swiping the bickering male's hands off his uniform and readjusting his hat to sit on his hair properly. but his refusal fell on deaf ears because the following day, sunoo was strapped in jay's car with his hands on the wheel and an exasperated expression glued on his face.
"hey! seriously?!" he shouted in retaliation while his wide hazel eyes were scanning the view in front of him. right in the middle of the dried-up dam, you and the other men stood in a group aside from sunoo bursting out the seams at his predicament.
"sunoo, whatever you do, don't press on the right pedal," jay shone a quick smile and banged the dash of his vehicle loudly before skipping away while sunoo scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. might this be a reminder that sunoo had never driven a car before.
"don't what?!" he yelled while cluelessly stepping on the said pedal, making the car suddenly veer forward and stop with a violent recoil, sending the boy's nose into the steering wheel. his high-pitched scream was enough to make your gut clutch tighter in laughter. you hadn't laughed like this in what seemed like centuries ago.
"thank god you y'got that safety belt on! otherwise, you would be flying, candy ass!" sunghoon called out and the brashness of his words made sunoo freak out more than he already was.
you needed moments like these. you didn't know how you could've made it through such a lonesome week without your friends. the routine would repeat, go to school, meet up at jay's garage to help wipe down heeseung's abandoned chariot, and try your best to sleep. it was hard but you didn't think anyone else had it harder than jungwon though. his connection with the car was deeper than you ever could comprehend and he always stayed longer with it than everyone else, pleading to jay's dad to let him stay after hours.
you wished your little group could stay close like this forever. but it didn't. instead, it was slowly tearing apart.
jay was crowned star racer again. not much of a surprise to you. the only thing surprising you were the come-and-go of the title when he, jake and sunghoon lost the upcoming weekend.
and so the week after was all the same. jay's pride was damaged, harder than it ever had been before. so much that he pulled out of racing for a bit to 'work things out'. you had your suspicions to what that could indicate but if jay suddenly came back and announced he had to leave as well to go on some holiday, you think you'd tear your hair out.
"i have to leave to go on some holiday," his statement made jungwon drop the tool he had in his hand, colliding on the hard cement with a loud thwack.
"you goof, tell me this is a bit," you begged while staring at jay who entered through the mesh door of the garage that connected to the main facility of his establishment.
"s'not a bit. i just got off the ear with my old man," he implored while running his hand through his black straight hair. your group was splitting and this was the turning point where you realised it. your hands bunched up the fabric of your light sundress, head slowly dropping to the ground in dismay.
"ey, cheer up, keeper. i'll be back before y'know it," he softly comforted while noticing your disappointed facade. you lifted your head and returned your gaze to the boy with upturned eyebrows.
definition:'keeper'. > a close friend.
"you'd better, or expect a bad review on your dad's dashboard," you tried to joke but it still bothered you that the missing numbers in your group were increasing.
that left three eligible racers to turn the tides on the fractured track record of your school's wins. sunghoon, jake and riki. your familiar tall friend's blonde hair waved in the passing breeze, sunglasses propped on his hair almost covered by his gold tufts.
he was chewing something like gum in his mouth, tilting his side mirror to face him for a split second to view himself. satisfied, he returned it back to it's previous placement and returned his focus to the drag strip in front of him.
"who's that stud? i've never seen him before," people's gossip travelled to your ears while you stood at the sidelines, watching as the flag girl from the other school was preparing herself for the race. "that's nishimura."
"nishimura riki? i thought he stopped racin' for good," the whispers continued mindlessly and a lightbulb in your head turned on as you remembered exactly what they were talking about.
a couple of months back, the fuzz was called on the scene in the middle of a race when riki was in it. why? because his car wasn't even his car. it was stolen.
definition:'fuzz'. > the police.
when the police arrived, everyone had to run out of the scene to not get caught. the police went ape at the illegal races. he was caught and pulled the age card, blaming it on peer pressure which was total bullshit. he knew what he did, sneaking into his neighbour's car, god knows how he did it, and successfully copping the vehicle into the drag strip. to you, it was funny as hell watching riki get chased down by the fuzz while screaming like a girl.
but to the other students from both your and the opposition's school, this gave riki a bad rep. nobody liked having their parents called and getting scolded for going to unsolicited grounds where adolescents were gambling, smoking and passing booze around. since then, riki never got admitted to another race again.
till today, that is.
today's opposition was a tough crew. in your eyes, they were nothing but a group of stray kids that had tires for brains.
