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absurdthirst · 2 days

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Greased Lightning {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Santiago Garcia}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 13.1k

Warnings: Financial difficulties, technical prostitution, sex for services, propositioning, threesomes, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), dirty talk, degradation, anal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, cum play, explicit photos

Comments: Broken down and in need of a mechanic, you call Triple Frontier Repair. Finding out that the repairs are more expensive than you can afford, the men have an idea on how you can compensate them.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Shit.” You hiss when you hear the engine of your piece of shit car start knocking and the dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. “No, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this.” You whine when the acceleration of the car suddenly depletes and you are obviously going to be moving off the road to the shoulder. Bucking slightly as you try to coax it a little farther so you can safely get off and you feel like crying. You’re in a bind financially and you can’t afford pricey car repairs. If you don’t have a car, you can’t go to work and if you can’t go to work, you won’t have a job. You slap the steering wheel and sigh, knowing that you will need to get the car towed. After cursing your bad luck, you open your phone and google the closest mechanics shop that has a towing service. Hopefully they will be able to fix it for cheap.

“Frontier Repair Shop.” Santi answers the phone, about to leave early but your voice sounds distressed.

“I need a tow and my car - it just stopped and I don’t know what happened.” You try not to cry down the phone and Santi sighs, knowing his mama would kick his ass if she knew he’d left a woman on the side of the road. He asks you for the mile marker you’re near and knows where you are.

“Fish, I’ll be back in a bit.” He promises to his partner, heading out to the tow truck to go and get your vehicle.

When the truck arrives, you almost cry with relief but compose yourself, knowing that this won’t be an easy or cheap fix. When the mechanic gets out of the truck, your mouth falls slightly. “You need a tow?” He asks and you nod, dumbstruck by the handsome man and you almost forget about the issue at hand.

His brows furrow when he slips behind the wheel and sees the array of lights when he turns the key. “It’s good that you turned it off.” He compliments and jams the brake to shift the car into neutral. He’s already put the chains on the frame and just needs to hoist it up onto the flatbed.

“I just….was driving along and it went haywire.” You worry, biting your lip. “It’s gonna be expensive, isn’t it?” You can’t afford this, you are already destined to spend the rest of your rare day off in a mechanic’s shop.

“Won’t know until we get it back to the shop.” Santi tells you, noting how pretty you are, even though you’re obviously distressed. “Don’t worry though, me and Fish are the best mechanics around. We’ll get you back on the road.” He promises before shutting the door. “You need a ride to the shop with me, or do you have someone coming?’

“I need a ride. I don’t have anyone coming to pick me up and I need to get this fixed today. I have to work tomorrow and I don’t have any other way to get there.” You tell him and he nods, opening the passenger door for you to get in. It’s a little messy, coffee cups and wrappers litter the floor but you don’t care, too distracted by your bad luck.

“You from around here?” Santi asks as he starts the truck and makes his way back to the shop.

“No. Moved here years ago for college and didn’t go home.” You sigh.

Santi nods and concentrates on the road. “I get that.” He tells you. “Fish and I opened this shop when we got out of the Army. Just far enough away from the base we didn’t have to deal with that bullshit, but close enough we could go raise hell if we wanted.” He throws you a grin, thinking about the nights they would go bar hopping and get into some good, old fashioned trouble. Plus it was always fun to pick up the women there. “College, huh? What did you major in? I’ve been thinking about taking a few classes, using my G.I. bill.”

“It’s nothing exciting. I work in HR. Majored in Psych but didn’t get to put that degree to the test. But my student loans have been killing me since my rent was increased and I- sorry, you don’t wanna hear about my drama. How long were you in the army?” You ask, curious and trying to not notice the way his forearm muscles clench as he drives the truck.

Santiago snorts, glancing over at you and then back at the road. “Twenty years.” He admits, grinning ruefully. “Joined up when I was eighteen. Got out last year.” He shrugs. “Not too bad, but the retirement pay doesn’t go as far as it used to. And Fish and I were going stir crazy. Running ops wasn’t feasible, so we decided to start turning wrenches.”

“Fish?” You ask and he nods, “my partner. His name is Frankie but we had nicknames in our team in the army. His was Catfish and mine was Pope- is Pope.” He says and you frown, “where did Pope come from?” You ask and Santi smirks a little as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “Back in the day, the fellas would say that women knelt before me like Catholics kneel before the Pope.”

You fluster at the thought, unable to deny his claim. Women would still kneel before him now. “I appreciate you coming out to help me so fast.” You say as he turns into the lot for the shop.

“Never leave a pretty lady on the side of the road.” Pope hums, watching as he turns the big wrecker around and he throws it park before looking over at you. “If you go into the waiting area, we have mediocre coffee and bottled water.” He shrugs and winks. “Down the hall to the right is a little break room. Fish has some Cokes stashed in the fridge for people we like.” He winks at you and juts his chin towards the building. “Go relax, we’ll take care of you.”

You nod, grateful to him for being so kind, and you get out of the truck, adjusting your skirt as you make your way into the shop, walking past the open garage doors. Frankie is just wheeling out from under a Kia Soul when his eyes find your legs and trail up your form as you walk past. The bell rings as you open the door to the waiting area and Frankie whistles as Santi strides over. “Jesus, Pope. Where’d you find her?” He asks, smirking at his friend.

Pope grins and shrugs. “What can I say, women just flock to me.” He jokes, before pointing to the car that James is rolling off the flatbed. “She broke down on the side of the road. Needs it ASAP, but I can already tell it’s gonna be expensive.” He snorts. “I might have promised her that she would be driving home tonight.”

Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs, aware that his friend often makes outrageous promises to pretty women, mostly at the expense of Frankie’s time. “Fuck, Pope.” He grumbles. “Kia’s done, go write it up and I’ll get started on the car.”

Pope grins victoriously at his friend giving in to his whims when it comes to gorgeous women and he makes his way inside, calling out the owner of the Kia to give him the invoice and take his payment while Frankie backs the car out of the bay. “Thanks man. Always appreciate you guys fixing her up.” The guy says to Pope and shakes his hand. You watch as he exits the waiting room and figure he must be an army friend. You are anxious to find out how much this is gonna cost. You might have to ask him to fix it up enough to drive around without clunking out but you know you’d be back in the shop at a moment in the near future.

Under the hood of the car, Frankie is hissing a curse as he shoves his busted knuckle into his mouth. Not really minding the grease as he sucks at the broken skin. He was used to having greasy hands from the work he did, but he fucking hated whoever designed the engine compartment on this car. “Goddamn piece of shit.” He scowls when he pulls his hand away from his mouth and looks back down at the fuel injector. It’s shot to shit and he’s pretty sure that your head gasket is leaking. It won't be cheap, just like Pope predicted, but it can be fixed today. He sighs, wondering how you are going to react to the price tag that’s gonna be slapped on this repair.

You sip the mediocre coffee, staring at the tv that has Judge Judy reruns on and you fidget, wondering what the cost of your car repair is going to run you. You’re there a while, other customers leaving. The young college kid who is helping out has gone home and you sigh, looking down at your now cold coffee.

Coming into the office, Frankie wipes his hands on a rag and looks over at you before shuffling towards the break room. “Car’s fixed.” He tells you. “Let me wash the grease off my hands and I’ll get you ready to go. Pope’s just closing her up now.”

You look up and nod, standing up from the plastic chair that’s stuck to the back of your thighs and you toss the coffee cup, wondering if the criteria to work here is to be a ridiculously hot guy. You bite your lip and lean against the counter when he comes back with clean hands. “You, uh, you didn’t even give me a quote.” You frown and Frankie sighs, “honestly, the car is on its last legs. I’m stretching its life as much as possible but you gotta look at getting a new car, sweetheart.” He explains, “I did what I could.”

You sigh, nodding and knowing he’s right. “What’s the damage?” You ask, bracing yourself.

Frankie winces apologetically. “I’m only charging you for parts.” He promises. There had been more wrong with it than he had first realized and Pope had told him to fix it enough to make it safe. “$1600” he tells you, hating the way your eyes seem to bug out of your head. “I can show you the printout. I didn’t charge you for labor. Pope told me about your situation.”

“I- shit. I- I can’t - I don’t have that.” Your eyes start to water, “I didn’t know and you didn’t tell me so I - shit. I don’t have that kind of money.” You choke, unsure of what the hell you’re going to do.

The bell rings above the door and Pope walks in, “we got her fixed up for you.”

You shake your head, “yeah and I can’t afford to pay you because you guys didn’t consult me so it’s - I don’t know what to do.” You choke again.

Pope frowns and Frankie hisses. He had thought he had talked to you. “Pendejo.” He groans, throwing the towel in his hand at Pope.

“Sweetheart, that’s what we had to do to get her running.” He tells you. “You could easily sink another two or three grand in that car. She’s honestly barely road worthy.” Pope explains and Frankie shakes his head.

“Cabrón.” He huffs. “You should have talked to her.”

You shake your head, “I don’t - I’m barely making my rent. I don’t have $1600 to pay you. Shit. I- I’m so sorry. I don't know what to do or say. Oh God, this is - this is a nightmare.” You close your eyes, almost willing yourself to wake up.

“Don’t cry.” Frankie hates when a woman cries and you are too pretty to cry over something like this. You shouldn’t have to worry about things like this at all. “We can work something out.” He promises. “A payment plan. I’m not going to unfix your car. It’ll be alright.”

Your eyes open, “really? You’d do that- I - thank you.” You offer him a grateful look and Pope clicks his tongue.

“There’s another option too.” He says, his voice lowering as his eyes trail along your form. “I can give you a discount if you…if you let me fuck you.” He says, dragging his thumb along his lower lip as his eyes return to yours. You inhale sharply, knowing you should be slapping him for that but shit, you were attracted to him from the get go.

“Santiago.” Frankie warns him and Santi shakes his head, “or for free…if you let both of us fuck you.” He says and your eyes widen, flicking to Frankie whose eyes are wide but not shocked. It’s not a secret that both men are handsome, something from a woman produced porno and you should say no, arrange a payment plan, and leave, but getting your car fixed for free is tempting.

“Both of you? And the car is free?” You ask and Pope nods. You inhale deeply, taking another second before you nod, “where do you wanna do this?”

“Holy shit.” Frankie whispers, surprised that you are actually considering this. He won’t even deny that he’s hopeful that you will decide to fuck them both. He can write off the car parts and it’s been a long time since he’s fucked anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as you.

“Right here, in the break room.” Santiago tells you. “We lock the doors, everyone’s gone home and Frankie and I both fuck you silly.” He chuckles. “We’ll even go wash up before you suck our cocks.” Frankie nods, not wanting you to think you’re gonna be subjected to unwashed dick.

You should leave. Say no and tell them to fuck off but it’s been a while since you had sex. You’ve never had a threesome. You wonder if they have done this before. They seem to be comfortable with each other. “Uh, sure. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up myself.” You say, “do you have protection?” You don’t know them and you want to be safe, even if this is the least safe thing you’ve ever done.

“Condoms.” Frankie nods, knowing that Pope keeps a stash of them in the desk drawer for dates after work. “We’re both clean too.” He promises. “VA tests us and Pope’s had sex since but I haven’t.” He admits, feeling a little embarrassed about that.

You exhale shakily, “I’m clean too. Tested at my last gyno appointment. Uh, can I use the bathroom?” You ask and the boys nod, gesturing to the bathroom down the hall. You walk down to it, feeling their eyes on you and you shut the door behind you. Leaning over the sink, you inhale deeply and hate that you feel the churn of arousal in your stomach. It’s hard to deny that the idea of sex with two sexy men doesn’t have you wet already and you know you should be ashamed, you should say no but you can’t.

When you disappear into the bathroom, Frankie whirls on Pope. “Did you fucking set this up?” He hisses, impressed and slightly disgusted by what they are about to do. It’s almost taking advantage of you, even though you’re agreeing. Pope smirks and winks at his friend. “You won’t be upset when her pretty little mouth is sucking your soul out through your cock.” He predicts, arching a brow as if to challenge him. “Not like we haven’t double teamed a girl before. Although now I know she’s clean, I wish you hadn’t told her about the condoms. We could have filled her tank too.” Frankie rolls his eyes at the bad joke but his cock twitches under the mechanics suit at the thought of to high you. His friend has known him for far too long because he grins and slaps his back. “There’s the Fish I know. Go wash your cock and balls.” He orders and Frankie shuffles off to the employee shower room.

You wash your face and freshen up elsewhere before heading back into the hall and your name is called from the break room that Pope told you about earlier. You follow his voice and enter the room, taking note of the ratty sofa and chair in the space, the fridge in the corner and the ancient tv in the corner to match the one in the waiting room. Frankie isn’t back yet so you set your purse down and Santi sits on the sofa. “Come take a seat, relax.” He says, “you can say no at any point. Say the word and we stop.” He promises and you believe him. You sit down next to him, knee bouncing and his large hand stops it with a slight chuckle. “Nervous?” He asks and you nod, eying the condoms on the small coffee table.

“Yeah. I haven’t done this before.” You confess, “threesome. Or sex in exchange for car parts.” You joke breathily and Santi chuckles. It dies down after a moment and he clears his throat, reaching up to cup your cheek. Your eyes burn into his and he leans closer, slowly pressing his lips against yours. The contact is soft and you don’t pull back, shyly kissing him back until the fire in your belly ignites and you grip his overalls, deepening the kiss until his tongue is sliding against yours.

Frankie comes back with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Deciding a full shower would be appropriate. It was a good thing to have in the shop and made it easy to get ready for a date after work. Or fucking a girl in exchange for getting her car fixed, like now. “Go bathe your ass, pendejo.” He huffs, watching as you pull away from Pope and fluster. “I’ll keep our girl entertained.” You’ve agreed to this, so he’s interested, imagining you while he was washing. His cock is already half hard under the towel and he smirks.

Your eyes take in the sight of the mechanic. It’s clear he’s middle aged, a slight stomach, but fuck if you don’t find that sexier than a six pack. The water droplets down his chest have you itching to lick his skin. Deciding to do just that, you stand up and walk over to him, leaning forward to run your tongue along his collarbone to gather the lingering droplets of water from his skin.

“Fuck.” Frankie groans, grabbing your waist and hissing at how good the first touch of you feels. He can hear Pope laugh as he walks out of the room but he’s too busy ducking his head down to press his lips to yours in a kiss that is more impatient and slightly rougher than his brother in arms.

His fingers dig into your waist and his lips press harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth, taken off guard by the fact that you’re enjoying this so far, and his tongue slides against yours. His hands slide down to your ass and he pulls you up against him, his hard cock pressing against your hip. You let him kiss you for another moment until you push him back and he frowns, worried that you’re upset and wanting to leave. He’d let you go but he’d be disappointed. You bite your lip and reach for the tuck of his towel, pulling on it until it falls and reveals his cock. “Shit.” You murmur and admire his thick length, twitching under your gaze and you seem to fall under a spell when you kneel down and wrap your fingers around him. Your tongue is peaking out to press against the leaking slit while your eyes focus on his.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses, taking off guard by the fact that you are almost eagerly getting on your knees for him. “Fuck- strip down.” He growls out. “I want to see your tits and I want your pussy to leak all over my floor.” His cock twitches in your hand, but he pulls his hips back and offers you a hand.

His words make you clench around nothing and you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bra. You push your shirt down and leave you in your underwear. “All of it, baby.” Frankie orders and you nod, undoing the clasp of your bra and you let the straps fall down your arms and expose your tits to the mechanic you barely know.

“Fuck, those are nice.” He groans, reaching out and cupping your tits while you hook your fingers into your panties. He squeezes them and then pinches your nipples and tugs on them. “You’re gonna suck my cock, right pretty girl?” He groans. “Get it all nice and wet to fuck you?”

Usually, dirty talk like that would make you cringe but coming from his mouth? Shit, it has you dripping. “Ye-yes. Gonna make sure you’re gonna be just right to fuck my little pussy.” You talk back just as dirty, thrilled by it when his cock jumps. You step out of your panties and Frankie groans, admiring you until you kneel down on the linoleum floor to wrap your fingers around his cock again.

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, biting his lip as he looks down at you. “Do a good job and I’ll eat your pussy too.” Despite this being an arrangement so you don’t have to pay for your car being fixed, Frankie likes eating pussy and it’s been awhile since he’s had his head framed by a woman’s thighs. You moan quietly and nod before you lean forward and take the head of his cock into your mouth. “Fuuuck.” He hisses, chin dropping down to his chest as he watches you engulf his cock.

You close your eyes for a moment, wanting to compose yourself as the head of his cock presses against your throat and you inhale deeply through your nose just as Frankie says “eyes on me.” You open your eyes and look at him as you take him deeper, unaware that Pope is back and watching you and Frankie.

He sees Pope, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. He knows the other man locked the building down and they were the only ones with the keys. Groaning when you swallow around him, his calloused and work rough hand caresses your cheek. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he coos. “Spread your thighs, sweetheart. Is your little clit throbbing?” Pope smirks, aware that Frankie’s raspy voice manages to make women dripping wet when he talks dirty. Dropping his own towel and wrapping his hand around his hard cock to squeeze it as he walks closer. Keeping quiet until he is kneeling behind you and sliding his other hand between your thighs to touch your cunt while his cock presses against your ass. “Already soaked, Fish.” He moans in your year, kissing just below it. “I think she likes sucking your cock.”

You moan around Frankie’s cock, knowing you shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t like it this much, but you do. You work his cock deeper until you choke and saliva drips down your chin. You whimper when Pope rubs your clit and it’s been so long since someone else touched you, you grind down onto his hand while your fingers dig into Frankie’s ass to encourage him to rock his hips.

“Yeah she does.” Frankie grunts, moving his hand down so he can feel your throat work around him. It’s so sexy to see you on your knees, Pope behind you as he makes sure you’re ready to take both of them. “I say she swallows my load and I’ll eat her cunt like a good little girl while she sucks you off.”

Pope hums in agreement, kissing along your neck while his fingers work your clit. You whimper around Frankie's cock, nodding in pleasure and agreement. You can't believe how these two men have turned you into a wanton whore within moments but you desperately want to make them cum, to feel and see it.

Pope’s lips travel over your shoulders, up your neck. Kissing and licking, occasionally biting your skin as his fingers rub your clit. Eventually moving down and pressing two of his thick digits inside while twisting his wrist around to press his thumb back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. “She’s so tight, Fish.” He groans, loving how you clench around his fingers. “She’s gonna feel so good.”

You clench around his fingers, lost in the sensations of his mouth and his hand caressing you. You choke on Frankie's cock as he pushes deep again and your jaw is starting to ache a little but you push through, wanting him to cum down your throat.

Frankie hisses, and rocks his hips forward again. Spit and pre-cum slide down your jaw and he loves how your eyes fill with tears and yet you don’t try to wipe them away. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, “mouth like a fucking Hoover.” He can hear Pope’s fingers working in and out of your cunt over his grunts and the thick swallowing sounds and moaning around his cock. “Keep going, baby, want you to swallow my cum.”

You want it too. Your throat swallows around him and your teary eyes flick up to meet his as he pushes deep enough to slide down your throat, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling your nose and that's when he falls apart. You close your eyes when he starts to cum, walls fluttering around Pope's fingers as you struggle to swallow the spurts of cum from Fish and his groan echoes in the break room.

“Shit….shiiiiiiiit.” He hisses, eyes nearly crossing in pleasure, handing tightening around your jaw as you swallow him down. Spurts of his cum push out of the corners of your mouth and he rubs his thumb in it to massage it into your skin. “That’s it, good girl.”

You let him work himself dry and you swear you're dripping down Pope's wrist as you let Frankie use you until he is pulling his cock free of your mouth. He surges to lean down, pressing his lips against yours. Tongue pushing deep to taste himself on your tongue without care, and you whimper into his mouth.

Pope chuckles, biting down on your shoulder. “Frankie tastes good, sweetheart?” He asks as he curls his fingers deep inside you. “Let me have a taste.” He hums, not caring about tasting the other man’s spend. He’s done this before with him. Turning your head, he breaks the kiss with Frankie and captures your lips with his own as he pumps his finger inside you.

You clench around Pope’s fingers as kisses you without care about the taste in your mouth. That makes you realize they’ve done this before and it makes you moan into his mouth as his fingers curl inside of you. You need more. You break the kiss and murmur against his chin, “wanna taste you next.”

Frankie chuckles, his cock shrinking back down and hanging flaccidly, but Pope is rock hard against your ass. “We should move this to the sofa.” He suggests, reaching for your arm. “Santi can lean back and I’ll bury my face in your cunt.” He’s eager to taste you, to see how you respond to his tongue.

You nod and whine slightly as Santi removes his fingers from inside of you, and you let Frankie guide you to the sofa. “Kneel down, baby.” He demands and Santi sits on the end of the sofa, his cock hard and aching. You kiss his stomach that clenches before taking his cock in your hand and wrapping your fingers around him to guide him to your mouth.

Frankie groans, watching you take his friend’s cock into your mouth and he smirks. “She’s so fucking good, isn’t she?” He comments and Pope’s head bobbles in agreement. His own hands start to roam over your body, squeezing your ass and hips as he settles behind you and pulls your cheeks apart to get an up close look at your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.” He coos before leans in and buries his tongue inside your wet heat.

You gasp around Santi’s cock. You didn’t expect them to go down on you, thought it was all just dirty talk. You expected a couple of blowjobs, both of them fucking you until they came but you never anticipated them making you cum once. You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie ducks down so he can lick at your clit.

Frankie groans into your flesh, huffing when he can’t reach you like he wants to and he pulls away to flip onto his back. Sliding his head between your thighs and attacking your cunt from before, he lunges up latches onto your clit, wanting to hear you squeal. You’re sexy and you’re letting them fuck you so you should have just as much fun and pleasure as they do.

You cry out, letting Pope’s cock drop from your mouth as you feel the pleasure tingle up your spine and you moan Frankie’s name. “That’s it baby. Let Frankie eat that tight pussy.” Santi coos, caressing your cheek and you shift to take him back into your mouth.

He squeezes your ass and encourages you to drop your hips, wanting your weight on his face. Pope chuckles and caresses your spine. “You’re so fucking pretty, can’t wait to see what you look like riding his cock, my cock. Maybe we’ll stuff you full at the same time.” He doubts that, considering he would have just cum, but it’s a nice thought. “Didn’t we tell you that we would take care of you?”

You lower your hips, a little self conscious but he makes you grind down onto him and you whine around Pope’s cock, eager to please him now that you realize they are going to look after you. You moan when Frankie’s tongue slides through your folds and you sloppily suck on Pope’s cock.

The breakroom sounds obscene. The sounds of sucking and swallowing, moans and grunts filthily filling the air. Frankie moans as your cunt gushes, coating his tongue in a fresh wave arousal and he slurps it down greedily. Rocking your hips to make you ride his face as he licks up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart, Fish is in heaven. His tongue buried in your sweet pussy. I bet he’s already getting hard thinking about fucking you.” Pope coos. “And after he gets done making you scream, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll see stars.”

You swear you can hardly breathe as his filthy words make your pussy clench and you can’t handle it. You want these men. That’s become clear. You rock back onto Fish’s face, back arching as you try to take Pope’s cock deeper but he’s longer than Frankie, not as thick. You choke and saliva drips from your mouth as you try your best to make this blowjob one of the best he’s gotten.

“That’s it sweetheart.” Pope groans, “take it all. Fish, I swear I’m in fuckin’ love with her mouth.” He hisses, talking to Frankie underneath you. Fish grunts his agreement into your folds and is thankful that he had washed his hands, scrubbing them in the shower as he pushes two fingers inside you for you to clench around when you cum. “Cum for Frankie, sweetheart, soak his face.”

You groan, rocking back onto Frankie’s face and you’re so close. So fucking close. His lips suck on your clit as his fingers curl inside of you. You moan around his cock as you cum, clamping down on Frankie’s fingers as he makes you orgasm.

Frankie’s spent cock twitches and he starts to harden again. Loving how you are soaking his face as he sucks on your clit. Your hips grinding down on his face and he moans happily. Working you through the orgasm with singular determination.

You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie works you through it and you want Pope to cum too. You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing him, and you hollow your cheeks, wanting him to spill down your throat.

It takes a long moment before Frankie is willing to pull away. Listening to Pope’s groans getting breathier and lighter as he gets closer to coming. Finally pulling his head away and twisting his body so he can watch you swallow his friend down. “That’s it baby,” He grunts. “Make Santi cum. Swallow him down too so I can fuck you.”

It takes a couple more bobs of your head for Santi to cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing as Frankie withdraws his fingers and Pope starts to spill down your throat. His groan is low and loud, echoing in the room as he twitches while he spills down your throat, making you moan around him.

“Fuck….” Santi hisses, head dropping back against the sofa and moaning out as he throbs in your mouth.

“Fuck, girl, you are so gorgeous like this.” Frankie groans, chuckling as he wraps his wet hand around his cock and starts to slowly pump himself completely hard. “Swallow him down like a good girl.” He orders.

You obey, eagerly swallowing every drop of cum. Santi cums less than Frankie, none of it dripping down your chin as you let the salty seed spurt down your throat until he’s softening in your mouth. You pull off of him and open your mouth, displaying your tongue to him to show you’ve swallowed every drop.

“Good girl.” Pope pants, grinning as he leans in to press his lips to yours.

“Don’t be greedy, cabrón.” Frankie huffs, pulling you back and scowling at his grinning friend. Taking over kissing you greedily and tasting him out of your mouth with no issue.

You’ve never known two men so comfortable with each other and it’s intoxicating. You cup his cheek as his tongue slides against yours. “Baby, I need - I need you to fuck me.” You whine into Frankie’s mouth.

He hums happily, pleased that you are begging him although he knows if he had just cum, you would be begging Pope. “I’m going to fuck you.” He promises. Leaning over and grabbing a condom off the table. “How do you want to be fucked, pretty girl?” He demands. “Back, hands and knees?” He rips the packet open and starts to roll it down his length. Wanting you to decide how he fills you.

“On my back.” You answer breathlessly and Frankie nods, shifting back so you can lay down on the sofa. Pope frames your shoulders, looking down at you, and his hands instantly grab your tits. You moan and Frankie kneels on the sofa, pushing your legs apart so he can settle between them.

Shuffling closer and pumping his cock, Frankie looks down at you. Watching you squirm and moan under Pope’s touch. “Gonna fuck you, baby.” He promises, notching himself at your entrance and pulling one leg up to drag across the back of the sofa for more access. “Right now.” He grunts as he starts pushing in.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you haven’t had sex in a while. Not since your ex. You reach up to grip Pope’s forearms as he squeezes your tits and you close your eyes. “Oh I think she likes that already, Cat.” Santi chuckles and you nod, mouth falling open as he pushes deeper until he’s fully inside of you.

“She’s fucking tight.” Frankie growls, gritting his teeth together and trying to control himself. Your hot walls around him make him just want to destroy you, but he needs to let you adjust. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He hisses when you squeeze him in response to his twitching deep inside you.

You know he’s just lost in the moment but his words make you whine with need and Pope chuckles as he pinches your nipples. “God, she’s a cock hungry little whore, ain’t she?” He asks his best friend who nods and gives you another moment before he starts to move, pulling out of you almost all the way until he decides to push back in in a thrust that takes your breath away.

Frankie chuckles, loving the little squeak that gets cut off. “Let me hear you, baby.” He grunts, pulling back for another thrust. “No one here, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” Snapping his hips forward, he drills into you again to start a harsh pace.

You can’t deny him. You cry out as he punches deep, feeling like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. Your nails dig into Santi’s forearms as you take what Frankie gives you, moaning his name and you’re soaking him with wave after wave of arousal until your pussy starts to squelch with each thrust.

Luckily the sofa is leather and can be wiped off, otherwise you would be soaking it. Every time you gush around him. Making him groan as he rocks into you. “Is it worth it?” He grunts. “Letting us fuck you? Being our little slut for the night?”

You nod, “so- so worth it. Oh God. I- keep talking.” You beg, loving to hear his deep voice saying such filthy things. Pope chuckles, “keep going, Fish. She loves hearing you talk dirty. Had her soaking my fingers earlier.”

He chuckles and twitches inside you again. “She’s such a dirty slut.” He tells Pope. “I should just take off the condom and fill her cunt up with my cum, make a mess of her.” He hums. “Or I’ll pull out and cum all over her. Covering her like the little cum whore she is.”

“Oh fuck yessss.” You moan out, lost in the haze of lust, “want you to fill me up. Please, baby. Please. I need - I want - oh God.” You pant as he rocks into you, his jaw clenched and you whine out as he pushes you up the sofa and into Pope’s lap.

He smirks, enjoying how much you are begging for it but he would never make that change while everyone is caught up in the moment. “Good girl.” He groans, “Maybe I’ll wait until Pope is hard again and we’ll both take a hole. Really fill you up. Would you like that, baby?”

Your responding nod nearly makes your neck cramp. “Yes. Fuck. I- I want both of you. Want to feel both of you. I want - oh God. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, reaching up when you see Santi’s cock starting to get hard and you wrap your fingers around him while Frankie fucks you even harder. “Frank- I - oh shit.” You pant, getting closer and closer.

“That’s it, that’s it, pretty girl.” He pants out, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he fills you again and again. “Want you to cum for me. Want you to soak my cock. Scream my name.” He is practically begging but his hand snakes down between your bodies so he can rub your clit. “Cum for me.”

His thumb on your clit is exactly what you need. You practically squeal as you break, clamping down on his cock and soaking him as you cry out his name. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your grip on Santi’s cock tightens as you experience your second orgasm.

Pope hisses, and his cock throbs in your hand. “Beautiful.” He groans, watching you with heavy lidded eyes as Frankie works you through your orgasm and pushes for his own. “Cum, hermano.” He urges. “I want to be inside her the next time she squeals.

Frankie grunts, grabbing your leg to push it back further and you moan, opening your eyes to watch him. “That’s it baby. Cum for me.” You demand, “wanna see you cum again.” You let go of Santi’s cock to grab the back of Frankie’s neck, dragging him down to press your lips to his.

Moaning in surprise at your ferocity, Frankie feels the tingling in the base of his spine. The rush of pleasure that happens right before his body starts to tighten. Thrusting haphazardly, he growls out your name, “gonna- fuck- gonna cum.” He warns you against your lips as he gives a short, half thrust before he is pushing deep and grinding his hips, cock pulsing deep inside your cunt as he feels the condom up with his release. Sliding his tongue into your mouth as he rides out the waves of bliss.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and you kiss him back as he fills the condom up and slowly rocks into you, riding his orgasm. “Well goddamn.” Pope coos, enjoying the show and his cock throbs.

Frankie kisses you slowly until he is good and damn ready to pull out of you. Holding the base of the condom and rocking back to pull out gently. Caressing your thigh as he looks down at you. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, smirking at your exhausted expression. “You got one more in you for us, don’t you?”

You nod, feeling boneless but you want Santi to cum too. Not because he’s footing the bill for your car but because you want him to fuck you.

You look up at Frankie and you offer him a lazy smile, “I do. Want Santi to fuck me.” You say and look up at Santi.

Frankie smirks proudly. “Good girl.” He shuffles back and lets Santiago take his place between your thighs. Standing up with a groan and walking over to the trash can to throw away the condom. “How do you want to be fucked this time?” The other man hums as he strokes a finger through your sensitive folds.

You whimper at the sensation and shift to kneel. “I want to ride you.” You tell Pope and he chuckles, reaching to smack your ass before he grabs the condom. “Let me -” He works fast to follow the rubber onto his cock and he hisses when you move fast to straddle his thighs. “Wanna feel you in my stomach.” You coo at him as you grip his cock and shuffle forward until you are sinking down onto him.

Even though he’s already cum, Frankie watches as you take Santi’s cock with eagerness. Knowing the man is enjoying himself from the way his thighs clench and he moans, hands gripping your ass and squeezing it. Unable to stop himself, Frankie cups your tits and pinches your nipples, biting down on your shoulder sharply before soothing it with his tongue. “So, ride him, sweetheart.” He orders. “Bounce on his cock like a little slut and show us what you've got.”

You clench around Santi’s cock at the filthy words and decide to follow orders. You grip Santi’s shoulders and start to move, lifting up until his cock nearly falls out of you before you sink back down. A moan escapes your lips and you squeeze his shoulders. “Fuck. You - it’s like you’re in my guts.” You confess, unable to to believe how long he is.

Pope chuckles and Frankie continues to tease and torment your nipples. “Want to be deep. So fucking deep you feel me for days.” He tells you, snapping his hips up.

You let out a noise that's half gasp, half moan, and your nails dig into his shoulders as Frankie kisses along your neck. It's overwhelming and incredible. "Shit. I will. I won't be able to - to walk tomorrow." You declare, loving the thought even if you need to work. "Fuck. I - oh God." You tilt your hips as you rock down and the change in angle has your head tilting back and a moan of Santi's name escaping your lips.

“Good.” Frankie growls, kissing along your neck. “Don’t walk. Or if you do, feel us every time you move.” He slaps your ass while still fondling your tits with his other hand. Sliding it lower to rub the puckered hole that is so close to where you are taking Pope.

You gasp at the slight invasion until you moan, "God. Want you - want you both inside of me. Wanna feel you both cum inside of me at the same time." Your inhibitions are gone as they tear you apart with their words and their actions, making you desperate to please and desperate to feel more.

Frankie smirks and pulls his fingers away to spit on them. “My fingers are going to have to do, Princess.” He teases. “You’ve drained me dry. Milked me for every drop of cum with that perfect mouth and cunt.” He rubs your hole again and starts to slowly press his fingers into you.

The added pressure has you shaking above Pope who has to thrust up into you, his hands grabbing your ass to spread your cheeks for Frankie to push his fingers deeper. The stretch has you closing your eyes, feeling fuller than ever before with Santi's cock still inside of you. "Oh fuck. That's - you're gonna make me cum." You rush out, body shaking even harder as Frankie pushes his fingers deeper and starts to move them inside of you.

“That’s it, baby, cum for us.” Pope coos. “Come apart, want to see you, hear you scream.” He chuckles and leans in to bite at your bottom lip. “Cum.”

You practically scream into his chin as the two men work your body until you’re clamping down on Pope’s cock, soaking him and clenching around Frankie’s fingers as your orgasm hits you like a steam train.

You’re a stranger to them, they don’t know you, they don’t know your life - but they know what you look like when you cum. Watching you while they are holding their breaths, thinking that you are gorgeous as you shake and gasp for them.

You collapse forward onto Santi’s chest as he rocks up into your pussy, getting closer and closer until he freezes beneath you and lets out a groan as he spills into the condom. “Shit.” You pant into his skin while Frankie kisses along your spine.

Panting, Santiago grins as he tries to catch his breath. Squeezing your ass and rocking you languidly on his still stiff cock. “You’ve blown my mind, baby.” He hums, very pleased with the way this situation has turned out. “Definitely.”

You smile, “glad we could help each other out.” You thought you were fucked when you were told the cost of the repair or your car but you now acknowledge that it’s one of the best things to happen to you. “Might have to come back when she dies on me again.” You murmur as Frankie removes his fingers from inside of you and you shift off of Pope’s cock after he holds the condom.

Frankie smirks as he helps you off the sofa. “You can come back anytime, baby.” He promises with a wink. “You can use the bathroom in the breakroom, or go two doors down and use the shower.” He likes you, but you had done this so you could have your car, not for any other reason. He looks over at Pope and chuckles at the very satisfied look on his friend’s face.

You decide to use the shower, knowing that even if they hadn’t cum inside of you, you are sweaty and you want to wash off. “I’ll go shower.” You shift off of the sofa and stumble as you try to get your balance and the boys chuckle at their handiwork.

Completely at easy with his own nudity, Frankie walks over to the sink to wash his hands. Then going over to the fridge to pull out two beers, striding back over to the sofa to hand Pope one and then opening it as he flops down onto the couch beside him. “You actually had a good idea, asshole.” He huffs, smirking as he takes a sip of the beer.

Santiago smirks, “reckon she’ll be back?” He asks, “I hope she is. Does that sound bad? I don’t want her to get into an accident but Jesus, that pussy? Worth doing some free work and writing off parts for, huh?”

Frankie snorts and shrugs. “Not too bad. Not like you fucked with the timing belt so she has to come back.” He smirks to himself, thinking that it wasn’t too bad of an idea, but he hadn’t done that. He had fixed it the best he was able. “But that car’s a piece of shit, so who knows? She might become a regular.”

You wash off with their cheap 3-in-1 men’s body wash and kinda like how you smell like them after all the sex is washed from your body. You realized you need to get your clothes from the break room and walk in with the towel wrapped around you. “Decent water pressure you have in here.” You say as you reach for your panties and drop the towel, uncaring now they have seen every part of your body.

Pope chuckles and nods. “After showering in the shittiest places all over the world and having no water pressure, Fish demanded that we have a good shower.” His answer makes you tilt your head curiously and he shrugs. “Army, special forces.” He reminds you, “plenty of times we get ready to go out here, saves us a trip home.”

You nod, understanding and hating that you feel a little jealous about them going on dates. You have zero reason to feel possessive. You don’t know them, yet you want them to yourself. You fasten your bra and redress fast, sliding your feet into your shoes. “So, uh, I guess if I have any issues I’ll come see you again?” You ask, biting your lip as you stand while they sit on the sofa.

Frankie smirks and nods. “Anytime, baby, but I guarantee you won’t have problems on the shit I worked on.” He promises. “I don’t do sloppy work.” He’s not boasting, even though it might sound that way. He’s reassuring you that your car is as fixed as he could get it with what he worked on. “We were serious though, you need to start looking for another car.”

You nod, “I know. I, uh, I gotta save up some cash. I’ll see what I can do.” You sigh and Frankie stands up, still naked. “Thank you. For everything.” You say and hug him, breathing him in before you kiss him. Santi stands up a moment later, his hand on your waist and you switch to hug him, his lips eagerly finding yours.

While you kiss Pope, Frankie finds a pair of shorts to throw on so he can escort you to the door. He palms the keys to your car and when you pull away from Santi, he holds them up. “Let’s go get you back on the road so you can go to work tomorrow.” He hums.

You step back from Santi and take your keys. "Thank you so much guys." You thank them, "seriously, thank you. You saved me." You look them both in the eyes, and Santi winks at you, "our pleasure...literally."

Frankie walks you to your car, waiting for you to slide into the driver’s seat before handing you the keys and closing the door to lean in the window. “Thank you for tonight.” He murmurs quietly and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Best pussy I’ve had.” He winks at you when he pulls back and taps the door.

You fluster, fumbling with your keys to turn the ignition, and Frankie stands there until you put the car in drive and make your way down the gravel driveway to the road. When you are driving home, you process what just happened and you think you should be disgusted with yourself for essentially whoring your body out to get your car fixed for free but you loved every second of it. Your car cruises along and you smirk as you stop at a light. It would be a shame if something else happened to you and you had to go back to the shop.