"hwang hyunjin, that sly dog," sunghoon cussed under his breath, right beside you with his hands in his signature jacket's pockets and a cigarette in his mouth. you craned your head upwards to look at him curiously only to find him distracted, head turned forward to stare at the crowd. no, not the crowd but the boy in front of it to be exact. radiant red hair highlighted by a nearby lamp post made a boy seem unreal from the mob behind him. his appearance made him look like he starred in a hollywood movie and you were all just side characters.
"i hope you're not getting a case of the zorro's, star racer," you teased while your arms crossed over your chest and you watched one of his cheeks lift while he smiled at the title.
"i'm not. i've just faced off with him before and he's no joke. as alarmin' as that mop on his head," he insulted and a chuckle poured out of your lips in response. hyunjin was talking to the boy in the vehicle beside riki's, someone you'd never seen before.
"who's that new rug rat?" you questioned, referring to the individual you didn't recognise and his youthful appearance. sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows while blowing smoke between his lips, trying to see the boy in the distance.
defintion:'rug rat'. > small children.
"that tag-along is always with their crew," he answered, a weird answer to your ears at that. the newbie's head faced forward again and while he smiled, something against his teeth shone. the boy had braces. his boyish appearance quelled you in confusion.
"does no one know who he is?" you asked sunghoon again, hoping he'd somehow know as he affiliated with racers more than you did. an unknown deep voice from behind you chimed in instead, sending shivers down your spine at the abrupt interference.
"yang jeongin," the figure crept into your view and you were met with dark irises staring down at yours and light specks of what looked like freckles on his nose left you were puzzled if such a rash voice belonged to a boy with such soft features.
"felix," sunghoon spoke and the male with ashy-dyed locks grinned at him, "steady off our turf, mind you," your friend lowly warned and the boy held his hands up while taking a minuscule step backwards onto the edge of the drag strip.
"easy, i don't bite," he playfully cooed while dropping his hands to his side and settling them inside his back pockets. you observed him, top to bottom and wow. he was a sight. ash-coloured hair almost as silver as sunghoon's except it was styled in a mullet, the back of his hair spiking past his neck. his brown eyes clocked down into yours for a second, taking in your appearance just the same, "hey chickababe."
definition:'chickababe'. > an attractive girl.
sunghoon's arm ghosted against yours while you replied to the boy in front of you, "hey, freckles," you smiled and his head playfully tilted to the side at your nickname for him, "i'm sorry to tell you that yang's going down."
his eyebrow raised at your revelation, "ey, ice it. he might hear you." his head turned behind him for a brief moment while the nonchalant response startled you, was he really downplaying his mate? noticing the surprise in your raising expression, he chuckled, "just kidding. tell rick' my condolences for his loss."
the competitiveness aura in the air intensified, his insult towards your friend ringing in your ears, "his name's riki. you not around here, are you?" you doubted with squinted eyes still focused on the male, clearly trying to rile the stranger up at his tedious claims. riki was actually good at racing, just always outshined by the older boys to have a chance.
"matter of fact, i'm not," he proved you wrong proudly and you weren't entirely shocked at his response. you could hear it in his voice, a foreign accent lacing his words altogether, "born in australia."
"really? how are things down under?" you questioned, intrigued by the new acquaintance.
definition:'down under'. > nickname for australia.
"swell. you want'ta ask my number next?" he teased and you arrogantly rolled your eyes at his complacent flirting. sunghoon subtly snaked his arm around your waist and you acknowledged his advances with a lift of your head towards his.
"watch it, y/n breaks hearts," sunghoon mused and you scoffed at his antagonising banter. leaning closer towards the male around you, you picked the cigarette in his mouth and held it in front of him meanly, toes digging into the dirt when you shifted your weight onto them just to reach.