****

A week has passed and even though Frankie has thought about that night, especially when he’s in the break room, neither man has heard from you. It’s a good thing, really. It means that your car is working properly and you’ve been living your life. Leaning on the engine of a Ford Taurus that needs new spark plugs, Frankie’s back is to the lot when he hears the crunch of tires on the gravel. Another customer. He hears them pull the car to a stop and the door opens. “Go inside.” he calls out over his shoulder as he carefully replaces the first plug. “Santiago can help you.”

“I was kinda hoping you’d get your hands on my engine and make her purr.” You declare and Frankie hisses as he hits his head on the hood. “You’re back.” He says, rubbing his head and you nod, “she’s having issues again.” You bite your lip, “was wondering if you and Santi could help me out.” You’ve spent all week thinking about the two men, almost wishing your car would crap out so you could call Santi again to pick you up and help you out.

“Yeah?” The engine sounded fine to him when you had pulled up but he smirks slightly as he holds out a hand for the keys. “Leave her with me.” He promises. “I’ll find out what's wrong just as soon as I’m done with this one.” He cocks his head. “Might take awhile though. ‘Til closing.” He teases, cock twitching and he wonders if there is something actually wrong or if his instinct is right and your back to get get fucked again.

You hand him the keys and offer him a small smile, not wanting to give away what your intentions are. You bite your lip and walk into the waiting room to find Santi sitting behind the desk. “You’re back?” His eyes widen and you nod, feigning a sigh, “she’s making strange noises again.” You tell him and shift from one foot to the other, “Frankie said he’d be checking it out after the one he’s working on now.”

Santiago nods and motions towards the waiting area. “You can wait out here or you know where the break room is.” He smirks slightly and licks his lips as he remembers the last time you were in that room. “You know that we will take care of it, of you.” He drops his voice down and watches as your eyes swim with lust.

You decide to make your intentions known and walk down to the break room. Exhaling shakily, you wait for someone to follow you and it doesn’t take long for Santi’s hands to find your waist as you look up at the tv in the corner. “You come in for another issue?” He asks, voice low in your ear. “She’s not purring like she should be. Figured I should get it checked out.”

“Hmmmm.” Santiago smirks, seeing through your weak story and he presses close, flattening his front against your back. “Frankie will fix her.” He promises, whispering the words into your ear and grinning when you shudder. “Question is, how expensive will it be? And how will you pay for it?”

“I - I was thinking…maybe you could honor the last deal we had? Since it’s only been a week and it’s gone wrong already.” You say softly, feeling a little ashamed until his nose nudges your neck and his warm breath washes over your skin, making you shiver.

Since the customer wasn’t waiting for the car he had been working on, Frankie abandoned it as soon as you walked inside and started looking at yours. Quickly finding out that nothing is wrong with the car beyond what he knew about a week ago. He chuckles to himself as he wipes his hands as he walks over to the door. No one else is at the shop and once again, you are alone with the two men. He walks in to find you and Santiago looking very intimate and he hums. “Well, sweetheart, looks like you’re in another bind.” He lies, feigning concern. “Transmissions gone and it’s gonna be at least a thousand bucks.”

You make sure you look a little distraught as you turn to face the other man. “I- you know I don’t have the money. Can we - can we honor the last deal we had?” You ask, sticking your lower lip out.

His eyes slide behind you to Pope and it’s obvious that he’s seen through your charade. Pretending to consider it, he bites his lip. “Depends on what you’ll let us do, baby.” he finally decides. “We’ve both fucked you, gotten our dicks sucked. What can you give us this time?” Your eyes widen and he smirks. “I’m thinking that you let us fuck you bare this time.” He growls. “No condom. Both holes.”

You close your eyes, trying to refrain from your shiver of anticipation, and you pretend to consider it. “And you’ll do what it takes to fix my car?” You ask, “for free?” Frankie nods and you bite your lip, “deal.” You hold your hand out and he takes it, dragging you to him so he can press his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair as Santi comes up behind you to kiss your neck and work on the button of your jeans. It’s as overwhelming as it was before but you’re already drunk on them both.

They should stop and clean up. Shower, but somehow Frankie doesn’t think that you care how clean they are. Maybe you even prefer the idea of sweaty, hardworking men using you. His tongue slides into your mouth as he snakes a hand up your shirt to squeeze your tit over the lacy bra you are wearing. Something you obviously put on in anticipation of getting fucked. Frankie drags his lips away from yours to groan. “Do you want her ass?” He asks Pope, knowing the man loves anal.

The way he discusses you like you’re an object shouldn’t make you clench around nothing but it does and Santi’s fingers slide into your lace panties to find your clit and you moan, arching your chest into Frankie’s hand. “Of course, hermano. Her ass is mine. You take her pussy. She’s already wet for us.” He chuckles darkly as he twists his hand to slide his finger through your folds as Frankie pulls your shirt over your head.

“Of course she is.” Frankie scoffs. “We’re going to make her cum. Multiple times. How often does that happen?” He quickly unhooks your bra and ducks his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple and bites down on it.

You pant, “not too often until - until I came here.” You confess, “ex didn’t make me - not like you do.” You admit breathlessly as Santi works on pulling down your jeans, helping you kick off your sneakers and he groans at the sight of the lacy thong. “Someone had high hopes.” He teases and you chuckle breathlessly, “don’t hear you complaining.”

Frankie pulls off your tit with a pop and chuckles. “Oh we aren’t complaining, baby” he promises. “I’m just trying to decide if Pope’s gonna lick your pussy while I’m balls deep or we’re gonna double team making you cum on our tongues before you get our cocks.”

“Shit.” You hiss, your body almost vibrating with need for them. You’ve spent every night since you came here to get your car fixed thinking about them with your hand between your thighs. “What - whatever you want. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want to me.”

“Oh we’re going to.” His chuckle is bordering on mean and Pope smacks your ass. “Gotta get a thousand dollars worth of pussy.” Pope teases, sliding his hand back between your thighs and pushing two fingers inside you. Frankie hums and decides he can’t wait. “You’re going to sit on my cock while Pope eats you out.”

You nod, unable to deny the man a thing. He quickly strips out of his overalls and there’s something so sexy and raw about him as he strips down and Santi notices, chuckling as you clench around his fingers. When Fish sits down naked on the sofa, Pope withdraws his fingers and you shift to straddle Frankie but he shakes his head and turns you around. You nod and shuffle back, gripping his cock so you can sink down onto him, bare and thick. “Holy shit.” You moan, leaning back into his chest and Frankie spreads your legs a little wider.

Frankie groans and slides his hands up your thighs to cup both of your breasts. Pope is staring at your cunt, his cock pushing deep as he strips out of his own clothes. “Fuck, she’s even better without the condom.” Frankie pants as he rolls your nipples with his fingers and twists them slightly to hear you gasp.

You moan in agreement, “can feel all of you.” You reach back to run your fingers through his hair as Pope strips down. His cock bounces as he comes over to the sofa, kneeling down in front of you and you watch him as you start to work yourself on Frankie’s cock. On your tiptoes as you try to lift yourself enough to ride him.

Grunting, Frankie rocks his hips up to fill you again. Enjoying the squeal and he squeezes your breasts roughly again. “Couldn’t get enough of us, could you?” He grunts. “Too bad we aren’t your landlords. You could just pay rent in pussy.” He teases. “Be our personal cocksleeve.”

“Fuck.” You pant, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I fucking wish.” You declare and Santi runs his hands along your thighs, bringing your attention to him. You look down and his dark eyes meet yours as he leans forward to slide his tongue against your clit, just above where Frankie’s cock is disappearing inside of you. “Oh my God.” You whine at the added sensation.

“Eat her pussy good, Pope.” Frankie orders as he starts to nibble and lick on your neck. “She deserves to cum before we’re filling these little holes with our loads.” He groans when you clench down on him. “You like that, baby? You want to drip our cum? We can jerk off on you too.”

“Yes. Shit. I want - I want you to ruin me. Use me. Cum on me. In me. Do- do whatever you want.” You ramble, knowing that you’re completely drunk on them. You’ve never been treated like this and it has you begging for more. Pope’s tongue slides along your folds and you moan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.

Slapping your breast, Frankie bites down on your shoulder, hoping to leave teeth impressions. Leaving a mark on your skin. He rocks his hips up and hums. “We will. You’re such a willing little slut for us.” He hisses, loving how much you enjoy the dirty talk.

“I am. Only for you. Only ever like this for you two. Fuck, Frankie. I- shit.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in Santi’s hair, rocking your hips again to try and find the spot to make you cream. “Oh God.” You gasp when you find it, rocking frantically as you work yourself up to your orgasm.

“That’s it. Fuck you get so tight.” Frankie coos as you bounce on his dick. “Cum for us. Cum and Pope will slide into your ass and you can cum again. And again until we finally fill up your little holes and let you feel us for another week.”

His words combined with his cock and Pope’s mouth around your clit has you falling apart. You squeal, closing your legs around Pope’s head as you collapse back against Frankie while you convulse with your climax. “Oh oh ohhh.” You cry out, eyes clenched shut.

Frankie groans, twitching inside you and trying to bite his lip to control himself. Wanting to make sure that he doesn’t cum too early. He wants to fill you up when Pope is also inside you.

You relax, panting as you work through your orgasm, and Pope caresses your thighs while you recover. "Frank, lay down and let her sit on your cock while I get her ready." Pope says, slapping your thigh. The other man nods and you shift off of him so he can lay down on the sofa.

Frankie watches as you straddle him, smirking as he leans up and bites the top of your tit and smacks your thigh. “You ready to take both of us, baby?” He asks roughly, eager to stretch you out and hear you scream again. You’re addicting and so fucking eager for their touch.

You nod, a little apprehensive but eager. You have done anal before with your ex so you know what to expect but you've never had two men at the same time. You shiver as Pope straddles the sofa behind you, a bottle of lube in his hand. "You had that hanging around?" You tease breathlessly.

Pope chuckles and he shrugs. “Spit sucks when you’re jerking off.” He tells you easily, before he opens the bottle to squirt it onto his fingers. “Gonna work you open for a few minutes, baby. Want you to enjoy it.”

You gasp softly when his fingers prod at your puckered hole and you whimper when he pushes a finger into you. "Fuck baby." You murmur, clenching around Frankie's cock while his hands caress your waist and up to your tits.

“It’s okay, baby.” Frankie coos softly. “We aren’t going to wreck you until you’re ready.” He promises. He knows that Pope is eager to slide inside you, but the man is a trained operator, he has the patience to wait until it will be nothing but the sweetest pinch of pain for you. “Open up for him. Let us make you fly.”

You nod, eyes fluttering closed when Pope adds another finger, scissoring to try and open you up a little more. You gasp again, "God, it feels good." You confess, rocking slightly on Frankie's cock as Santi opens you up for him.

“Kiss me, pretty girl.” Frankie orders, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his lips. You’re intoxicating and he wants to gorge himself on you while Pope works you open and slides inside your tight little hole.

You slide your tongue against his and you moan into his mouth as Pope adds a third finger, pumping them deep and you pant into Frankie’s mouth. “Oh God. I need - please. Need you both inside of me now.” You beg, needing to feel fuller than ever before.

Frankie and Pope both chuckle because of how desperate that you sound. Frankie kisses you again as Pope slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the luge again to generously coat his cock in the clear jelly. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” His hand caresses your spine as he shuffles closer and presses the head of his cock to your puckered hole as Frankie holds your hips steady.

You inhale deeply, preparing yourself to take his cock. You bite your lip as he pushes into you and you wince at the slight pinch but it disappears as soon as it comes, and you are moaning when Pope pushes into you and you feel fuller than you've ever felt in your life. "Holy shit." You hiss, body almost shaking from the sensation.

“That’s it, baby.” Frankie caresses your sides. “You’re doing so good. You look so fucking pretty split open by our cocks. Doesn’t she, Pope?”

"Fucking incredible, hermano." Pope says as he watches his cock disappear into your ass and you're so fucking tight. He thought your pussy was tight but this is - it's mind numbing. "I need you to move." You tell them, thighs shaking slightly.

“We’re gonna move.” Frankie promises, lifting his hips and slowly starting to scrub his cock along your walls. “You just hold still and let us do all the work, baby.”

You can’t move, sandwiched between the two men as their cocks push deep until they start to move. Frankie moves first then Pope, alternating so you’re always full of one cock and it’s overwhelming, more than you’ve ever felt before. Inhumane whines and cries escape your lips as you let them use your body.

Frankie can tell you love it, even if you can’t speak right now. Your tight little cunt is made even tighter by Pope and he can feel the other man through the thin wall. Sliding his hand around your hip as he rocks his own up, his thumb finds your clit and he presses against it to start rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves.

You squeal at the added stimulation. It’s too much and yet not enough at the same time. You shake as you let them use your body for their pleasure and the pleasure you receive back is making your eyes water. It’s so good. “Oh fuck.” You finally gasp out and Santi kisses along your neck, biting down your shoulder the opposite side of Frankie’s bite.

Frankie groans and slaps your thigh. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” He hisses. “Gonna be even prettier filled with our cum. Wanna take a picture of those cum filled holes.”

"Yesss. Do it. I wanna - I wanna see." You confess and try to rock your hips but they have you trapped between them as they rock into you.

Pope groans when you grip his cock unconsciously, "so fucking tight. Thought your pussy was tight but mierda, this is- shit." He hisses and rocks into you, over and over while Frankie rubs your clit, his thick cock pushing deep until you burst. "Oh I'm gonna - I'm gonna - oh fu-!" Your cry becomes a choke as you clamp down on Frankie's cock.

Both men have to stop moving because you are shaking so hard, your walls gripping them like a vice and they each moan. Frankie groans your name when you collapse forward and Pope grips your hips and immediately starts rocking into you frantically.

You are sweaty and overstimulated but you want them to fill you up. “Come on baby. Fill me up. Want to be dripping both of you. Want you to take - take a photo to keep. Want - shit - I need your cum.” You pant out, turning your head to press your lips to Santi’s jaw.

Pope chuckles and nods. “We will.” He promises before he kisses your mouth. Frankie grunts, watching the kiss as he starts to move again, falling into that alternating rhythm with Pope. “Fuck, you’re such a little slut. I fuckin’ love it.”

You pant, “yesss. For you. Only for you. Yours. This body belongs to you both.” You promise as Pope kisses your chin, his grunts get louder and more ragged. “Cum for me, fill me up.”

Santiago is the first one to tip over the edge. Gritting his teeth and hissing out your name as his hips slap against your ass once, twice more before he is letting out a strangle grown and grinding deep, cock pulsing as he fills your ass.

You love the way his fingers dig into your hips as he holds you close while he cums. "Cum for me, Frankie." You demand, wanting to feel the other man spill inside of you too.

Frankie pants out an acknowledgment of what you had moaned and rockets up the pace of his thrusts. Bracing his feet on the sofa and fucking up into you as hard as he can.

All you can do is hang on as Frankie fucks up into you a half dozen more times before he’s cumming, filling you up and making you shudder as the sensation of both men cumming inside of you gives you a small aftermath orgasm that makes your pussy milk Frankie for every drop.

“Fuuuuuuuuck.” Frankie groans, pulling you close to kiss you again. His tongue is surprisingly gentle, intimate instead of demanding while he rides out his orgasm inside your perfect cunt.

You kiss him back just as eagerly, moaning into his mouth and Pope kisses along your shoulder, “so good.” He murmurs into your skin and you hum your agreement.

“God, I definitely don’t think I can walk for a while.” You giggle and rest your weight on Frankie as he twitches inside of you.

Frankie chuckles. “It’s a good thing you don’t have to.” He tells you and smirks at Santiago. “Go get your phone.” He orders. “So we can take a picture of those cum filled holes.” He had meant it when he said he wanted a photo. His eyes slide over to you. “If you will let us take one.” He adds. “Not your face though. And it’s only for us.”

You nod, “no face. Only for you.” You tell them and Pope nods, slowly pulls out of you. “Clench baby. Keep it in.” He orders and you giggle, trying to stop his cum from pushing out of you. You frown slightly at knowing it’s gonna be a bitch to clean up but it was worth it.

Frankie smirks at the face you make as you clench down, twitching inside you even as he softens. Santiago goes to grab his phone out of his pocket and comes back over. “Pull off Fish’s cock, baby, and stick your ass out.” He orders as he opens the camera app and zooms in.

You follow his orders, lifting off of Frankie and you lean forward to display your ass and pussy to the camera. You reach behind you to spread your cheeks, giving him more of an eyeful as their cum starts to drip from inside of you.

"Fuck, you are so perfect." Pope groans, snapping several photos of the creamy mess they have made of you. "So fucking perfect." He repeats, smirking down at the screen when he gets done. Frankie hums his agreement as he watches you.

“I need to shower but I don’t think I can stand up.” You declare as you let go of your ass and shift to sit on the leather sofa, wincing at the aches already happening to your body.

Frowning slightly at your discomfort, Frankie swings his feet off the sofa and stands up, before he leans down and pulls you up into his arms with a soft grunt. He's carried grown men when he was in the Army, 300 pound packs of gear; and since getting out - hauled around heavy engine parts. Carrying you to the shower is not a big deal. "Then I'll just carry you." He tells you with a smirk.

Your eyes widen and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the shower. It’s incredibly sexy and you almost want him to fuck you again but you can’t take anymore sex right now. He sets you against the wall as he turns on the water and you bite your lip, watching him and Santi enters the shower a few seconds later. “How the hell are you two single? Holy shit. You are single?” Your eyes widen as you realize you never had that conversation with them.

Frankie snorts and Santi chuckles. "Baby, if we weren't single, we wouldn't be fucking you." He assures you quietly as Frankie reaches for the 3-in-1 body wash and the loofa that is hanging from the shower knob.

"We aren't that sleazy." Frankie adds, lathering up the loofa and kneeling down to start washing you. "Although I'm wondering when you're going to admit there was nothing wrong with your car."

You fluster, watching Frankie as he washes you, his hand tenderly sliding through your folds to wash you. “I, uh, I was going to…eventually.” You confess bashfully. “I thought - well, I didn’t want you to think I was easy or- or desperate by coming back to say I needed you to fuck me.” You admit, biting your lip.

"Don't think either one." He makes sure he cleans you gently, knowing you have to be sore and he doesn't miss the way that your hands are holding onto Pope as he leans you against him. "The sex is amazing and I'd be lying if I wasn't thrilled when you came back."

You smile, “I’m glad you think so. I- fuck. Do you think I could get regular tune ups at home? Would be nice to get a service in a bed.” You smirk, “saves me having to drive to the shop.”

Pope looks over your shoulder and down at Frankie. The other man smirks as he pushes to his feet, the loofa abandoned and his soapy hands cup your tits. "We are mechanics." Frankie teases, "we can make anything purr." He loves the way you gasp when he pinches your nipples. "Especially you."

You moan and Pope kisses your cheek, “we can make house calls.” You kiss his lips and grin, “perfect. I can’t wait to see what else you can do.” You giggle and Santi caresses your sides, “oh baby, we are just getting started.” You smirk and enjoy the way the men sandwich you between them.

“We can set you up for regular maintenance.” Frankie promises and kisses you softly. You all wash up and dry off, redressing and soon the boys are walking you to your car. “She’s good to go but we will need to check on her this weekend. Saturday?” They ask and you nod, “you have my number and address from my file. I’ll see you then boys.” You wink and gingerly get into your car. You pull out of the garage parking lot and the men watch you go.

“Best fucking tow pick up ever.” Santi slaps Frankie on the back and Catfish nods, “and we are only getting started.” The men smirk as your car makes its way down the road, several problems that need fixing soon orchestrated by the mechanics to guarantee they see you again. Even if it wasn’t necessary after all.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader x santiago garcia #frankie morales x you x santiago garcia #frankie morales x f!reader x santiago garcia #catfish x you x pope #catfish x reader x pope #catfish x f!reader x pope #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales imagine #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales smut #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut

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elvenbeard · 2 days

Text

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #Cyberpunk2077 #cyberpunk fanart #cp2077 fanart #cyberpunk 2077 fanart #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #masc v #otp: to bad decisions #art by me #screaming crying öakjshdfaasdfasfdhf #already been yelling on discord about trying to put everything into words for the past few days xDD #now I finally did it

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tenjikufag · 3 days

Note

Do you write for hsr? Can I ask for aventurine x tall top male reader? The reader is 6' 3" tall and he just can easily pick it up like 😩 If possible, I would like nsfw, but in any case, have a nice day! <3

Winner.

Aventurine x Tall!Male Reader

-smut, size difference, dom!top reader, general nsfw warning

-thank you for the request~

Aventurine was an average guy, extravagant but incredibly average at the same time.

He was know for being quite a reckless but skilled gambler, also known for his sturdy and quite intimidating tall partner and body guard, you.

You stood quite a bit taller than him, his blonde head only meeting just under your shoulders. Despite his cocky demeanour getting him in quite the.. situation at times, it was easily settled with your intimidating stature always leering over his shoulder.

And he loved it.

He adored you not only for being quite an attractive guard dog, but also how you manhandled him behind the scenes.

Just like now.

He clung to your torso and laid his chin on your shoulder, feeling the tickle of your fingers thrumming on his thighs as you carried him back to your hotel room. Well, it was basically an apartment at this point. You carried him as if he weighed nothing, securely attached like a child.. it made him excited if he had to admit..

“I’m putting you down.”

You gently placed him on his feet despite him huffing in disapproval, crossing his arms with pursed lips as you swiped the keycard to your room.

Soon as the door closed, his slim arms wrapped around your waist

“Why not reward me for the big jackpot I got for us~”

He shivered under your gaze when you looked down at him, knowing he’d piqued your interest.

A winner gets all the spoils, right?

He’s greedy, he wanted it all.

—

Aventurine whimpered, your large hands gripping his waist tightly- surely leaving a mark from every finger. Your cock was deeply buried into his ass, drilling into him at a speed that made his vision white; his head lulling against the wall you pinned him against. The males body was held up high against the wall to meet your waist and yet he could barely reach your face to kiss.

Tears welled in his eyes when your hand met his pathetic dick and started pumping it, spreading his precum all over his shaft.

You held him up with one arm and it drove him crazy, the helplessness and no opportunity to get away from the abuse his ass was getting almost made him cum immediately.

“Y-you’re too big! Slow down! Fuck!”

Biting down on his neck, he yelped and scratched at your back trying to keep his body from trembling.

“This is what you wanted though, all the spoils? You’re a winner, baby.. is your prize too big to claim?”

Grunting, you thrusted up into him, making sure to hit his prostate with every harsh singular thrust.

The male continued to gasp and moan, stupidly nodding his head at every word you said.

“Is.. too much..”

He pat your shoulder, pulling out and putting him down he fell to his knees and leaned his face onto your thigh.

“Is.. is there any other way to claim my prize?”

He huffed, his tongue trailed up your thigh and the side of his face brushed against your dick.. smirking down at him, you roughly grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Claim it however you want.”

Delicate, soft, and unworked hands pumped your dick desperately and guided it into his warm mouth. He choked on it, mix of his spit and your precum bubbling at the corners of his mouth.

Greedily he chased for your load, but you pulled him off and picked him up with ease. Throwing him onto the bed, his small body bounced against it before being pressed deep into the sheets by your weight, entering him again and making him cry out.

He bit his lip trying to keep himself from drooling, from this angle he was filled to the brim and his walls clenched on your dick greedily- your grunts like music to his ears as his eyes rolled back and he came.

Gasping again, before he could catch his breathe you flipped him on top, making him ride you.. his legs barely held him up but that was no problem- you easily picked him up from the waist and lifted him up and down on your dick, a glorified flashlight to you at this point.

Aventurine moaned endlessly, being manhandled was his biggest turn on and he was working on cumming again pretty fast.

“You want the bonus? Are you greedy enough for it?”

You felt the knot coming untied in yourself, only needing the pathetic squeak of approval from the male to blow your load deep in his ass. As soon as he felt the warm cum in his ass he pathetically came on himself and almost fell over if it weren’t for you catching him.

As the two of you caught your breathe, you gently picked him up and packed him to the bathroom to wash him up. In your arms, his lids became heavy and the warmth, the security and safety he felt in your grasp was enough for him to be lulled asleep as the bath filled up.

#aventurine x reader #Aventurine x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader

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slytherinshua · 2 days

Text

2AM CRISIS

genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...

“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.

You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.

“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you.

He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.

Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.

You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea.

You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.

“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.

“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.

The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am.

“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowly down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart.

“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.

“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.

Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit.

You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone

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i4-zuri · 2 days

Note

hello, i saw your reqs open and i wanted to ask if you could do a seokmin x reader where reader is a shy person who always listens and when they meet seokmin and he listens to their rambling and yeah, thnks in advance! :)

hi anon! thank you for requesting <3 i'm sorry this is kinda rushed + i kinda wasn't able to show readers shy demeanor lol, but i hope you like it!

comfortable with you. — lee seokmin x reader

; fluff, little angst, comfort – warnings: like 1 cuss word – wc: 1,481

note: first req ever, kinda nervous 😅i kindaa rushed it in the end,,, im sorry. BUT ANYWAYS!! i enjoyed writing this! i had so many thoughts on how i wanted to go with this, but stuck with this (kind of) short one. I hope you guys will enjoy this teww! not my best work tho

you love listening to people talking. you've always let people do the talking while you do the listening; its been in your nature since ever. they would talk, and you would hum in agreement or dispute, sometimes speaking your own thoughts. but sometimes, you wish you could just spill your unsaid thoughts to someone. but you can't, for some reason.

–

your junior year has started, new school supplies, new acquaintances, and, of course, a new seatmate. every first day of school always makes you nervous; everything is new, and by that you'd always have to introduce yourself; you hated it.

standing outside your new classroom with your other classmates, the teacher announced that she had already assigned the seating plan. you were kind of grateful, as you quite literally don't know anybody here; you got separated from your friend.

Ms. Shin, your teacher was calling your classmates one by one, then called your name, "next, l/n y/n!" you went up to her. "you'll be sitting next to lee seokmin, he's over there by the window, third row" she stated. you went in the classroom and walked to your seat, which is beside seokmin, your new seatmate. he sat at the aisle part, which left you sitting next to the window, and you were grateful for it.

you sat down and settled your bag behind your chair. honestly, you were pretty nervous because, for the first time, your seatmate was a guy. you were always seated next to girls for some reason.

"hi! i'm lee seokmin. but you can call me seokmin, or any nickname you can think of," he spoke. you quickly turned your head in his direction and just nodded, turning your head to look at the board in front. 'he's so... pretty,' you thought to yourself. it took a second until he spoke again, "what about you? what's your name?" he asked, and you turned to look at him again, quickly realizing that you haven't introduced yourself. "oh, i'm sorry! i'm l/n y/n sorry, did i come off as rude?" you replied, your voice lowering as you spoke. "ah, no, no! it's okay!" he giggled as he responded, waving his hands as a sign that it really is okay. "i'm sorry again," you said, voice low almost like a whisper. "no, i assure you it's fine! everyone gets nervous at the first day of school, even me," he stated. you just nodded, turning your head to look at your table.

your face was red in embarrassment, so much for a first impression with someone who will be next to you your whole junior year. you wished the floor could just eat you whole.

–

months into 11th grade, everyday was a struggle. there were new activities every week, mostly by partners, and you were grateful that in each partner activity, seokmin was your partner. seokmin is the most perfect partner you could ask for; he was always ready and always listened to the instructions of the activity given. you were so grateful for him; you probably wouldn't have survived first term without him.

right now, on a thursday afternoon, you and seokmin were at the library doing the essay activity given by your english teacher, a 15k word essay covering the important events and creations that happened during the renaissance, the deadline being monday. you were trying so hard not to cry as you were stuck on your third paragraph, the whole essay only having 487 words. usually you were quick with this; you love english, you always scored high on the subject. but right now, you were just not motivated enough to write properly.

"Hey, you okay there?" seokmin spoke up, noticing your distraught expression. you only hummed to his question. he was already making it easy for you; he has suggested that we should write 7,500 words each on our part to sum up the 15,000 so it would be easy. you felt bad as you were writing your part so... poorly. "we can take a break if you're stuck," seokmin suggested, "uhm, maybe i'll try to continue mine and you take a break. i wanna at least try and finish this third paragraph," you stated. "hmm, i think no!" he said cheerfully. seokmin closed his laptop, then yours. you looked at him in shock, but he just grabbed your arm, forcing you to stand up, then pulling you towards the door of the library. "s-seokmin! hey! what about our things?" you whisper-shout, "don't worry, we'll be quick!" he replied.

you kinda got used to this; whenever seokmin sensed that you were struggling or stressed, he would always do something to distract you until you were feeling okay. this time, he was pulling you in the hallways of the school, towards the exit, and then walked towards the ice cream stand near the school gate. "hello! can i get one vanilla ice cream and one chocolate ice cream? both no toppings!" seokmin said, the vendor nodded and made his order, "seokmin, i didn't bring my wallet with me." you stated, "its okay! its on me," he replied "no, i'll just pay you when we go back to the library," you said, "nu-uh, this is on me. i won't accept your payment," seokmin responded.

he's always like this. he does something nice for you, but whenever you offer to do something in return, he denies it. this is what you like about him, like as in platonically... yeah, platonically.

–

few more months in junior year, and your feelings towards seokmin kept growing, not platonically. you tried to deny your feelings, but every time you do, he does something that just makes your heart flutter.

and surprisingly enough, you've gotten so comfortable with him that each time you talked, you openly said your thoughts, even you shocked yourself. but, you still weren't comfortable enough to spill your deepest thoughts and rambles, rants you wish you'd said to the person who stressed your thoughts.

still, you were more than happy to be able to finally openly speak your thoughts, even if it weren't your deepest thoughts that hurt you. you were okay with this, you think.

–

but one day during the last 2 weeks of junior year, you were fed up. the world just kept testing and testing you, and you were so tired and just needed to rant, specifically to seokmin.

"and it's just... so fucking tiring! i don't get why they won't do their part. it's almost the end of the school year, and they're acting like this?! i'm just so..." you couldn't finish your sentence as you started to sob. seokmin looked at you with sad eyes, it hurts him to see you like this. 'why couldn't your group mates just do their job properly?' he thought. you sobbed harder as you thought about your uncooperative group mates, then seokmin hugged you.

it was the first time he physically touched you like this; usually he would tap your shoulder, pat your head, or pull your arm when he wants to show something, but hugging you? this was definitely new. but you were too tired to be shocked.

"mhm, i understand y/n." seokmin stated, you sobbed harder than before. for years in your life, you just wanted to hear those words—that someone understood you. you were always the one to listen; you never had the chance to be the one to rant as you grew used to listening. seokmin patted your back, still hugging you. it was so comforting; you wished you could stay there forever.

–

from that day on, you knew that you were super comfortable with seokmin. he's the person you trust your thoughts with the most. not a day goes by where you had to keep your thoughts to yourself anymore; you had seokmin, and he had you, of course. he was there for you, and you were there for him.

the feeling of finally being able to speak up about your deepest, unsaid thoughts and rants was so refreshing. of course, the more comfortable you got with him, the more your feelings grew too.

–

it was on recognition day when you had the courage to finally spill your heart out to seokmin. you were very nervous, but the funny thing was he beat you to it. he confessed first, leaving you shocked. of course you informed him that the feeling is mutual.

you were happy; he was too. your heart was so happy you felt like it would explode. you never have thought that you would find love this early in your life, especially with your old behavior of being shy. but seokmin was there, he was there for you in so many ways. he saved your heart and mind by letting you pour your unsaid rambles to him, and you were so grateful for him, for seokmin, who was now your lover 'till end.

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noturlondonboy · 3 days

Text

Nails on the Chalkboard of My Heart

Wenclair Oneshot

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Summary: It’s a dark and stormy night… and Wednesday decides to paint Enid’s nails in an effort to help the werewolf calm down. Fluffy confessions and silly gay girl antics ensue.

A/N: I really did love writing this one, I love blorbos painting each other’s nails. They’re so stinking cute. Enjoy!

Warnings: that good ole lesbian make out sesh don’t ya know

It was storming outside when Wednesday returned back to the dorm to find a shivering Enid tucked away under the covers. The lightning and thunder had been going raucously for about an hour now, and the walls shook from the force of the wind. Wednesday almost smiled at the rain lashing the windows.

Setting her bag on her desk, Wednesday quickly changed into her hoodie and sweats while doing her best to ignore the whimpering coming from the other side of the room. Enid never did well during large thunderstorms. She had told her as such, even explaining that she was used to handling them just fine alone, as none of her family had ever bothered to comfort her. That tidbit has nagged restlessly at Wednesday, but she brushed it off and didn’t press questions.

Now, though, after 30 minutes of sitting silently in front of her typewriter with nothing to show for it, after 30 minutes of Enid crying softly under her thick blankets all alone, after 30 minutes of “my parents had better things to do than trying to get me to stop cowering” ringing through her head in Enid’s gentle diction, something in Wednesday’s chest gave a terrible ache. She ripped the useless paper from the machine in front of her and crumpled it with one hand before tossing it in the trash bin like it had personally offended her.

Thing appeared on her desk, somehow knowing he was about to be summoned. Wednesday nodded, turning to face him. “Enid’s noise canceling headphones broke last week after Xavier’s idiotic little stunt with the lunch trays. Grab my pair from under my bed and take them to her while I clean up,” she ordered quietly, already starting to tidy her desk back to how she liked it.

Morticia and Gomez had gifted them both a set of headphones once they had heard of Enid’s ADHD. They had already been preparing to do so after Wednesday’s official autism diagnosis, but hurried the purchase in order to supply them both before the new school year.

Thing gave a little one-fingered salute and scurried off to do what he was told, jolting at the lightning but giving no protest. The girl sighed and rolled her shoulders. The crick in her neck had grown especially agonizing over the last week, and while she normally enjoyed pain, this was more annoying than anything else.

There was muffled conversation from Enid, but her sounds of distress stopped while she presumably accepted the headphones and put them on. Wednesday closed her eyes, letting out a sigh from her nose. Maybe she could pretend to stall by reorganizing her entire bookshelf for the third time, when in reality all that was happening was a mental preparation for what she was about to do.

A strike of lightning pierced the night and rattled the walls, leaving the dorm room in momentary blackness. Enid lets out a shriek, her tears evident in the warble in her throat. But like a wraith, Wednesday is by her side the moment the lights come back on, unable to stop herself from holding back.

Another yelp from the Werewolf, who jumped and scrambled back on her bed. Wednesday reached forward quickly to cradle the girl’s face and pull her closer, her knees subsequently ending up on the colorful covers.

Enid freezes, tearful eyes wide, the black headphones askew on her head. They both hold their breaths, but Wednesday is the first to move, carefully taking her roommate’s hand to pull her back properly onto her own bed. Enid only obeys, expression dizzy as it darts between the point of contact and the lack of a scowl on the Latina’s face.

Once Enid is resettled, Wednesday busies herself with going through the drawers of her nightstand and desk. Her mind is running unfortunately much quicker than she likes, but her senses sharpen with each whimper from the puppy waiting for her just feet away.

Black and pink nail polish secured in her palm, she sits with her legs crossed in front of Enid and fixes the headphones back into place. The werewolf sat stockstill, only moving to flinch at the thunder.

“I’m going to turn some music on for you, and then I’m going to paint your nails, and we’re not going to talk- understood?” Wednesday says softly, pulling her rarely used phone from her pocket and opening up Spotify. Enid seems only capable of gaping, her wet cheeks glowing pink.

Wednesday presses play on a shared playlist of theirs (which mainly consisted of very limited Kpop, Cigarettes After Sex, Melanie Martinez, and classical cello arrangements) before setting her phone aside and putting her palm out. Enid stared at it for a moment before realizing what she wanted and giving her hand over.

They both jolted once their fingers met, but Wednesday just pulled Enid’s arm closer with a gentle reverence and uncapped one of the polishes to begin painting.

Enid watched her in silent awe, ears blessedly full of something other than the thunderstorm. Wednesday worked in careful precision, stroking one finger at a time to stimulate the claws that hid under the skin so she could coat the polish on. She did it in one full stroke, because she was an Addams and did everything perfectly, her dark eyes almost warm as she waited a moment for the paint to set before moving on to the next.

There was much to be said, of course, about the colors Wednesday had chosen. Pink and black, to symbolize the two of them, in a pattern of every-other.

A crash of thunder hit Nevermore, and Enid jumped at the vibrations as they rattled the wooden boards around them. Wednesday held her hands still, her thumb drawing slow circles into her wrists until she was calm again. When another loud bang had Enid’s claws slipping out involuntarily, the result of which was a red nick in Wednesday’s skin, the goth only pressed a kiss to Enid’s knuckles to steady her (and make her blush like a volcano?? C'mon Enid get it together) instead of lashing out like the werewolf had feared.

A bright flash set the world outside momentarily ablaze. Enid flinched and curled into herself, her hands pulling away from Wednesday to ball together close to her chest. When she came back around with the gentle melody of Apocalypse soothing her sensitive ears, Wednesday was hovering close, hands shaped like she would be cupping Enid’s cheeks if she just moved forward about two inches.

Enid watched her, blinking the tears away as her heart settled, and gave herself no time to think. She leaned forward and nestled her jaw into Wednesday Addams’ palms, the wonderful touch of skin on skin melting the fear away. Dark eyes bore into baby blues, and Wednesday idly wondered what her parents would say if they saw her like this, calm and warm and making a willing effort to provide comfort to someone such as Enid.

“You’re alright,” she whispered, even as she very well knew that Enid couldn’t hear her- though the girl’s eyes darted down to read her lips. “It can’t hurt you. Not while I’m here.”

And Enid watches as she always had, cheeks warm and marveling silently as Wednesday retracted, carefully cleaning any smudged polish before reapplying the color where it was needed. Once Enid’s nails were successfully painted, Wednesday held her fingers gingerly to blow on them until they were dry. Her breath was warm, and soothed the ache in her knuckles.

The two stared at each other, Enid taking the headphones off and setting them aside. The storm had thankfully dimmed to a drizzle. The pitter patter of the raindrops was soothing and much preferred over heavy thunder and lightning.

Wednesday felt her stomach roiling at the entire interaction. Who was she, Wednesday Addams, to be painting the nails of this strange girl? Who was she to calm and to help, when all her life, she had only been a dark thing of madness? Who was she… to Enid?

Wednesday was so caught up in her head that it took her a long moment to realize that Enid’s face had melted into a mask of awed serenity, and the expression was held only for Wednesday. The werewolf watched her so intensely that Wednesday could feel the cool water of her eyes, imagining what her fingers would do if pushed through impossibly soft golden hair.

“Thank you,” Enid suddenly breathed, her heart in her throat. Something was clawing away at her lungs, stealing her breath. Her very bones seemed to ring. “Thank you,” she said again, aching and aching for Wednesday to stay, to keep touching her, to touch her more.

Somehow, Wednesday saw that want, saw right through her as she always did and always would. She cleared her throat, her mouth suddenly very, very dry, the words burning on her tongue.

“Anything you wish of me, Enid, I will do. And if it is not what you desire, then I will leave you in peace, away from my darkness and pain that trails me as if a shadow forever imprinted. But you- I can’t…” She swallowed thickly. Enid’s eyes were wide, a blush rising on her freckled cheeks. Wednesday desperately wanted to touch them. “I believe that I have fallen victim to the Addams Family curse, to love fiercely and everlastingly. I can feel it swelling within me, a heart I didn’t know I had.”