"quit the propaganda," you complained in annoyance. the taller male just leaned down to your hand placed in the air and bit on the cold end of the bud, soft lips against your stern fingers daringly to take it back.
"sorry, sweetheart," he requited and the words were pleasing to your ear. felix shifted his foot, noisy pebbles scratching against his converses breaking your attention from sunghoon and back to him in an instant.
"y/n, that's your name," he echoed, his attractive accent glazing your name in a way only your heart understood at the tug it resulted in. your encounter with the male was interrupted abruptly when the cold gust of wind against your backside made you flinch and look back to find your skirt mid-air, just held up by the hands of another unfamiliar face.
you gasped in shock, turning around in an instant whilst flattening the flying fabric to lay back against you. the brash male caught red-handed only laughed, head thrown back and his palms pressed against his abdomen while his long legs strode right past you and next to felix. someone who you'd hope is just as concerned except he was laughing with the perpetrator. your face burned like an open fire, embarrassed at such a trick being pulled on you.
sunghoon tossed his cigarette into the dirt, stepping on it as he drove forward to grapple onto the dirtbag's shirt, "you'd better crawl right back in that ditch y'came from before i lay you dead on the track," sunghoon lashed out, the boy pausing his laughing session and glaring right back at him with a sinking head.
"jesus, don't have a cow, i was just playin'," the stranger complained and you could hear a similar accent in his voice as felix's. sunghoon, with clenched teeth, released the other boy's collar with a harsh recoil of his fists when he stepped back.
"apologise," he ordered, half pissed at the guy and most definitely at the scrapped cigarette he had to put out. the curly black-haired boy just glanced at felix, a weirded-out smile placed on his face.
"she your missus or something?" he ogled while looking at you when you deliberately turned away. sunghoon fought back everything inside him to not toss the unfamiliar presence in front of riki's car to get him ran over in return for his prowling statements.
"doesn't change the fact your hard-on's making you act out in front of a girl," your friend retaliated, resulting in the other specimen faking a laugh, sneaking a glance at his black jeans meanwhile. you peered up at sunghoon and saw him biting back a mean smile which made you want to burst out laughing at him noticing the discreet peek the stranger did as well.
"apologise, chan hyung," felix nagged, clearly receiving second-hand embarrassment for his friend. the boy now known as chan nodded his head and swiped his nose with his thumb briefly, also slightly embarrassed.
"yeah, my bad, my bad," he replied repeatedly and you finally looked up at him. strong bone structure and thick eyebrows that did a terrible job at hiding his emotions was your first thought when his eyebrows cocked downwards upon your gaze.
"you owe my friend a smoke," you retorted, referring to the very man beside you who looked pleased with your answer. chan scattered his hands along his body robotically, nothing rustling or sounding like a packet even when he smacked his pockets.
"sorry to disappoint but i don't carry any on me," he shook his head while steering his sight to sunghoon next. you furrowed your brows and looked to felix instead who shook his head to signal neither did he. "he does." a thumb shot behind chan's shoulder and pointed towards the cherry head on the other side of the track.
"him? he your star?" you questioned and instead of earning an immediate yes, chan shot you a weird look with an engrossed expression. your sight flickered between hyunjin and him, confused.
"what'dya talking about? you're looking at him," felix intercepted while placing his hand on his chest, peering at you as if you'd just killed his whole family in front of him. your mouth was wide, not sure how to reply at the sudden surprise. screams of the viewers sounded and the race catapulted in the next passing seconds. you couldn't comprehend anything, except the equally surprised utterance on sunghoon's face.