Wednesday didn’t really know what she was doing, why she was saying this. But the words had started and her chest had screamed so desperately for what it truly wanted, what it had been waiting for all this time.

“I think… that you have entranced me, utterly entranced me in every way any wicked woman could think of.” Another swallow, tightening the hold their fingers had on each other. Enid’s face was a furnace, her lips parted and heart beating furiously.

How did she respond to this? How did she explain to Wednesday that she had discovered that her darker counterpart and undying crush was her mate only weeks ago, a revelation that had sent her into a tizzy so bad she had been bedridden for hours? She wasn’t sure she even remembered how to speak.

Wednesday’s pupils were blown wide, her eyes large and dark and swallowing Enid whole. She wanted to be laid to rest in those eyes. But Wednesday heard no response, and her mind faltered. She had been so sure in that moment that her wolf would return the affection, would recognize the confession for what it was. The plea in her voice, the promise to do and be anything Enid asked.

“If you- if you do not feel the same way, Enid, I would understand, and I would not blame you. Turn me away and I would trek to the edges of the Earth if that is where you want me. But if you wish for me to stay… I am devoted to you, to your happiness, your pleasure, your mind and soul. I am caught in your beastly claws and yours to do with what you will.” And she waited, her ribs throbbing as her heart pumped blood harshly through her. Wednesday Addams laid herself out for the first time in her miserable life, completely true and bare for someone else.

How had painting nails turned into this? What could have possibly possessed her today?

Enid, in turn, was still doing her best to wrap her poor little gay head around Wednesday’s words. This was too good to be true, it- it couldn’t possibly be real. And normally if she were called beastly by anyone else, she would claw their face off. But with Wednesday calling her that… Shit. It honest to gods turned her on.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it again with absolutely no idea what to say. But… did she even really need words? Wednesday was stating this verbally because she knew it was the best way to get through to Enid. The darker girl had always shown her true feelings through actions, but to get through her thick werewolf skull, the words were easiest.

Enid thought she should return the favor. Tell Wednesday that she felt the same, show her she felt the same. That she would push herself to every possible limit for Wednesday, would do anything she ever asked, would rip her own heart out if it meant her mate would give her a rare smile.

And to show her, Enid knew there was only one option. They were in too deep- far too deep, to settle for anything less than razor sharp exactness.

Wednesday watched her with wide eyes, cheeks dark and lips parted almost grimly. There was no more room for waiting. Enid set aside the nail polish bottles, crawled forward to gently nudge her way between Wednesday's knees, and kissed her without a moment to waste.

Wednesday gasped and jolted away as her heart shrieked, lips burning furiously. She stared; Enid stared back. The werewolf looked ready to fling herself off of their balcony. But Wednesday fisted the soft blonde hair at the back of her head and pulled her forward with no small amount of desperation, reconnecting their mouths before she could let herself think.

There was another gasp, then a sigh, followed by a moan as Enid pushed into her closer until Wednesday was pressed on her back, braids messy and thrown over the bed. The wolf’s weight on her smaller body was warm and alluring, fading into the back of her mind as soft lips devoured her whole.

Gods, Wednesday had never seen so much color. It burst into fireworks over her eyelids as Enid kissed her and kissed her, a silver tongue dipping hotly into her mouth to flick over her canines and taste the cruel words Wednesday Addams preferred to so generously wield.

Enid’s heart burst in her chest as the girl beneath her responded ever so eagerly to her lips, tangling their legs together and using her cold, delicate hands to cup the werewolf’s cheeks and pull her closer, always closer, her perfect nails scratching softly at her skin just below the Hyde scars. A purr built up and tumbled out of her throat, startling Wednesday so much that she broke away, cheeks deliciously flushed and chest working hard to keep breathing.

Enid stopped too, unable to squash the mortified look on her face as the purr persisted, rumbling softly in the back of her throat. She knew if her wolf had its way, a golden tail would be wagging furiously. She would’ve died from embarrassment alone.

Wednesday’s mouth had gone slack, her obsidian eyes wide and a bit glazed as she stared so intently at Enid she might as well have been stripping her right then and there.

“I didn’t know that you could- that you would… make that noise,” she muttered, one hand moving to settle on Enid’s waist while the other stayed where it rested on her scarred cheek. Her fingertips were cold, yet left a blazing trail as they flittered like dark little mourning doves over fairer skin.

“Werewolves only purr for their mate,” Wednesday said slowly, cautiously, doing her damn best to gauge the expressions flashing over Enid’s face so quickly she could barely decipher half of them. Most depicted a horrified desire to forget the balcony and just head straight for a window. “Only- their mate.”

Enid could only stare at Wednesday, at her inky hair and adorable bangs, the freckles smattered over dark skin that was normally as pale as death but now shone red, the depthless eyes that threatened to drown her every morning when she awoke. Mate. Her mate, watching her closely as one would a spooked animal.

What was there to say? Wednesday stated the fact, because Enid truly had purred, was still purring, even as she scrambled for the words to save her sorry ass from the rejection of an Addams daughter. She was still hovering over said Addams, such a welcome shadow on her colorful bedspread.

“Am I your mate, Enid Sinclair?” Wednesday whispered, her lips barely moving as she used her hand to tug the blonde fully on top of her by her waist, the purr halted for only a second by a nervous whine. Her eyelashes fluttered, and a smirk- no, a grin- tipped the corners of her mouth up until perfect teeth almost showed through those taunting lips.

Taunting lips that Enid wanted to kiss again very, very much.

Wednesday repeated her question, her words almost slurred as she breathed them. There was something on her face, in the lines of her cheekbones and the dip of her chin, the curve of her jaw, that spoke of something dangerous. Insatiable. Enid couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

But as soon as she came up with it -hunger- she let out a low whimper and somehow pressed impossibly closer until her warmth was Wednesday's warmth, until her breath was Wednesday’s breath. “Yes,” she whispered, begged, might as well have screamed for what that one word did.

Wednesday Addams surged up to capture the wolf’s lips in her own and throw her off balance in order to straddle her waist, the words melting into their mouths.

Words they never really needed to say.

Not that Enid would even know how to speak in the first place, after Wednesday had her way with her.

#Wednesday #Wednesday Addams #Enid #Enid Sinclair #Wenclair #sapphic #queer #lesbian #fanfic #fanfiction #wlw #gxg #Addams family #fluff #angst?#I love them so much

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seungsuki · 3 days

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my you - he remembers you over a song (gn! reader)

warning: sae being down bad

note: i was listening to jungkook and decided to write lol. also i sneaked in rin from this fic i wrote

itoshi sae, japan's boy genius, wandered the vibrant streets of madrid. spain became his second home. he was often told how he would sometimes smell like the spanish spices whenever he visited back japan. the warm sun shone the cobblestone he stepped on as he made his way around the little bustling market. he had nothing better to do so visiting the market helps take his mind off things

the prodigy let his eyes wander around the bright lights and his ears tuned into a familiar tune. why did it sound so… home? snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at his corner left to see a man with a guitar. the street performer was strumming his guitar, singing a melody that tugged sae’s hopeless heart. my you. a song that dearly connected him to his lover

sae didn’t realise when he fell into his own train of thoughts. the memory lane looked so clear to him and he didn’t hesitate to enjoy the times when life was simpler. he recalled the younger versions of him and you. there you were, sitting on his family’s balcony, wrapped around a big sweater and a guitar in your hand. little rin was sitting not to far with his pile of mangas and his girlfriend peeking over his shoulders to see the pages

“sae! you’re back early!”, you cheered waving at the boy who dropped his duffle bag to sit beside you

“yeah”, he replied

“i were just chilling here with my guitar and these two”, you motioned at the duo who seemed absorbed in his own world

“you really do like them”, sae noted

“they reminds me of my own sibling”, you reminisced

“he’s still not well?”, sae asked, referring to your younger brother

“he’s hanging on”

a silent gap came along. you didn’t want to talk about your sick brother or else you’d start tearing up. sae visited him as often as he could to keep the younger boy happy. you were relieved to know that rin took a liking for your younger brother and often asked you to let him go with you. you strummed your guitar to the tune that you listened to by heart. it was your comfort song.

“네 번의 계절 또다시”

sae looked over to you in confusion. you were speaking korean? he knew you were a master in languages but he never got around to ask you about it

“더 짙어지게 또다시”

rin hummed along with it. he too was familiar with this song. his girlfriend was an avid fan of jungkook so he was forced to listen to it. he looked over to his lover and she couldn’t help but giggle before reminding him of her favourite song, euphoria

“내가 미소를 짓는 이유도”

your honey voice made the song even more special. sure he didn’t understand but he presumes the words mean something deep considering your teary eyes. it was almost like the world stopped just for him to listen to you

“이 노랠 부를 수 있는 것도”

you stopped. you couldn’t continue. sae locked his eyes with you to read your emotions but you seemed to be lost in your thoughts

the older itoshi was brought back to reality after realising he was staring at the street performer for too long. the performer didn’t dare to make eye contact with the player and continue singing away his heart. maybe the face made might have scared him?

sae couldn’t care. his heart was hurting. it was hurting so badly, he could imagine himself crying. he’s homesick. he misses everyone and it hurts. he wants to smell his mothers cooking, see his father read the newspaper, apologise to rin for being a jerk but most importantly, he wants to see you in person.

no amount of facetime can make him feel better. he craves for your physical touches and kisses. sae never imagined himself being so down for you. you may have fallen first but he fell harder. listening to his heart, his hands slowly reach to his phone as he loads the japan airline website

maybe he can tolerate going back to that shitty country he had to call home but he knew where his actual home was. he begins imagining you standing at the airport with open arms for him. he falls weak into your soft hug without bothering to entertain the paparazzi. he just wants you

it seems faith was finally looking good for the pro player as he sees your name flashing on his phone screen. he quickly threw in a few coins to the street performer’s guitar bag, to which the latter tilted his hat in appreciation

“hey, are you busy?”

oh, that voice that made him melt on the spot. he felt his heart easen as he lightly coughed before answering you

“no, i'm just walking around. you?”, he asks

“i just drove rin to his training camp. what was it called, blue lock?”, you tried remembering

“blue lock? never heard of it”, sae sighed

“you sound down… everything okay, prodigy?”, you teased

“shut up- i’m coming home”, sae cut himself off and got to the point

“no way!! that’s great! is it because you miss me so much huh?”, he swears he could see you smirking over the voice call

“my passport expired so i had to come back”, sae groaned at your antics

“i gotta go but i have something to say”, you said

“네 곁이기에 감사해”

huh? he pulled away his phone from his ear to see that you cut the call right after saying that he knew what you said. he already recognised that word. it was so familiar to him now. a ghost smile threatened to break on his face

“i’m thankful to be by your side too.. [name]”

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sunshineandspencer · 24 hours

Text

Glorified Assistant

A/N: This is more for Maeve and Spencer!! And honestly I hate writing enemies to lovers, I believe in makeout on sight, so enjoy me trying to make a believable hatred.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.

Summary: She’s been given paid leave to basically be Spencer’s assistant, and it almost isn’t worth it.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™

Here is more of Maeve and Spencer.

Maeve thought she was home and free.

She hadn’t been fired (score!), and now Spencer was going away for his mandated thirty days off. Apparently he was doing some teaching at the local college, good for him, it also means they won’t have to interact and hopefully he gets his head out of his ass so that she doesn’t cry when they work together.

They’d left on a particularly sore note, considering that she’d been the one to drive him home and he made it very clear how much he hated the entire interaction.

Of course, he didn’t say a word, struggling to fit into her little, gorgeous dark blue mini and then clenching white-knuckled to his knees for the entire journey. He, actually, didn’t say a thing until he got out of the car, slamming the door shut and turning to scowl at her.

“You’re a fucking maniac. Take some more damn lessons.”

As he stormed off into his apartment, annoyingly only five minutes from her own building, she grumbled under her breath. She’d only grazed maybe one curb, and that wasn’t even her fault, it jumped out at her.

Whatever, she’d been able to sleep easy knowing that she wouldn’t have to see him for several more weeks, giving her time to prepare.

…

Until she was woken by her phone ringing at 5am, answering it blindly because she’s used to work calling her at stupid hours. It was her boss.. however, she was asked to take thirty days of paid leave - which she’s surprised the Bureau can even afford - to be the one to take Spencer too and from the college and just kind of shepherd him around for whatever he needed.

Apparently his car, old and vintage as it was, had been idle for too long and wouldn’t start. Since Spencer can’t be bothered to sort it out, and Maeve lives closest, and she’s his partner, obviously this falls to her to deal with.

Maeve, forever a pushover and unable to say no to any figure of authority, agreed and practically threw her phone across the room when she was done.

Understandably, she didn’t get any more sleep, getting ready for the day with the only solace that he looks like an idiot in her car. Making them both a coffee and putting them into her reusable travel cups, trying not to listen to the little voice telling her to drive into a wall.

After about ten minutes of calling him and getting no answer, she gets out of her illegally parked car and storms up. Although it’s really hard to storm anywhere in an elevator.

Hammering on his door, it took all of two seconds before it flew open and he barged past her, causing her to scowl over at him.

“Damn! Watch it! What’s your problem today?”

He barely looked at her, locking the door behind her as he struggled with a bunch of papers in his hands. A harsh frown on his face that matched his equally-pissed voice.

“Fucking coffee machine broke.”

“I got you one already, Christ..” Sucking in a breath and following after him as he goes for the stairs, thankfully he only lives on the third floor. “What’s with the papers?”

Spencer went ahead of her on the stairs, and she found herself rushing after him and his stupidly long legs. Cursing him with all the colourful words that she knows on her way after him.

“Car insurance, I’m driving today.”

Insurance? He got insured on her car without telling her? All to avoid her driving. This man is a level of petty that teenage girls aspire to be, and she has to resist the urge to pout as she trailed out of the building after him.

“But why? My driving wasn’t--”

“Stop asking so many questions and get in your little clown car.”

Quietly fuming, she didn’t even thank him as he held open the passenger door for her, sliding into the seat and picking up her coffee. Drinking it and trying to squash the thoughts of throttling him.

As he gets into the driver seat and immediately starts rearranging everything, her mirrors, seat, radio, she wonders just how long it would take for someone to realise that he’s missing.

Before he even drove off, gripping the wheel far too hard for her liking, he spoke lowly and glared ahead. As if he was stopping himself from glaring at her.

“Don’t come up to my apartment again. I will come to you. I expect you to be ready by six thirty, and since you have a working machine, you can make the coffees.”

“.. just drive already.”

She’s going to kill him by the end of this.

Considering she got paid to leave to, essentially, be Spencer’s glorified assistant, she decided to make the most of it.

Plus, annoyingly, his lectures are actually pretty interesting - as much as she tried to stop giving a shit. Between running to get him more coffees, again assistant, and handing out things to the students, she gets to sit and just listen to him talk about whatever content he chooses.

Psychopaths, mainly, their brains and behaviours, which she enjoyed immensely when she studied psychology and criminology. Damn, but.. he’s really good to listen to.

By the third lecture of the day, she was sat at the desk to the side of the platform, usually reserved for teaching assistants, scribbling in a pretty lilac notebook she bought from the student store. Taking actual notes for his lecture, thoroughly enjoying the content of the lecture and not the fact that it’s Spencer.

Spencer had noticed, immediately, of course, and hated it.

He doesn’t know what she’s hoping to achieve, or prove, because it definitely isn’t impressing him, and he can’t fathom the idea that she’s doing the work to just do the work. Why would she, after he’s purposely been an ass to her purely for existing.

There’s no way she’s actually just paying attention.

So, to test her, for his own morbid curiosity and the need to try and embarrass her in front of all these people, he decided it would be fun to throw random questions to her. Not even related to the topic he was covering. To him, she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to handle stress well.

As he proposed hypothetical questions to the students, he turned to Maeve with a grin on his face, which she finds much more unnerving than a scowl. Hands clapping together as he brought all the attention onto her.

“And for my.. assistant.” Oh, yeah, she absolutely hates that, even more than his smug little grin. “What are the disadvantages of Mary Ainsworth’s study when examining infant attachment?”

Now it was time for her own smug little grin to settle on her lips, which he certainly didn’t like the implications of.

It was clear that he hadn’t expected her to know the answer, or even have enough of a knowledge base to even remotely know what he was talking about. Thankfully she had always been a pushover, and when her friends begged for her to sit in on their presentations in college, she learnt a lot. Especially the ones who presented developmental psychology.

Also, a few times she opted to speak in front of lectures purely because she felt bad for the lecturers when no one would volunteer, which meant she was quickly forced to grow out of her fear of public speaking. Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, getting comfortable.

“Mary Ainsworth was American. And she made an American based model, off American children and families, testing it solely in America. It cannot be generalised to other countries.”

“But-”

He tried to cut her off, but she wasn’t done yet. That wasn’t nearly enough to feel like she’d finally won something between them.

“And. When it was, by Kroonenberg and Ijzendoorn, it was proven to have terrible generalisation. Because other cultures and countries have very different ways of rearing children that don’t fit her American guidelines.”

Spencer looked like he wanted to vault the desk and strangle her, and if it weren’t for the crowd of whispering students, he probably would’ve done. Giving him a soft smile, which only he knew was completely fake, she picked her pen back up and tapped her notebook.

“If that’s all, Doctor Reid, I was enjoying your lecture on psychopathic brains.”

And as she looks back down, he has to force himself to continue lecturing to curb the rumours he can hear being created by suddenly-dejected female students. Trying not to sigh at the knowledge that people are going to think they’re sleeping together.

Throwing one last glare her way, not even needing his profiling to know that she so gets off on calling him ‘Doctor Reid’. The simultaneous irritation and begrudging admiration was making him dizzy, wanting nothing more to chuck something at her head.

Whatever, on the way home, he’ll take the longest route he knows to run her petrol down to nothing. Anything to get another mental tally on their growing rivalry.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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sarahowritesostucky · 14 hours

Text

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 7129

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

12. Pôt de crème

Mary

That day really winds up feeling like the epitome of a terrible horrible, no good, very bad fucking day for Mary, and it starts early. Leaving the apartment for work after the massage cocktease from Hell is odd.

She’s left feeling happy to have helped, but also hurt, disappointed, and mad at herself, of all things. That was the perfect opportunity for her to make a move and finally force those two to tell her that they’re not interested! (Though a small and pitifully thirsty part of her brain still exists in the fantasy land where they’d take her up on it.) But she’d chickened out and kept it strictly platonic. Ugh. Lame.

She manages not to think about it for a while, as she gets into the rhythm of her day at the bakery. She still can’t shake the cloud of anxiety and irritability looming over her, though. The good old days of any lasting effects from Bucky’s drops are gone, and instead she’s left to slowly percolate a bad mood as she clocks in and figures out the best order to get her projects done for that day.

Dennis is the manager on schedule, which sucks because Mary’s never liked him, but he’s in the office for the most part, since he’s a stuck up do-nothing, and she's able to pretend that she’s alone.

No matter though. She can’t focus on anything, feels overly emotional, and almost breaks out in tears when she drops a tray of cupcakes on the floor. She manages to hold it together as she cleans up the mess, and moves onto the next task. Her list for the day now feels miserably long, and she doesn’t even enjoy decorating the base-iced babycakes that are waiting for her from yesterday. She fucks up the writing on one of them and loses her shit over something that is not worth losing her shit over. That’s the stupid thing that finally pushes her to tears, and she tosses her piping bag angrily onto the counter, what the fucking herself and feeling like she’s going crazy.