#1950s#enhypen fanfic#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung#kim sunoo#park jay#park sunghoon#sim jake#yang jungwon#niki nishimura#enhypen#fanfiction#grease au#racer au#vintage#teenagers#txt#yeonjun#stray kids#felix#bangchan#hyunjin#heeseung#jay#sunghoon#kpop#enhypen ot7#enhypen series#enhypen imagines
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Angel Baby
summary: sub!shawn gets railed senseless by dom!reader
trigger warnings: smut, degradation, mean stuff that probably isn’t written well, and only a tiny bit of aftercare. mommy kink, oral, handjob, cum, and more. this is definitely darker and spicier than anything else i have written, but i hope at least some people enjoy it. this isn’t proofread because i don’t think i can handle rereading it. bottom line: grammar mistakes guaranteed.
word count: 2.2k of plotless smut
‘
Shawn held a pillow tightly between his legs, his thighs tiring out from the strain. His hips bucked against it as he tried to get himself off discreetly. His lips roamed tentatively around your neck, uncertain of how much you would let him do to you.
He was horny, desperate for any taste of you that he could get. His cock was pulsing and he bit his lip to stifle a moan, stimulated by the friction and heat the pillow was providing for him. He was imagining you; everything he loved about you.
He was imagining how tight you were and how you squeezed his cock when he pushed it into you, arousal dripping all around him. He was remembering how good it felt to have you cum on him, your walls fluttering against his erect length as the warmth washed over him, pulling him along to euphoria. His fingers were tightening around the seam of the pillowcase as he visualized his fingernails digging into your hips as he gritted his teeth together and groaned in pleasure.
He was down hard, desperately needing to be rescued.
Biting his lip, he tried not to rock the bed as he relieved himself, but the look on his face was a dead giveaway. His eyebrows were furrowed, and there was a thin layer of sweat on his brow. He was breathing heavily and clearly holding in his sweet moans.
It was delicious to see him in that state. He was ready for anything that you did to him, whether it was gentle and affectionate or something wild and kinky. He was hungry for anything that would make him feel good, you in particular.
“Shawnie,” you said in a commanding voice as his tongue moved repeatedly against the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. “Poor neglected baby, do you need some attention?”
“Y-yes,” he stuttered breathlessly, jaw falling slack as he took you in. “I need you.”
“Looks like you’re doing just fine with that pillow,” you said bluntly. “Does it feel good?”
He nodded, his eyes widening in regret once he realized what he’d said. “But I want you more.”
“What do you want me to do to you?”
“F-fuck me,” he gulped, pulling the pillow closer to his chest for comfort. “You always make me feel so good,” he added, in hopes of you going easier on him. After all, it was evident that he didn’t need very much.
“You want me to fuck you?”
Shawn whimpered, the sound coming from the top of his throat. “Y-yes, mama,” he said hurriedly. “Please, I need you so bad.”
You used the tip of your index finger to trace small lines on his hard tip, which was standing up prominently, even inside of his briefs and sweatpants.
His head fell back limply as a moan clawed its way out of his throat.
You smirked and cocked your head to the side. “I don’t know if you can handle me tonight,” you pointed out. “So easy, so hard for me.”
He let out a sound like a kitten mewing as he rubbed himself against your hand, creating his own friction. He was still thinking about your hips, your ass, your pussy, your moans. Every horny thought possible was racing through his mind, doing nothing to relieve the blood that was coursing to his hard shaft.
You put your fingers into his innermost waistband, his briefs, and pulled them down. His sweatpants came down with them, allowing his dick to slap up against his abs, tiny droplets of precum leaking from his tip.
You stared in awe for a moment before recovering, assuming your dominant role before Shawn realized you’d lost it.
His eyes were shut, eyelashes resting gently on his precious cheeks. “Thank you, mama,” he breathed.
“Don’t thank me just yet, puppy,” you said in a condescending tone. “You’ve got to agree to a few things first.”
Shawn let out a whine as he squirmed against your hand, which was now wrapped around his hardened shaft, your thumb tracing circles on its head, picking up the little drops of arousal that spilled from it.
He was ready to agree to anything, as long as it would result in him coming inside of you.
“You can’t cum until I say so, alright?” You stared directly into his eyes, watching as the beautiful lust-swelled orbs fell down to his lap nervously.
“Alright?” you repeated. “I need your words and your eyes, please.”
“Yes, mama,” he repeated, making shy eye contact. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”
This was all the approval you needed. You moved your closed hand up and down his shaft, stimulating the sensation of thrusting in and out of something.
Shawn sighed as a soft groan fell from his lips, only to have your fingers pressed against his lips. The friction he was getting moments earlier had vanished.