Like baseball, there’s no crying in kitchens: That’s what the walk-in’s for. So, she hides back by the dairy products until she’s able to pull herself together. She comes out shivering, not crying, and in a horrible mood.

Buttercream is next, so she gets the sugar boiling and the egg whites whisking in the forty quart. She tries to talk herself up in her head as she goes through motions of streaming in the sugar and then scaling the butter she’ll add to it once it’s whipped cool. “You’re not bad at your job,” she mumbles to herself, trying to push the threat of tears away with positive thoughts. “You’re not.”

Jesus fuck, why is she feeling like this? Nothing that bad has even happened! So she dropped some fucking cupcakes, so what? It happens. She checks her phone to see if she’s about to get her period, but that’s not it. Her focus is shit, so of course she eventually goes back to thinking about Bucky and Steve.

Today is Bucky’s day off. Mary thinks about him being in pain that morning and how his movements had been crippled by pain. … She thinks about his broad, muscled back under her hands, his warm skin, the moans of relief he’d given whenever she worked out a knot. Poor guy. Even though she hates to think of enduring it again, she has to admit to herself that she does care about Bucky, and she would endure it if he needed her help. Hell, if it’s something that’ll help him in the long run, she’ll have to do at least one or two more massage sessions to teach Steve the ropes so he can help his husband in her absence.

Bucky doesn’t want her to do it. She pouts about that, but scolds herself as soon as she realizes she’s doing so. Don’t be lame over guys who don’t want you. So Bucky and Steve just want to be gay together in peace, so what? Why is she losing her shit over the tiniest rejection like this?!

She ruminates on it while she’s at the stove stirring a massive batch of pôt de crème custard, and it occurs to her that the part she’s actually most upset about isn’t their platonic feelings for her: it’s her own lack of bravery and straightforwardness with Bucky and Steve, and how she’s become such a pathetic wallflower over the past few months.

Maybe if she’d flat out asked about a romantic relationship from the beginning, she could’ve gotten the rejection out of the way and been putting herself out there to meet someone new by now. She might’ve met a Dom at one of the Center’s socials, or at least could’ve been swiping the apps and going on dates. Getting laid.

But instead suddenly she’s turned into a shy girl (obnoxious). She hasn’t been a virgin since college, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t sleeping with whoever she could get her hands on, back before Steve and Bucky 'adopted' her. She’d been so good at it back then, saying what she meant and going for what she wanted, dragging at least one new guy back to her place to fuck every other week. Why can’t she just do something now?

Frowning, she decides that she will do something over it. The ideal would be to move back to her own place, but she can’t with the custody order in place and Dr. Linda on Bucky’s side. Gritting her teeth, she figures she’ll do the next best thing: she’ll start getting laid again. She’ll go out and meet people. She’ll go out straight after work each day. Unless he wants to physically tie her up and keep her prisoner in the apartment, Bucky can’t stop it.

She’s just got to work up the nerve to break his rules like that. Nerve which, in her current mood, seems quite out of reach. She sighs and reaches up to grab the Grand Marnier off the shelf for the pôt de crème. All she feels like doing now is going back to the apartment and crawling into bed, to be honest. She wonders if this is what actual clinical depression feels like. Maybe. Maybe worse. Sarcastically, she thinks that a shot or three of alcohol would certainly help, and then she pauses with her hand on the bottle as she’s about to pour it into the custard. Oh.

She’s not drinking anymore.

Fuck. That’s it. She’s hardly ever had sex sober in her life. Barely ever even flirted without some liquid courage in her system. That’s what’s changed. She always used pick up guys in bars, or at other places where everybody had a drink in their hand. And at home at her apartment, whenever the creeping buildup of anxiety and irritability would get to be too much, a couple vodka sprites were what made her feel better. She pauses in her stirring. Thinking about it now is making her almost physically yearn for a stiff one.

She looks down at the bottle in her hand, shame coloring her cheeks as soon as she has the thought. Even at her worst, Mary never drank on the job. She grimaces at herself and hurriedly sets the bottle back on the shelf before temptation can win out, then turns back to the stove.

“Fuck!” she hisses, scrambling to turn off the burner when she’s met with the sight of lumpy pôt de crème. She whisks it frantically to try and stop it, but it’s too far gone: The eggs in the custard have curdled. She throws her head back and groans. “God dammit!”

She makes a last ditch effort to save it by dumping the lumpy custard into a Cambro, tossing in a few ice cubes, and furiously burr-mixing it with the immersion blender, but it’s no use. She’s irrevocably ruined a massive batch of dessert (with the expensive liqueur already added in it, to boot) because she wasn’t paying attention. Growling, she dumps it all in the trash bin before Dennis can happen to walk by and see, then stomps back to the fridge to grab ingredients to rescale the recipe.

She lines up sheet trays of paper dessert cups on her workstation table for decanting … and takes one cup with her over to the stove while she stands there and cooks the second batch of pôt de crème.

It’s when she’s stirring and pouring that second measure of liqueur into the pot that she gives into impulse and pours a shot’s worth of the stuff into the extra paper baking cup—that she now realizes she brought over for this express purpose in the first place. She gives the empty kitchen a furtive glance, and tosses it back. “Ugh.”

Orange flavored liqueur? Really Mary?

She hears the rebuke in Bucky’s voice in her head, which is annoying and drives her to repeat the action once she’s drank the first. She tosses back a second. Gross gross gross. She checks the label on the bottle: 40% ABV. Good. She puts the bottle back on the shelf, pissed about feeling so uncomfortable in her skin that she stubbornly refuses to feel guilty over her actions, and finishes cooking the custard to a smooth nappé this time. Perfect.

She pours the custard over the white chocolate and lets it melt. She burr mixes it, strains it. Ready to go.

Later maybe she’ll feel bad about it, but as she grabs the sauce gun and begins the tedious process of dispensing the pôt de crème into the cups, that warm, pleasant feeling of a buzz starts to creep up on her, and she finds herself in a better mood before long. Things seem brighter, and she finally feels like she can breathe. She’s able to think about Bucky and Steve without feeling like a piece of dirt, and even laughs about the stupid massage episode. Two shots of liqueur on an empty stomach makes that seem like not such a big deal, and she simply decides that she won’t volunteer for massage duty anymore, because obviously it was a mistake. She’d liked helping Bucky to feel better when he was hurting, but not enough to make up for having to endure the very non-platonic swooping in her belly she’d gotten from having her hands all over his naked back. Fuck, is he ever hot. Both of them are. They’re bodies are just, guh.

She doesn’t need that frustration in her life.

She’s got a moderate buzz by the time she finishes her next project, and she cheerfully bops onto her next task.

It’s such a relief, not having that heavy feeling of anxiousness and general uncomfortability weighing down on her. Jeez, she hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten. She forgot how much a few drinks helped. She gets giddy and chases that feeling, quickly sneaking another quick shot (this time of the rum they use on the rum buns, though, because it really was gross that she drank that liqueur straight—blecgh). What’s one more quick drink in between batches of cakes going in and out of the oven, after all?

… And then just once more, after she’s added the last chunk of the butter into the whipping forty quart. By the time she’s got everything set out to basic-build the next bunch of babycakes, she’s in a great mood. It’s almost as good as the subspace had been, back in the beginning with Bucky. She hums songs under her breath and moves around the kitchen assembling and icing the cute little five inch cakes that are her specialty.

It’s her pet project, something she’d suggested to Mr. Flaherty, the bakery’s owner. Not only are they friggin’ adorable, they’re easy to bang out a bunch of them all at once, small enough to cost pennies to make, and big enough and cute enough that people are willing to pay way more than the cakes are actually worth. Mary knows for a fact that they have the highest profit margin of any item in the bakery. She’s privately very proud that Mr. Flaherty had listened to her idea and decided it was something they would offer on the regular menu. Dennis had underplayed it—like the jealous killjoy he is.

Mary celebrates her good mood with another teeny sip of booze and then spends extra effort on smooth-icing in all the best pastel colors, thinking that today is a great day and can only get better from here.

Wrongo bongo.

“What the heck!”

“Oh, shit,” Mary hisses, running into the back when she smells burning bread and hears her manager’s voice calling out. Sure enough, Dennis is there, oven mitts in hand, angrily sliding a tray of blackened croissants onto the speed rack, and going back to the oven to pull out another. There are six trays of ruined croissants, and Mary grimaces “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Dennis ignores her until he’s finished pulling out all the wasted product, and when he’s done, he lays her out. “This isn’t fucking Panera Bread,” he tells her angrily. “We’re a mom and pop bakery. Profit margins are slimmer than slim!”

Mary cringes. “I know, I know, I’m sor—”

“How much money did you just cost us?” Dennis demands, hands on his hips. “Huh? Tell me. I want you to stand there and think about it and tell me how much.”

Mary stares for a second, then realizes that he’s dead serious. Humiliated, she licks her lips and does the math: 6 trays of 10 = 60 croissants, 60 x $4 per ganache-stuffed croissant, minus about $30 ingredients cost. It takes her longer than it normally would, since she’s been drinking, but when she’s worked it out she winces and looks down in shame. “I dunno … A little over two hundred, I guess.”

Dennis flails his hand holding the oven mitts. “We can’t afford to have you ruining hundreds of dollars of profit, Mary. Get it together.”

She frowns, indignant. “I was up front helping a customer,” she defends.

“That’s what the oven timer is for.”

“I know that. I just forgot to—”

“You’re forgetting a lot of things lately.” He gestures angrily at the trays of blackened croissants. “I’ve tried to help you. I gave you time off to get your shit together when your boyfriend came in and told me about your mental condition.”

Mary grits her teeth. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Dom, dungeon master, whatever,” he says nastily. “I don’t know what you people get up to. But I’ve given you a lot of chances cause you’re apparently dealing with some shit. I can’t keep doing that forever if you keep costing this place money.”

Mary glares and steps up closer, getting in his face. “Maybe if you actually hired someone for front of house on Tuesdays, then I could actually focus back here!”

Dennis’ expression changes suddenly. He narrows his eyes at her and leans in closer. “What’s that?” he says, deathly quiet.

Mary huffs. “I said, you need to hire more—”

“You smell like alcohol.”

Everything comes to a stop as his words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Oh, fuck. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “What?” She scowls like that’s absurd, about to say something to deny it, but the words die on her lips when she sees the way Dennis is looking at her. He knows. Mary feels sick.

Dennis’ expression darkens further. “Are you drinking on the job, Mary?”

“No!” (what’s she supposed to do, tell the truth?)

“I don’t believe you.” He squares his jaw. “I’m calling Mr. Flaherty in.”

“What?!”

“Two hundred dollars of wasted product? Drinking on the job?” He’s already walking over to the wall phone and picking it up. When he looks back in Mary’s direction, there’s a gleam in his eyes. Fucker never did like her. “I told him I thought you had a drinking problem, and now I have proof.”

“You don’t have shit!” Mary cries. She’s actually panicking though, as she watches him dial the number to call the bakery’s owner.

“I have the security cameras,” he says, looking vindictively pleased. “We’ll check them. You’re gonna be out of a job.”

Mary stands there and watches in horrified disbelief as Dennis calls Mr. Flaherty and tells him that he needs to have a word with him in person that afternoon about “something serious.” He doesn’t give details, and when the call ends and he hangs up the phone, he shoots Mary a smug look. “I’ll work the register so that you can finish your shift back here and not make any more stupid mistakes.”

Mary scoffs, panicked and angry and sick to her stomach with what’s happening. “No way! Forget it!” She hurries to untie her apron and yank it off. “I’m not gonna stick around here for you to lie and get me fired. I quit!” She tosses the apron to the floor and stalks back to grab her purse from the office, too panicked to think straight. She cannot stay there and see poor old Mr. Flaherty watch video evidence of her drinking on the job. He’s always been so nice to her, and now she’s betrayed him and fucked everything up. She’s just ruined the only job she’s ever liked.

Dennis is getting less and less angry and more gleeful about it. “Bye bye, Hot-Mess Mary,” he sneers. “Don’t bother coming back. We’ll mail you your last paycheck. Have a nice life.”

“Fuck you, Dennis!” she yells, though her voice comes out choked with emotion. She shoulders her purse and whirls around before there’s any chance of him seeing her tearing up. She hurries for the back door that leads out to the alleyway. It's heavy and metal, and she shoulders it open with a grunt, stepping out. “Jealous prick,” she says, only to hear him laugh meanly and call out from inside,

“Jealous? Of you? An alcoholic pervert?”

The heavy back door slams shut before she can answer, and there’s no handle on the outside. It takes approximately two point five seconds for her to burst out crying.

Steve

“Fuck, Honey, ugh.”

Steve digs his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass and shuffles closer on his knees. On the couch (whose cushions have since been put back into place), Bucky parts his legs even farther and Steve takes him in deeper. His other hand keeps nudging the toy that’s buried in his husband’s ass—the glass p-spot toy, because unlike Steve, Bucky loves firmness but hates vibrations up there. Steve’s been gently fucking him with it, nudging it against his prostate again and again, having found the perfect angle. Every grunt and moan that he gets out of Bucky has his own cock throbbing in his underwear, but he isn’t touching himself, is devoting every ounce of his attention to resolving the “problem” that Mary’s massage left Bucky with.

“You know,” Bucky says, voice a little breathy as he speaks between groans. “I’m never gonna—nnh. Never gonna look at this couch again without thinking of her oily hands sliding all over my back."

Steve hums in agreement, the sound reverberating around Bucky’s cock and pulling another hiss from him. Steve pops off to glance upwards. “Me too,” he says, and they share a look of heated yearning, before he shakes it off and sinks his mouth back down on Bucky’s throbbing length.

He’s been dragging it out, having fun with it. But now it’s gotten sloppy and wet, and Steve’s jaw aches, and he really wants to make Bucky come so he can finally get a hand around himself. He hums around Bucky’s cock once more while he still can, then takes him all the way to the hilt, nose pressing into his pubes and throat spasming around the head.

“Oh! shit …” Bucky’s fingers dig sharply into Steve's scalp. His hips stutter up of their own accord, making Steve choke a little, but he soldiers on. Bucky makes a helpless little sound that is very close to a whimper, and which has Steve’s belly pulling tight with arousal. “Close, Baby. So close, fuck …”

Steve purposefully chokes himself, letting it hit the back of his throat again and again, swallowing compulsively. It gets him what he wants, which is for this blowjob to be over.

Above him, Bucky slumps further on the cushions and groans long and low, the tortured moan letting Steve know that he’s cresting that edge. He pulls back to suck hard on the head, abandoning the toy to the clenching of Bucky's ass so he can stroke him through it. He hums happily when he feels the pulse of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, the hot spurts of cum, the clenching of thighs muscle beneath his hands. Fuck, it’s sexy.

Having been with the man for so long, Steve knows exactly when to ease off. He gentles his touch and stops sucking. He waits with Bucky’s softening cock in his mouth, not pulling off until the hands that were gripping him desperately a moment ago smooth gently through his hair in gratitude. Steve pulls off, keeps his mouth closed, doesn’t swallow. Bucky’s flushed and wet cock falls onto his belly, gorgeously swollen and spent. Steve’s staring at it covetously when Bucky gives a long, shaky exhale from above, tapering off in a satisfied groan. “Stevie,” he sighs happily. “Mmhh. Fuck. C’mere.”

He pulls Steve up onto the couch, not satisfied until he’s got him in his lap. Steve straddles him and smiles with his mouth still closed. “Good boy,” Bucky whispers, reaching up to gently cup the front of his neck. His eyes are heavy lidded but still heated as he strokes his thumb over Steve’s windpipe. He loves to watch Steve swallow his cum, and that’s why Steve hasn’t yet, is waiting for his signal. He’s very good at making a show of it: dragging it out, eye contact, showing the load on his tongue if Bucky wants, swallowing slowly and obviously; really turning it into an act of obedience for his husband.

He’s surprised when Bucky doesn’t tell him to swallow. “Hold it,” he says instead, confusing Steve. Bucky grins devilishly and reaches down between their bodies. He returns with the glass toy in hand and holds it up. “Get it wet," he purrs.

And Steve’s entire body goes stiff as he re-remembers that he’s married to the filthiest man on the fucking planet.

Steve must be filthy too, though, because a massive wave of arousal sweeps through him as Bucky holds up the toy with a dirty smirk and commands him to wet it up—with his own cum. Steve almost feels lightheaded from how all the blood rushes to his cock and away from his brain. He groans through his mouthful of cum, and Bucky’s lips curl. “You heard me. Do it.”

He looks down and aims, letting his mouthful of cum slide out onto the tip of the glass toy that was buried in Bucky’s ass not ten seconds ago. It’s obscene, filthy, and that only makes his belly swirl that much harder as Bucky uses his flesh fingertips to spread the cum around lazily, coating the clear glass with his own sticky cum. “Good,” he praises, still smirking at Steve through half lidded eyes. “Now, put it in.”

Steve groans and takes the toy from him. They haven’t done prep, but it’s a small, slim toy, and he knows it’ll slide in easily with the help of his husband’s own jizz slicking the way. Jesus Christ. He starts to move, intending to take his underwear off, but Bucky stops him with an amused shake of the head.

“Uh uh. Just pull ‘em aside and put it in. Keep your briefs on.”

“Fuck.” He listens, reaching back to pull his underwear to the side and press the head of the toy to his rim. He works it inside, eyelids fluttering when it pops past the muscle and glides in smoothly. “Oh,” he sighs, letting his underwear snap back and shifting his hips to feel the stretch against his rim, the heavy curve of it settling into place against his prostate. “Fuck.” He starts rocking his hips in tiny motions to work it inside him, barely-there sounds of pleasure escaping him each time it does. “Ooh, Buck,” he breathes. He doesn’t realize his eyes have closed until Bucky startles him with a kiss, growling and tugging him in close by the back of the neck. “Mmph!”

Their lips clash in a harsh, demanding kiss, Bucky taking possession of it and gripping the back of his neck hard to keep him still. Steve pants and whines and takes it, hips juddering forward to grind his aching dick against Bucky’s stomach. Each dominating swipe of Bucky’s tongue into his mouth makes him ache for more. “Buck,” he pants, right against Bucky's lips, where he's shamelessly kissing his messy mouth. “Baby, oh, please?”

“Yeah?” His hand cups Steve from over his underwear, squeezing the line of his erection. “You’re so fucking amazing, you know that?” he husks, dipping under the waistband to curl his fingers around him. “Make me feel so good, fuck, I love you.”

Steve moans and rests his forehead on Bucky's naked shoulder, looking down to watch. He whines when he sees that it’s the metal hand—which he already knew by feel, but the sight of it is a whole other level of hot. Steve thinks of it like a knife kink, or a gun kink: seeing something so steely and dangerous that close to him, wrapped around and working him, giving him pleasure. The sight of all that black and gold metal on his cock makes his belly clamp down hard in need. “Oh fuck, ” he breathes. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah, Sweetheart.” Bucky kisses his ear and breathes hotly against him as he pumps and twists his hand, going tight just the way Steve likes. It’s messy from the precum that Steve’s dick keeps blurting out, and he whimpers at the soft, wet sounds it begins making. “I know,” Bucky whispers. “You get so worked up. I love that. Big fat cock n’ balls, but you wet up for me just like a girl, dontcha' Sweetheart? Bet you started right down there on your knees, too. Hard and leaking just from sucking me off, making a mess in your panties.” Steve groans in embarrassment and Bucky snickers. “Aw, don’t try to deny it. I saw that boner when you crawled on up here. Saw the wet spot on those tighty-whities, too.” Playfully, he snaps the elastic band of Steve’s underwear against his hip. “You get off on it. Pretty little cocksucker.”