“Save those noises for later,” you instructed. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Fuck me, mommy, please,” he begged, desperate to the point of tears. “I’ll be such a good boy. I want to cum in you, and I want to feel you cum on me…”
He could feel her stare penetrating him, he didn’t dare look up.
“I want to give you a baby,” he admitted, a red blush spreading over his cheeks and forehead.
“Oh, puppy,” she said severely, “what are those dirty thoughts doing in that pretty little mind of yours? Angels don’t think like that.”
“I’ll be such a good boy.”
“Good boys don’t talk like that.”
Shawn was near tears. He was so hard that it was painful. “I’m sorry, mama,” he choked. “I’ll be a good boy.”
“Gonna put a baby in me?” you mimicked. “And be a good boy at the same time?”
Shawn watched you carefully as you rolled over, and as soon as your legs were in the right position, he took the opportunity to push his hard cock into you.
You gasped at the force, exhaling sharply as you looked at his angelic face.
“Did I give you permission?”
Shawn lowered his head and whimpered, but never drew his cock from you. Just being inside of you made his hard state feel more bearable.
“I said, did I give you permission?”
“No, mama,” he answered, his eyes never meeting hers. “But I need you so bad.”
The catch in his voice is what convinced you to let him slide in and out of you a few times.
“Poor, needy baby,” you sighed. “You’re so horny, you can’t even thrust right.”
He looked at you with wondering eyes before he was thrown back against the cool white sheets with a force that made the bed bounce.
His cock slapped against his abs again, more precum oozing from its tip.
You had to admire him for a moment and take in how pretty he was with his honey-colored eyes, messy curls, and rock-solid dick. As soon as that moment was over, though, you began to ride him, pushing yourself onto his cock until it couldn’t go in any further. You did this repeatedly, never stopping.
Shawn was panting beneath you, struggling to buck his hips for added friction.
You let out a low growl as you felt a warm feeling swell deep within you. It would only be a matter of time until Shawn was cumming, so you had to make the most of it.
“Fuck,” he whined, trying to move away from you and escape the friction, but he had no such luck. “Fuck, baby, I need to cum.”
You ignored his words and continued bouncing up and down on his cock.
His thighs were shaking, his abs were tight, and a layer of sweat was spread all over him. A pool of arousal was accumulating where you were riding him, and it was dripping messily down his sides.
He loved looking at you while you rode him. Your face was so concentrated and experienced, yet free and youthful, and your tits bounced with you. Your hair was free and wild, and your pussy was tight around him, just the way he liked.
Your words were cutting him deeply tonight, but in all honesty, he found that incredibly sexy. He was a kinky fucker in general, turned on by the most pecular things, but degredation made him feel more aroused than anything else.
You were taking your dom role too especially serious tonight, never letting him squirm away from you. His received constant insults from you, which just made the burning sensation inside him grow. The more he struggled and squirmed beneath you, the more insults you’d hurl at him.
You were uncomfortably sweaty, unsure of how long you could continue your tantalizing speed, but you pushed on, driven by the look on your angel baby’s face.
He looked like he was in a lot of pain, but too afraid to show weakness. In your opinion, that was incredibly hot of him, and he deserved everything he felt.
“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his hips rocking shakily against yours, bruises covering them where he had made hard, repetitive contact with you. He could no longer hold it in, but you had one present left to give him.
“Hold it,” you commanded, voice ragged and hoarse from overuse. “I better not see a drop come out of you until I say so.”
Shawn bit his lip and held the feeling in obediently, trying to count how many times his heart beat during ten-second increments. He couldn’t. It was beating faster than a hummingbird flapped its wings.
Moving to lie beside him rather than on top, you rolled him over, just enough that his entire ass was showing. You took it in for a moment before reeling your hand back and slapping it against his pretty, firm cheeks. This action was repeated twice more, until you were satisfied by the handprint that was left behind.
A moan left his mouth after every sickening slap, the last one resembling a scream more, warning of his orgasm.
The sound threatened to make you cum on the spot, and your walls fluttered as a forewarning.