Steve humps into his fist, which between how slick it is and how tightly Bucky’s gripping him, feels fucking amazing. “Nnuhh,” he moans, “I get off on you. You were so—fuck, mmph—so hard when she left. I f-felt bad for you.”

Bucky growls and strokes faster. “Don’t be patronizing, baby. I saw the state she left you in. At least I had the excuse of getting rubbed down.” He snickers lowly and presses another kiss to Steve's ear. “She wasn’t even touching you.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tightly, as he recalls the image of Mary sitting on the bed with Bucky, rubbing his naked back with her oiled hands—Her tiny oiled hands, that would look so good on their cocks. Fuck, he’s going to come embarrassingly fast. He pants, trying to get words out. “I—nuhh, oh. I wanted to—mmm …”

Bucky bites his earlobe. “Wanted to what? Tell me.”

“Wanted to watch her give you a happy ending,” he grunts. “Tell you to turn over n’ watch her jerk you off.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asks, voice dark and interested. “Mm. You miss women.” Steve whines and nods in lieu of an answer. “Well maybe we’ll get a girl sometime. A special treat. Have a threesome like we used to. Take turns fucking her. Maybe I’ll even have her fuck you with a strap-on.” Steve moans and kisses him dirtily, and Bucky reciprocates, hand leaving Steve’s cock so he can hold his jaw with both hands.

Steve whimpers and his hips keep moving, chasing the friction that isn’t there anymore. “Buck,” he breaks off from the kiss to beg. “Please. Please. I need to cum.”

Bucky smiles and takes pity on him, but he switches up his hands, using the flesh one on Steve’s cock so that he can squeeze even more, really wringing up hard and thumbing under the head on every stroke. Steve sobs and sits back, bracing on Bucky’s shoulders and watching himself fuck into clench of his fist. “Yeah,” he moans. “Oh, God. Fuck yeah, just like that.”

“How’s that toy feel?” Bucky reaches his other hand underneath and taps against the glass toy’s base a few times— ‘tap, tap, tap,’ —humming in satisfaction when Steve cries out and ruts desperately into his fist. “Ooh,” he goads. “It feels that good, huh?” Tap, tap, tap. “It that gonna make you cum?”

“Nnnh.” Steve nods tightly, hips working hard. “Yeah, oh. Yeah. M’gonna. Ohgn…””

His balls draw up tight and his cock jerks when Bucky takes hold of the toy’s base and starts slowly pulling it out. That feeling against his rim is what does it, pushing him over the edge and making the pleasure coalesce and snap.

He cries out sharply as he shoots, his body straining and hips pulsing, ribbons of white cum striping over Bucky’s naked stomach, one after another.

“Fuck, Honey. So beautiful. Fuck that’s a lot. Fuck. Lookit’ you, big boy.”

His cooing praise drags it out longer, and by the time Steve’s dick is spent and softening again, he’s collapsed forward against Bucky, mess of cum between them be damned. He rests his head on his shoulder and hugs him while he recovers. “Fuck,” pants, closing his eyes and enjoying the sheer relief of it all. “That was good. I needed that.”

Bucky hums and rubs his back. “Me too.”

When they finally peel themselves off each other, they’re faced with two wet, spent dicks, and the mess of cum that did not magically disappear just because Steve wanted it to. He sighs and climbs off the couch.

“Shower,” Bucky decides, and goes into the bathroom with Steve following behind. He starts the water running and shucks his joggers that he'd only just pulled back up. “Feel like we were just doin’ this,” he complains.

“That’s cause we were.” Steve pads over and stands against him, leaning in, chest to chest.

Bucky leans against the wall and wraps his arms around Steve’s lower back while they wait for the water to warm up. “Do you really want a girl?” he asks. “Like we used to do?"

Steve sighs and presses his forehead into Bucky’s chest. His first inclination is to say yes. They used to sleep with men and women, have threesomes a few times a year, for fun. They’d only stopped because they’d mutually fallen into contentment with married life. But Steve realizes it’s the way Bucky’s framed it: does he want to have threesomes again. With a girl. And the answer is no. Steve doesn’t want to have 'a threesome' anymore, with 'a girl', or 'a guy'. He doesn’t want anything casual. He says as much, and groans into Bucky’s skin. “I just want her,” he says. “I want it to be serious, and I want it with her.”

Bucky strokes his back, not saying anything for a long minute. “Yeah,” he eventually agrees. “Me too.”

Steve makes a mournful sound in his throat. “Can’t we try? Maybe ask her out on a date? She might come around if she doesn’t feel like we’re just trying to jump her bones straight away, y’know? We’ve never really had that time with her. It went straight from ‘how do you do’ to moving her in here with us.” Bucky’s chest rises and falls with a deep inhale, and his hands have stopped moving on Steve’s back, which is how Steve knows he's really thinking about it. “Buck?” he tries. “C’mon. Let’s just give it a shot. Linda said she needs sex anyways, and I know you don’t like the idea of her with another man.”

Against him, bucky growls grumpily.

“Just one more try,” Steve pleads. “Let’s just tell her upfront we have feelings for her and that we’d like to court her.”

Bucky snorts. "'Court’?”

Steve whaps him and pulls his head back. “You know what I mean. Nice stuff. Take her out, buy her flowers.”

“I know what you mean.”

They stare in each other's eyes as Steve reaches over to feel the shower water. It's warm. “It’ll be her choice," he says. "We won’t be bossy.”

“Kind of hard not to be bossy when she thrives on that.”

Steve gives him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs. “Yeah I know what you mean.” He pulls the curtain and goes to step into the shower, but Steve stops him from behind with a hand on his arm—his left one. “And this,” he says, looking at him with authority. “Let me take this off. And you keep it it off around the house like you used to do.” He watches the brief reluctance that plays out on Bucky’s face, but is relieved when his husband doesn’t turn it into a fight. “Thank you, babe,” he says, taking the arm off and setting it out on their bed before returning to the bathroom. Bucky’s in the shower, so he steps in and stands with him under the spray. He wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, letting his left hand drag up over his stomach and chest, up to the anchor site where it meets his pec. “You can be a good Dom without it, you know,” he murmurs.

“... I know. It was silly.”

He kisses Bucky’s shoulder. “Not silly. I love you.” In his arms, Bucky’s body bleeds all its tension and he lets a little bit of his weight come back through Steve, who kisses his neck again. “Tonight?” he asks, knowing that Bucky will know what he means.

Bucky nods. “Tonight.”

Bucky

“A bar?!”

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

Bucky stares helplessly as Mary kicks off her shoes and walks (stumbles, is more like it) through the apartment and back towards her bedroom. The conversation they've just had was short and completely non-productive, other than that it's got Bucky feeling like he's on the verge of blowing up. “Mare, stop! Come back here.”

She throws him the finger over her shoulder and pushes into her bedroom, shutting the door harshly behind her. Bucky growls and starts for the hallway, but Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder, pulling him back. “Hang on, Babe.”

“She’s drunk!” Bucky hisses, turning furious eyes to Steve. “Been missing for hours and now this?! How did she even get it?”

“I know, I know.”

Bucky snarls, mad at Steve for being so fucking calm. “Did you give her her ID back?!”

“No! Don’t be stupid, babe.”

His eyes cut over, sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “She’s thirty Hon. I’m sure there are plenty of bartenders who’d serve her without checking.”

“Well that’s just, just …” Bucky sputters, struggling to find the words. “There have to be consequences!” He starts for the hall again but Steve grabs him and pulls him back and into a restraining hug. Bucky kind of wants to hit him. “Steve!”

“Shh,” Steve says. “Sh sh, just hang on a second. Take a deep breath.” He holds him tightly, rubbing his back and nosing at his neck, and Bucky realizes that Steve is employing some of the things he’s learned at the CDP, trying to calm him down.

He blinks, noticing how hot his face feels, how fast his pulse is thrumming underneath his skin. He exhales shakily, feeling bad. “Fuck. I'm ..."

"Yeah."

"Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Steve whispers. “Maybe today’s not the best day, after all.”

Bucky’s eyes flick over in the direction of the kitchen table. “Better get rid of those, then,” he grunts, referring to the flowers Steve had picked up at the bodega for Mary.

“I will. And we’ll figure this out, find out what happened, and talk to her another day, okay? We'll get new flowers.”

“No, not okay,” Bucky insists, his anxiety ratcheting up again as he thinks of the state Mary just came home in. “We need to deal with her.”

Steve pulls back and meets his eyes, and Bucky feels like an asshole all over again. “What do you need?” Steve asks quietly.

Bucky grits his teeth. To spank the ever loving shit outta that girl, he thinks but doesn’t say. He knows better than that, even on the verge of an episode, he can tell that he’s not being logical. He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths, pulls away from Steve because he’s embarrassed. “Nothin’.”

“Hey, it’s okay to need—”

“It’s not,” Bucky snaps, walking over to the couch and dumping himself onto it. He feels kind of sick—likely his blood pressure making him nauseous. “How am I supposed to be a good Dom for her when I can’t even keep myself in check? Christ.” He shoves his face into his hand. “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

Steve takes a minute, and when he approaches Bucky it’s with a gentle, careful expression that Bucky hates. “Babe, you know that makes no sense, right?” Bucky just grunts and Steve says, “That's like a diabetic saying they should have better willpower to control their insulin levels.”

Bucky glares at him for the trite comparison, wants to snap at his husband to stop quoting CDP literature at him. But that’d be nasty, and he bites his tongue. “No,” he grunts.

“You got told by Linda that you’re not giving her enough, not doing enough to meet her needs, and it’s been days since you really went up. You think I can't see that her drops aren't doing it for you now? You're too in tune with her. You both need more. And I should’ve seen this coming.” Steve sinks down to the carpet in front of him and kneels there reaching to rub his palms over the tops of Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky scowls at the gesture. “That’s not your job,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m your husband,” Steve says, almost authoritatively, even though he’s keeping his voice soft and calm like the Center professionals taught him. “It’s my job to take care of you, always.” He rubs Bucky’s tense muscles from over his jeans. “Babe, c’mon. Let me help you.”

Bucky closes his eyes and counts to twenty. When he opens them again, Steve’s still there, waiting. Bucky reaches out and cups his face.

Steve presses into it. “Sir,” he whispers, eyes lowered.

Bucky feels so guilty at that, even as he can feel his blood pressure lowering from the small display of subservience. “I love you,” he says.

Steve smiles softly and squeezes his hands over Bucky’s knees. “I know.”

Bucky sighs. He releases Steve and slumps back into the couch cushions, feeling like the biggest burden. “I should call and book someone,” he says. Steve’s not a submissive and he shouldn’t have to play that role just to fulfill Bucky’s medical needs. Linda’s helped him come to terms with that over the years. Steve, the self-sacrificing punk, would do it anyway, but Bucky knows when he needs to ask for outside help. “Nathan can usually take me last minute.” Steve nods and stands up, brings Bucky his cellphone to make the call. He sits on the couch with him and pulls Bucky to lie with his head in his lap as he calls the Center and makes an appointment. “Okay,” he says when he’s done, tossing the phone aside. “Six-thirty. He’s coming in after hours just for little old me.”

“Good.”

Bucky’s eyes cut sideways towards the bedroom hallway. Their plans for the night are ruined, and if he didn’t have himself to deal with right now, he’d be hard pressed to keep himself from going in Mary’s room, trying to scold her. “What about her?” he asks glumly.

Steve snorts. “Little miss drunk? She’s probably passed out. Don’t worry about it. Besides,” he runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Can’t reason with someone when they’re like that. Discussion, punishment, scening? That’ll all have to wait until tomorrow, at least.”

Bucky makes a face and tries not to let his dominance start spiraling out of control again. “She’s going to AA.” Steve hums, and when Bucky looks up and catches his expression, Steve looks like he’s worrying for his safety. “Tomorrow,” he insists, obstinate. “I’ll take the day from work if I have to. Drag her there myself.”

“Maybe no dragging."

"Steve,"

"Linda first,” Steve suggests gently. “That’s a better first step, hm?” Bucky grunts, grumpy about it but knowing Steve’s right. He nods, and Steve runs kind hands through his hair. “Okay, good. That’s settled. Don’t have to think about it any more tonight.” He bends down and pecks a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “So, six-thirty?”

“Mmhm.”

“An hour. … You want to help me get dinner started before you go?”

Bucky nods, turning and pressing his face into Steve’s lower belly, rubbing his cheek against his soft tee shirt and warm body. “Love you,” he mumbles, feeling sheepish from his outburst before. He knows it’s not his fault, but he still feels inordinately grateful to have Steve supporting him. “You ever get tired of all this drama?”

“Shuddup,” Steve chuckles.

“Mm. You should leave me for a normie." He’s got his eyes closed against Steve’s stomach, but feels the reproachful pinch on his neck. “Ow.”

“If I’d wanted a normie, I’d have married a normie,” Steve scolds. He pets over where he pinched. “And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment, cause I’ve got my sights set on another one’a you jerks. This is just a setback. We’ll let her sober up, you’ll go see the Pro, and then when everybody’s in the right frame of mind, we’ll deal with it. Now come on.” He pats Bucky on the back. “Mary's not the only one who can navigate a kitchen. I’ve got a recipe for chicken piccata we can try.”

Bucky sighs. He’s so fucking in love with Steve, and he’s never got any good way to say it. There's nothing. Wedding vows barely scratched the surface. “Okay,” he says, because what else is there to do but agree? Like most times, Bucky knows his more level-headed husband is right about this.

They get up and go into the kitchen to start pulling the ingredients for chicken piccata, and Bucky is able to keep his mouth shut for a full five minutes before his anxiety ratchets back up and he returns to haranguing Steve about confronting Mary—possibly later that night.

*Next chapter starts out IMMEDIATELY with the big confrontation and beginning of their romantic and sexual relationship, so I promise y'all won't have to wait much longer!

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monbons · 1 day

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WIP Wednesday

Posting actual WIPS on a Wednesday? Imagine that.

As long as we are all baring our hearts on tumblr, I have to admit that I have been struggling to write anything since I wrapped up Eternal Life (back in the first week of April). At first I figured I was simply burnt out since I wrote all 42k words of that fic in just about a month, but given that I've started three separate WIPS since then and made zero progress on any of them, I'm wondering if I am just out of stories. I hate all my words--even though I really love some of these concepts. So, as you may have noticed, I've been distracting myself with sewing projects because good progress is so clearly visible there...

Anywho, to motivate myself, I decided to post a snip of each today and hope that having bits out in the world will motivate me to finish at least ONE of them! All untitled. Set up and snips below the cut.

Very creatively titled "Party Robot," this WIP is a silly/fluffy one-shot inspired by an article I read a while ago about a growing trend in American weddings. This one is the furthest along and will likely see the light of day eventually...

A nervous bounce. From a robot. I recognize that bounce. “I thought you said Shepard was working tonight.” My voice is tight. “He is.” Bunce replies, similarly strained. “What did you say he does again?” Panic rises in my chest. “He’s in entertain–” Whether Bunce trails off or I simply don’t hear the rest is irrelevant because the music has changed from easy dinner instrumentals to much-too-loud techno and the show is clearly starting. As the synths build, driving towards a crescendo, my brain reels with the growing realisation that Simon would never just abandon me at the last minute, would never send me anywhere alone, certainly not my cousin’s gay wedding, which is every kind of milestone given his Old Families lineage and Pitch blood specifically and– “PARTY PEOPLE!” The DJ booms into the mic. “Have the grooms got a treat for you!”

A multi-chapter AU I have lovingly nicknamed "Baz in a Bubble." It is sad and angsty and is proving significantly more difficult to execute (despite having a complete outline) than I once thought it would be. Who could have guessed having one home-bound character would make me too sad to write? Thanks to @thewholelemon and @hushed-chorus who've listened to more than their fair share of my griping about this one. Anyway, here's the first bit of BAZ POV:

There are exactly 297 stars in the sky above me. I count them while lying in my bed every night. They do not twinkle or flicker hello like real stars. Instead, they glow a constant yellowish-green that reminds me of the colour artists always make toxic sludge in the cartoons I grew up watching. It's the colour of superhuman villains and their evil plots. Of poison. Of danger. It's the colour of the plastic star stickers Fiona put up on my ceiling when I was 10 and spent the whole year crying and begging her to go outside. Just once. Just for a minute. Because I was starting to forget what fresh air smelled like or how it felt to have grass prickle against your bare feet or how the stars lit up the night sky in Hampshire. There are no stars in the middle of London. Not outside my window. Not in this room.

And then the WIP I have the least progress on (literally almost nothing) but I so desperately want to write and could really use a thought partner to help me brainstorm/plot/figure out what the hell I'm doing--- a canon divergence where Simon successfully exposes Baz as a vamp and Malcolm steps the fuck up as a father. Here's a bit of Simon POV:

It didn't matter anyway. Pitch Manor was empty. While [the Mage] ranted and raved, I wandered into Baz’s living room. The TV was still on. Peppa the Pig was playing. A half-dressed Barbie was splayed on the couch next to a small bowl of grapes, all cut in half. I picked up the doll and brushed her tangled hair out of her face. Why didn’t I know Baz had a sister? A family that ate snacks together in front of the TV? Parents who loved him so dearly they fled their whole lives under cover of night? In the days that followed, I sat in meeting after meeting with the Coven, listening to The Mage. He demanded the casting of tracking spells, pushed through more dark creature reforms, and rambled about the miscarriage of justice and the dangers of harbouring monsters. But Baz wasn’t a monster. He was just a boy. A scared boy. A boy who ran because he wanted to live.

Anyway...here's to accountability via tumblr. Maybe once I've slept for several weeks and feel more refreshed I won't be so frustrated by every word I know, or more precisely, all the beautiful ones I can’t seem to find…

Thanks for the tag @bookish-bogwitch. Cannot wait to devour the new chapter of BPD!

Hellos and high-fives to all. May your words (and art) be faring better than mine: @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @roomwithanopenfire, @facewithoutheart

@emeryhall, @artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @rimeswithpurple

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @shrekgogurt, @blackberrysummerblog, @iamamythologicalcreature

@run-for-chamo-miles, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @arthurkko, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

@beastmonstertitan, @supercutedinosaurs, @rbkzz, @fiend-for-culture, @theearlgreymage

@brilla-brilla-estrellita, @skeedelvee, @ic3-que3n, @talentpiper11, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

#words words words and not a fic to show for it #if eternal life is my last fic at least it is a damn good one to go out on #if you would like to suggest a sewing project for me to procrastinate with i am open for business #gonna go crawl back into bed in the meantime #wip wednesday

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icycoldninja · 2 days

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Can you write a reader with the DMC boys who’s mostly very chill but she actually have repressed anger issues built up due to past traumas of not being able to express her emotions properly without being “lectured” and overall, she’s been neglected almost her entire life without her actually realizing it. She thought that her parents giving her money to spend is enough love but throughout the process of loving the boys, she found out that love can be more than that and her parents may not have properly loved her the way she thought. It’s only when she’s in a relationship with them does she realize how neglected she was,

as early in the relationship, she’s pretty withdrawal from affection, flinching when they gave her physical affection, finding herself hard to set boundaries and voice out her thoughts and refusing to let them do things for her as she believes that if she let them do it, they’ll find her bothersome. On top of that, she kinda has a mindset of not being too attached to them as she thinks that if they ever cheat on her or broke her heart, she wouldn’t be too heartbroken abt it. Now with the relationship progressing, she’s starting to become better but it’s still there somehow

They found out when they saw the reader, who was very fearful of demons (think of her fearfulness similar to that of Kobeni in Chainsaw man) but can get extremely violent moments later when the demon she was avoiding suddenly got beaten into a bloody pulp with her baseball bat

Basically going from “I’m sorry mother, I have failed you as your daughter and you have failed me as my mother. I hope you’ll never forgive me” to “Fucking die! You shitheads, no one shall ever leave this room alive!!”

P/S: Her parents are not abusive, it’s just that her father was barely available throughout her childhood and her mother do not know how to love her properly and is not aware that the reason her daughter barely wants to keep contact with her is due to her past trauma

OK, got it! Here ya go and enioy!

Sparda boys + V x Reader with repressed anger issues headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante found you to be a pleasant challenge. You were uptight, physically and emotionally distant, cold, mean, and extremely reluctant to open your heart to anyone.

-He didn't mind though; Dante was certain that with time, he'd manage to worm his way into your heart and get you to accept your relationship for what it was: true love.

-Upon learning of how you were forced to bottle up your emotions, Dante was outraged. Not at you, at your parents. Why would they deny your the right to express yourself fully? No wonder you were like this. From that point on, Dante made sure to encourage you to say what was on your mind, regardless of whether it was positive or not.

-Dante is always showering you with attention and kind words, making sure you're doing alright every other hour. It really made you think about how you were raised, and how your childhood seemed so deprived of love compared to now.

-You started opening up more to Dante, as a result, sharing your true thoughts and allowing yourself to feel more emotions.

-When Dante took you with him on a mission for the first time, he was shocked to see how you reacted to seeing a real life demon. At first you were crying, laughing, mumbling to yourself like an insane person, the next, you'd pulled out a baseball bat and bashed the thing into a bloody pulp.

-Dante's respect for you rocketed into the stars after that incident, but he makes sure to keep you away from demons unless it's absolutely necessary.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil didn't mind your physical and emotional distance, as well as your stubbornness to remain independent. He reasoned all this stemmed from trauma, and as someone with these exact same issues, he understood.

-He would never pressure you into revealing things about yourself; all would come in due time. He would simply sit there and read quietly. If you wanted to talk, he would listen. If not, then he would mind his own business.

-He was still very protective of you when you were in public, as prying eyes and gawking strangers never did sit right with him.

-At some point you chose to tell him about how you'd always been told to disguise your emotions and keep them bottled up inside. Vergil found it odd that your own parents would tell you to do this, but since he himself did the very same thing, he didn't say much about it.

-He does want you to know you can express yourself however you feel around him--within reason, of course.

-He was understandably surprised when he witnessed the way you freaked out over demons. First you're cowering, crying and muttering gibberish to yourself, the next, you're screaming and terrifyingly violent as you bash the demon's skull in.

-Vergil realized that if you could actively control this reaction, you'd do very well in battle. Still, he should keep you away from any and all hellish threats from now on.

□ Nero □

-Nero found you rather difficult to get along with since you rejected any and all help from him and was always cold and mean.

-Still, he loved you and tried his best to keep you happy. Since you preferred to do everything yourself, he'd let you do everything yourself.

-He attempted to initiate conversation with you at every chance he got, even if you rudely brushed him off. As long as he kept trying, he was sure you'd let him in eventually.

-Your reluctance to get attached to him was more than obvious; it made Nero sad to think you believed he'd so much as consider abandoning you. He made sure to tell you that he loves you and that he'll stay with you forever, every single day.

-Thanks to his constant reminders, you've let yourself relax around him, and even though you're still somewhat tense, you don't flinch when he hugs you and don't reject him when he tries to kiss you.

-Watching you freak out over demons was no pleasant experience either. He'd never seen someone have such a complete mood switch in such a short amount of time. One moment you look like you're on the verge of a breakdown and the next, you're violent enough to become a demon yourself.

-Your anger issues are scary, but not nearly as bad as Nero's, so the plus side is you two can lash out at the world together.

● V ●

-V (being part of Vergil) understands that trauma makes one extremely distant, both physically and emotionally, so he tries to not let that get to him.

-He wants you to understand that he will never leave you, cheat on you, or hurt you in anyway. He loves you and only you, and it's gonna be that way forever.

-Even though you're audibly against it, V will come up and hold you whenever he feels like it, burying his face into your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck, wrapping his lanky arms around your waist, the lot.

-You might groan and complain, but eventually you get used to it, and then you just kinda melt into his touch. This is good. It means his plan to coax you out of your shell is working.

-He does let you do what you want on your own, but makes sure to remind you that you are not a burden, especially when he can barely walk around on his own two feet.

-When you guys went on a mission together and he got to see you having what looked like a full on breakdown because of one demon, V grew very worried. Had a hidden phobia just been triggered?

-Then he saw you whack the sorry creature with a baseball bat you apparently conjured into existence and was reassured that all this was just a productive of your supressed anger issues--which was fine. He could work with that.

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multifandombullshitbabes · 21 hours

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Random Merlin Rewatch: Where a random number generator gives me a season and an episode from BBC Merlin; and then I comment on it as I go.

Today's episode: Season 4 Episode 7 - The Secret Sharer

Before I start, let me just say and I have done my uni exam and that's why I haven't been posting these even though I really wanted to. Not joking, I had to let my fingers rest 'cause I wrote all my notes and shit. It was a lot. Anyways, let's fucking do this.

LET'S GO INTRO!!!! YOUNG MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOH

EWWWWW WHY IS AGRAVAINE TOUCHING MORGANA LIKE THAT I'M GONNA PUKE BRO

Damn, Morgana's eyes are so GREEN, that makeup really does it for her. Kinda funny she's wearing it to bed though. Girl.

GOOD LORD MAMA, HELLO

Agravaine needs to chill the fuck out. Every time he's on screen he gives me the ick. Ugh. Also Morgana looked so damn paranoid talking about Emrys. "He knows everything. All our plans, all our secrets." Girl.... RIP Morgana you would've loved therapy (or not).

Ohhh... interesting Morgana's reaction to Agravaine's accusation of Gaius, saying that he's the ones working with Emrys. She almost looks... hurt? Like. She really doesn't want to face the reality that Gaius exists, in the sense that she's just so hurt by everything these people that "loved" her have done. She just feels so betrayed by everyone, so hurt, so ANGRY. It's so tragic.

Oh my GOD. I NEED PEOPLE TO STOP MANIPULATING MORGANA!!! I'M SICK OF IT!!!! The way she hesitates!!! When she knows that it means that they're going to use Gaius or maybe even kill him!!! The way that she moves away from Agravaine, processing this, the way he INTERRUPTS THIS and insists, again, that it has to be Gaius, they have to do something. And for a second she almost looks so fucking scared, like!!

LOOK AT HER!!! ANOTHER PERSON THAT'S BETRAYED HER!!! SHE'S SO HURT AND SCARED!!! OH GOD HER AND ARTHUR ARE SO SIMILAR.

She even blinks her eyes after that line from Agravaine, like blinking away tears, her eyes are so shiny bro, I'm gonna cry :((. And after blinking she turns all smirky and "evil" and shit. Jesus Christ. I could write a whole thesis about Morgana and her character progression holy shit.

LET'S GO MUSICCCCCCC

AHHHHHH the iconic breakfast in bed scene!!! Yay!!!

I don't blame Arthur for spitting that out, shit looked dry as FUCK. Also there's a bunch of crumbs on the bed, Merlin, YOU'LL have to clean that up!!! Don't give yourself more work!!

"I don't know anything about Polishing." We really need more appreciation about how Bradley delivers his lines, this one is just too funny, only hearing it, bro. Also. Merlin writes Arthur's speeches. One of the best pieces of canon in my opinion. It's just so comical, for some reason. And they must be good too, 'cause no one's questioning them. It's just such a subtle way to show that Merlin IS smart. Sometimes. A little bit.

Merlin, babe, you cannot be serious. You writing the new bible or something, what the fuck is this.

"You don't have hours." Most threatening and terrifying Merlin's ever sounded. Arthur's better than me, I would've have an anxiety attack so bad it'd send me straight to hell.

THIS INTRO IS EVERYTHING!!! WHY ARE THEY SAYING THINGS SO PERFECTLY SILLY!! I LOVE IT!!! Also, damn, Arthur's BUSY. I guess we do forget that kings had to, y'know. Do basically everything, like be a judge sometimes. Hello??

Ah yes, what I've been waiting for: the wrestling Arthur out of the bed scene. Love it. No notes, really.

"You're doing very well, Arthur." WHAT IF I CRY???

"I don't think so."???? ARTHUR WHAT IF I SMACK SOME SENSE INTO YOU, SHUT UP!!! YOU'RE DOING PRETTY GREAT IN MY OPINION, LISTEN TO YOUR MANSERVANT FOR ONCE.

A tiny bit of appreciation for Arthur's chest hair.

Thank you.

Love that Agravaine just. Ignores that it's Merlin writing Arthur's shit. He must have gotten such a shock right at the start and now nothing's surprising anymore.

The fact that Morgana, all in black, has a white horse is so fucking cool to me. Work that shit, queen.

OK GORGEOUS?????

Hate the way Agravaine speaks. Shut the FUCK UP.

Arthur. Arthur, honey. Yeah, you've got to stop being so easy to manipulate. I know it's hard, but your uncle is so fucking obvious doing it, please, please, just. Please. Holy shit.

Morgana's dress (cloak?? hood?? idk) is so pretty.

Morgana being the last of her kind, High Priestess of the Triple Goddess. Merlin being the last Dragonlord. Something something...

Also. Some obvious orientalism is this episode. Kinda icky, but unsurprising giving it's BBC and also like. 2011 or whatever. But still. Ugh.

Welp. Welp, welp. Can't really say much about that, can I??

I can't remember, but I'm assuming that bracelet she gives to the Catha is from Morgause, simply by the look of pain in her face when it's out of her grasp. Literally, when will my wife's suffering end?

I wonder just how many different kinds of magic beings and users there are in JUST the five kingdoms. What about the rest of the world?? Like. that's just so cool!! I love world building, maybe one day I'll waste away some days just building up lore and lore, probably some made up, but mostly from all cultures and countries. That would be cool as fuck actually.

Agravaine's smile is so FAKE, FUCK OFFFFFFF

Ew, why does he just touch everybody. Weird uncle vibes, for sure.

Oh, I just don't like how Arthur's so quiet. I bet Agravaine's just gotten in his head so bad. He already looks ready to cry, like Gaius has already betrayed him. He's so used to that, what's one more?

Jesus, this hurts to watch. The fact that Gaius knows exactly what's happening, and he's trying to be as truthful as he can but Agravaine's just. making it all worse and horrible. This is so bad.

Ok, Gaius, I know you're better at lying than this. Fucking damnit.

EW. Agravaine's little smirk?? What the fuck is wrong with him? Jesus, I feel so sick watching this, knowing that he's just basically sentenced Gaius as a liar!! Fuck!!!

Well, at least Arthur noticed that Agravaine was being a fucking bitch. Not all is lost.

"... we might find some (proof)." Oh, ok, so you're just admitting that you're going to fabricated evidence against Gaius? Oh ok.

JESUS THESE MAN'S TITTIES ARE JIGGLING GOOD LORD

OH MY GOD, NOT THE PECS FLEXING??? I'm assuming normally you don't see that when you're on a horse adjusting yourself 'cause you got clothes on but this guy DOESN'T and you can SEE EVERYTHING.

The way that Merlin opens the door is so funny. He is NOT amused to be called upon by Agravaine. Mood.

Why is Agravaine's smile literally so disgusting, I cannot.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WHY DOES HE SMILE SO MUCH???? VERY MUCH WEIRD UNCLE VIBES. VERY MUCH "PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, YOUR UNCLE'S COMING." VIBES. EW. EW EW EWWWW

Love seeing Agravaine getting humbled, thank you big titty man.

Really? Really??? A book boldly proclaiming that it's about magic and sorcery, kinda hidden by one (1) sheet of paper as your proof? Really??? Are you for real right now?? Fuck off.

It is actually so upsetting seeing Agravaine in Merlin and Gaius's space. Like that's not for you, disgusting bitch.

Not Merlin finishing polishing the dagger and setting it on Arthur's nightstand JUST as the warning bells start to sound. Lol. Lmao even.

OH MY GOD THEY'RE DESTROYING GAIUS' SHIT??? WHAT THE FUCK

No no no. I hate this. The fact that Merlin now get's why Agravaine made him polish that dagger. He's fucking blaming himself right away, oh I can't do this.

Merlin literally looks like a baby in this shot, holy shit. My baby :(((.

Agravaine's acting (not the actor's, is the actor acting the character acting!! which is so fucking cool) is so fucking annoying. It's so obvious, dammit, Arthur, you're a king, how can you not see it!!! I know he's family, but you barely know him!!! I know he's from your mother's side and you want THAT side to be good unlike your father's side that's brought you so much pain, I know, but come ON!!!

Oh, Merlin's so mad, not at Arthur, at Agravaine and himself, but he's so hurt, so scared, so pained that it comes across as quietly, restrained angry, and it's fucking heart breaking.

Oh god. This is one of their most painful fights in my opinion. I think they get so fucking heart breaking when it's Merlin just. trying to show his side, trying to get Arthur to understand but Arthur just cannot because he's been given a certain information that WOULD make his actions sensible, but WE know they're lies!!! We do, Merlin does, but he can't just say that 'cause it might reveal HIS lie, and it's just UGH!!!!!!!!!! FUCK

MERLIN IS FUCKING TEARING UP I CAN'T. "He would not leave without saying goodbye to me." I AM GOING TO PUKE.

The way Merlin turns away when he's close to crying, ohhhhh. Oh BBC Merlin writers when I catch you. Colin Morgan when I catch you.

"I don't wanna lose another friend." I think these are the moments that really make me wanna chortle Arthur. I truly feel like he cannot understand the depth of the power that he has compared to Merlin. 'Cause what does that threat mean? Just them stop being friends but Merlin's still employed? Arthur sacking Merlin? Arthur treating Merlin how he's treating Gaius right now? Because, truthfully, with the power that Arthur has, any of these options is viable. I think this is what scares me, Arthur just cannot comprehend that he just cannot threaten his friends, his loved ones, like this just because he's king now. He simply cannot. The weight of it is different. Even if he would never hurt them, it doesn't matter, he has the POWER to. That's what's so scary. And then he wonders why Merlin doesn't tell him things. How can he?

The way things just. Change between the early seasons and now. The way Gaius talks to Morgana, knowing she wants to kill him, when he saw her grow up. I'm gonna be so fucking sick, y'all, what the fuck.

Does she braid some of her hair with leaves?? Or a green ribbon? What is that in her hair??

Not gonna lie, Morgana is so hot in this scene. Jesus. Love that voice, and that's all I'm gonna say.

HE LOOKS SO BABY!!!!!!!!!!1

I love that Gwen doesn't even question that Agravaine's behind it. She's like "I'll use my charms to get Arthur to see reason, don't worry bestie."

ICONICCCC GAIUS USING MAGIC!!!!!!!!

Oh, I love when Merlin doesn't even use words. Just golden eyes and BOOM. Magic.

MERLIN FOR FUCK'S SAKE BRO YOU CAN'T EVEN SNEAK OUT CORRECTLY WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!! That's so fucking funny though, I'm losing it-

GWAINE!!!! MY BABY!!! You look like a puppy :,).

Oop. Cock blocked.

Merlin is just in a fucking mood and honestly he deserves to be. But it is interesting how differently he acted with Gwaine and Gwen. I wonder if he's being shorter with Gwaine 'cause he's a knight now, and he knows that knights talk and are closer to the king's views than the servants. Classic class division and such, even if Gwaine is not like other knights. He just cannot be sure now. Also 'cause he almost got found out my Agravaine which does not good for your nerves I bet.

WOW. Gwaine, baby, STAND UP. Get some self-respect. Good god. At Merlin's back and call, it's really ridiculous bro.

Immediately on a secret mission, love these boys.

Not Agravaine seeing his plans fall apart, GET REKT LOSER.

I wonder if Morgana's a good cook. I think she isn't actually. Just never gets recipes right. Burns things, undercooks others.

Oh, poor Gaius... he really tried to fight it but...

It's really fun watching the series and recognizing common clips used in edits.

The way Gaius speaks about Merlin with such wonder and pride... crying rn.

LMAO NOT MERLIN JUST COMPLETELY TRIPPING BOTH OF THE GUY'S FEET. ALSO THE WAY THE CATH TURNED??? HELLO??? HE LOOKED LIKE A SQUIRREL.

"We should split up." "Yeah." two dumb bitches saying "exactlyyyy"

"If you find him, don't wait for me." Gwaine IMMEDIATELY disagreed with that, Merlin dearest, he's not gonna let that happen.

Oh my god, Morgana hasn't met Gwaine yet. All she knows, from Agravaine, is that he's a "hothead". Lmao. lol even.

I love how Agravaine, literal dagger to Gaius' neck, is disagreeing with Gwaine's very keen observation, that he's the kidnapper and traitor. Girl, shut the fuck up.

Gwaine is so handsome. Also, yes, not completely stupid because, if Agravaine didn't kidnap Gaius, how did he know where he was, hm?? Bitchass.

Jesus. Credit when credit's due, he can be a good liar. Also, I feel like Gwaine's acting like he believes Agravaine's innocent, mainly because he can sense something fishy about him. His question, "So you agree he was abducted then?" is so SMART. 'Cause what else can Agravaine do but agree and declare Gaius an innocent man? Yeah that's fucking right, bitch.

Morgana is literally so hot and tragic when evil, good lord.

UGH, Morgana using magic without words, YES!!! Love her being powerful.

Face card never declines for either one of them, good god. Y'know what, more and more I understand Mergana. Just. Look at them!!!

OH THE WAY MERLIN KNOWS THAT ALATOR KNOWS HE'S EMRYS. OH MY GOD?????

Oh jesus, the way Morgana's just RELIEVED to finally know who Emrys is, she's so scared of him she just doesn't want to be scared anymore. Her voice is so soft here :(.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE YEETED THE FUCK OUT OF MORGANA WHAT THE FUCK, WOAH!!!!!!!!1

Oh wow that scene just gave me chills, holy shit holy shit. The way Alator just kneels and allies himself to Merlin. Jesus Christ, that's my drug bro.

Gwaine and Arthur interacting. Gwaine being so soft about Gaius, so worried :(. Arthur too :(((.

I really do love how royals just think the servants can't fucking hear. Gwen is right there as they speak very sensitive matters. Like bitch?? They have ears I promise??

The way Gaius and Merlin communicate their fears and anxieties :((( I'm so emotional bro.

"My worry is Arthur." and THOSE are your loyalties, while Alator and other's loyalties are to YOU, Merlin, 'cause you're supposed to bring forth Albion, but you're too busy having a fucking CRUSH TO DO IT!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, the way Arthur walks into the room and Merlin cannot even BEAR to look at him. He's HURT. As is his right.

The way Merlin immediately lightens the mood, 'cause he wants things to be easy as possible, even if it gets hurts swept under the rug like this. UGH. AGHHHHHHHHH.

Boys. Stop eye fucking. You're supposed to at least be a little mad at him, Merlin, you kinda deserve that, y'know.

Love that Arthur believes without a doubt that Gaius withstood torture for him and Camelot and won. Like. He truly sees Gaius as this strong figure. Just always there since he was born, bro. Even before, while he was being made!! That's bonkers.

I love how Arthur understood Gaius' lied even though Agravaine talks in the "evil manipulative guy" voice all the time. Fuck off bro, I swear.

The Gaius is trying to teach Arthur to understand the complexities of magic, that it's all evil or all good, it's all different. I love this scene so much.

Pretty boy.

And that is it!!! God, what an episode!! I feel like this episode is a good starting point for a show rewrite, in which Arthur gets more and more curious about magic and tries to understand, and maybe we'd get a magic reveal and shit like. I like that a lot.

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #gaius #morgana pendragon #hey look i posted a thing #Merlin Random Rewatch #good ass episode

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