“Please,” he breathed hoarsely, his eyebrows furrowed in desperation, rewarded by a brusque, “not yet,” from you.
You took his shaft in your hand and kneaded it while you watched the pain on his face evolve into something terrible.
“Cum, baby,” you instructed breathlessly, and he wasted no time. He filled you with his creamy cum within seconds, and everything else spilled out of you and pooled on the sheets, creating slick seascapes with the wrinkles.
“A-aren’t you gonna cum, mommy?” he stuttered, voice husky and exhausted. “Didn’t I make you feel good?”
You stared at him for a long moment before he started moving. He squirmed further and further down the bed, stopping when his head was at the same level as your pussy.
He took it into his mouth, licking the arousal from your enterance before poking his tongue up to taste what was going on inside.
“Naughty boy,” you taunted, unable to think of anything meaner to say. “Angels don’t participate in such dirty acts.”
Unmoved by your words, he sucked your clit into his mouth and swirled his tongue tantalizingly against it.
You could feel his teeth brushing on it, and the feeling was unbearable. A hefty moan warned him that you were about to cum, so he positioned his mouth so he could take all of it in. That was a hard job. It just kept coming, but he had tasked himself with consuming all of it, and he wasn’t about to give up.
It tasted so good to him, and it was so warm and silky going down his throat. He nearly fell asleep from relief and fatigue, but he stayed awake, needing to swallow often so as not to choke.
He deserved all of the pain for all of the times he’d edged you or lied to you, and he deserved all of the euphoria for the joy, love and orgasms he brought to your life. The kinky sex between the two of you was a double edged sword. It was often rough and harsh, causing the submissive one to scream or cry in pain, but it always ended in snuggles and endless hours of “I love yous,” repeated into the early hours of the morning.
“Open your eyes,” a gentle, caring voice broke through his thoughts.
He opened his eyes sleepily to see you standing over him, placing a cool, damp washcloth on his sweaty forehead. His eyes squeezed shut again to squeeze out a chain of hot, stinging tears.
“You made me feel so good,” you breathed as you snuggled closer to him, placing another washcloth on the back of his neck. “You’re such an angel.”
A soft smile danced on his lips momentarily, but he was unable to keep his eyes open. He fell asleep without saying a word, and all that was left for you to do was admire him.
His cheeks were rosy, and his lips were swollen, his head was heavy, and his eyes were tired. He was warm everywhere, a magnet for you.
You rested your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes, too, willing sleep to take you away. Clean up could wait. After all, the morning seemed to loom far away.
Taglist: @chocochipcookie305 @pamelagramm @fishingirl12 @monikamendes @butlerbliss
#Shawn mendes#Shawn mendes smut#Shawn mendes angst#Shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes x reader#sub!shawn#sub!shawn smut#dom!reader#mommy kink#degradation kink#this is the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written#flutterfly alley#yellow 💛 heart
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Carlos and the (...) No Good, Very Bad Day • [AO3]
Teen | 4K+ | Carlos-centric | Crack/Humor, Magical Accidents
A/N: Chapter three! Again, this can be read as gen or shippy idc. <3
CW: Some dark humour, swearing, and an unresolved argument.
Chapter Three: Running On Empty
Betrayal is an ugly thing, no matter how it may manifest.
For Carlos, betrayal comes in the form of Evie deftly unclipping her purse strap and securing it to his makeshift collar. He’s vocal how he feels about this—going so far as to throw his head back and howl to drown her voice out. He is very uninterested in what she has to say about murder and how “even a puppy” doesn’t stand a chance against a jury. She’s only saying that because it’s Mal…
If it were anyone else, she would at least let him maul them.
What a double standard.
He huffs and collapses dramatically in the grass, exhausted from struggling against the stupid collar, and the stupid leash, and…
He’s just exhausted. And hungry, too.
“Okay, well, now that that’s over…” Mal says awkwardly, stepping from the tree line where she’d stopped to wait while Carlos threw his “tantrum” (Evie’s words, definitely not what happened)—
Carlos bares his teeth at her, but doesn’t lift his head.
“What’s all that?” asks Jay, trying to cut through the tension. He gestures to the bag Mal has slung over her shoulder—a beat-up purple messenger bag which looks full to bursting. “Hope it’s a picnic,” he adds, half-joking as he rubs his belly. “I’m starving.”
Carlos’ stomach rumbles audibly, as if in agreement, and Jay throws him a grin. “You too, ‘Los? Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find you—”
“Jay,” Evie sharply interjects, eyebrows raised in warning.
“…something you’ll like?” Jay finishes sheepishly.
Mal drops her bag on the grass a little ways in front of Carlos before taking position behind it. “No food,” she tells Jay simply, “unless, of course, you haven’t lost your taste for… lizard legs.” She smirks at his expression, leaning over to give him a shove. “Oh, come onnn… don’t go all ‘Auradon’ on me now, Jay. You’re breaking my heart.”
She laughs, and Jay laughs, and Evie clears her throat.
“Right, sorry,” says Mal with a flush to her cheeks. “I brought all the stuff—to change Carlos back, I mean. There’s just, um, one thing…”
Carlos starts to growl, but Evie shushes him, stroking his back.
“Look, it’s not a big deal, it’s just… the spell calls for moonlight.”
Carlos lets out a bark as he gets to his feet, staring pointedly at Mal, who raises her hands in surrender and quickly responds, “Okay, so it kind of is a big deal!” Carlos barks again. “Evil, of course I’m—”
Carlos throws his head back and starts to howl again, causing Jay to wince and throw a glance at Mal. “That’s some real Disney princess shit,” he comments dryly. “Seriously though, since when can you talk to animals?”
Rolling her eyes, Mal starts to brush him off, but Evie interjects—
“He has a point,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”
“I don’t know—since today?” Mal replies, a little exasperated. She averts her eyes, focusing on the meadow grass as she plucks a little yellow wildflower and starts to roll it between her thumb and index finger. “Anyway,” she mutters, “it’s not all animals… just Carlos.”
He growls menacingly at her, but she ignores him.
Even Evie doesn’t so much as give his leash a little tug before she’s answering thoughtfully, “It must be some kind of magical bond…”
Carlos barks a laugh—and a little more than that—which he’s sure Mal catches, much as she continues to ignore him. “I guess,” is all she says to Evie, flicking the thoroughly crushed flower in Jay’s direction before plucking another to destroy in the same way.
It’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of the birds and the breeze through the trees, the grasses whispering, a distant airplane—
“So…” Jay breaks the silence, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. “We’re gonna sit around out here all day, or what?” He shrugs.
That starts Carlos barking again, yelling what only Mal can hear.
“I know!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up. “I said I was sorry! Yes, I did—I totally did, fucker, you just didn’t hear me,” she presses on, raising her voice to be heard over Carlos’ crescendo. “Oh, please, I did not plan this…” She pauses to listen, but she’s glowering. “No, of course you would think that, of course, but if you would just—no, you shut up—DE VIL, DAMN IT, I AM TRYING TO FUCKING—”
Carlos lunges, snapping his teeth—and he gets close, so close to biting down on Mal’s hand, having slowly lured her in over the course of their little argument—
He gets close, so close, but Evie betrays him—for a second time.
She yanks back on his leash with a reprimand of, “Carlos!”
Whipping around, he bites down on the leash and gives it a firm tug, right out of Evie’s grasp. He shoots her a dark look before he takes off running, leash held in his jaws. She’s going to need a new purse strap, because he’s not coming back, and as soon as he’s clear, he’s chewing through this stupid leather and leaving it out to rot—
Jay’s voice calls out behind him, yelling for him to, “Stop! Come back!” He’s crashing through the underbrush, dodging trees and leaping over logs—but no matter how fast or how determined…
He’s never catching Carlos.
Little legs be damned.
Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. And feel free tosubscribe on AO3 if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out. Kudos and comments are lovely, as well! ♥
#descendants#carlos de vil#descendants fanfiction#my fanfiction#my writing#core four#rotten OT4#puppy!Carlos AU#descendants fandom#almost forgot to post chap 3 here#chapter 4 is in the works <3
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