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wardenparker · 1 day

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.

The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"

"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."

"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."

"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.

"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"

"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."

"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."

"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.

Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.

“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.

"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.

"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"

“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.

"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”

"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.

Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.

Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.

“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”

“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.

Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.

“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.

“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.

His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”

“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.

“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”

“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”

“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.

“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.

Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”

“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”

“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”

“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”

“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.

He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”

“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.

"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."

“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”

"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.

There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.

Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”

It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.

It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.

“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”

“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.

“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.

“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.

When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”

“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.

He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”

From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”

“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.

There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.

“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”

“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”

“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”

“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”

“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.

“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.

You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.

“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.

It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.

“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.

“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”

“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”

“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”

“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”

“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.

“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”

“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”

“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”

“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”

“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”

“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.

“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”

“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”

His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”

“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”

“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.

“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.

“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”

“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”

Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.

“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.

Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.

“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”

He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”

“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.

Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.

It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.

The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.

"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."

He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.

"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."

“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.

"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."

“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”

"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."

“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."

“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”

"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."

“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”

It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."

He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”

"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."

“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.

You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"

Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.

Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.

Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.

The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."

“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.

It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.

“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”

You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.

It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.

It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.

It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.

There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.

He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.

"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.

He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.

That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.

Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.

"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."

Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”

"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."

Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.

"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.

Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.

Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.

"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.

"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."

“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”

"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."

“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”

"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."

“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”

"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."

“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.

"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."

His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.

"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."

“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”

"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."

Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.

Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.

The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.

The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.

The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”

“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.

“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.

“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.

"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."

She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.

It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.

“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”

“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”

“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.

“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.

“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.

“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”

“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.

“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”

“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”

“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”

“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”

“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.

“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”

“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.

“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.

“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”

“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”

“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”

“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”

“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”

“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”

A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.

“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.

“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.

“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”

“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.

“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”

As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”

"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."

“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”

"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."

“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.

"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"

“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.

"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.

“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”

“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”

“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.

“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”

“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.

“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.

“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”

“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.

“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”

“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”

“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”

She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.

“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”

Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”

“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”

“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”

“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”

“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.

“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…

“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”

“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…

The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”

“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”

“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”

“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”

“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.

“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”

“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.

"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."

She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”

"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."

“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”

The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.

Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.

"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.

Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”

"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"

“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?

"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."

“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”

"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"

“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”

"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."

He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”

"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"

“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.

“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”

“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.

“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”

“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”

"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."

“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.

"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"

“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”

"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."

“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”

"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."

“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.

"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.

“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”

"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."

“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.

"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"

“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”

"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."

“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.

"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”

"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."

“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.

Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”

“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”

“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.

“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.

“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”

“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”

“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”

“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”

“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.

“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”

“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”

“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.

First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.

With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.

So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.

Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”

“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”

He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”

You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.

“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.

“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”

“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”

“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.

He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”

“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.

“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.

“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.

It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.

“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.

“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”

“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”

“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.

“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.

“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”

“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.

“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”

“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.

“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”

“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.

“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.

You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”

Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”

"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.

“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”

"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."

"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"

"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."

"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"

"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."

"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"

"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."

"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."

"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."

He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.

"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.

“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.

Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.

Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.

The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.

“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”

“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.

“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”

Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”

“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.

“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”

Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”

“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.

Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”

“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.

Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.

“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.

Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”

"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."

The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.

"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.

“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”

"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."

“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.

"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.

Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”

"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."

“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.

"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.

“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”

“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”

“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”

“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”

"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."

“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”

The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.

A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”

Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

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mogoce-nocoj · 7 months

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the way everyone has wanted to hear Kris sing live for so many concerts and then Bojan's just like "I was gonna ask you, there's a sign 'Kris owns ngvot, sing it'" and Kris just shrugs and says "sure" as if this is no big deal at all

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #yeah i too am hyped about jere but hearing Kris sing ngvot and how he seemed to loosen up during it made me feel things #it's just the little things in the band's dynamic #how kris looked at bojan in the beginning and bojan nodding #the way kris effortlessly signalled them with one hand motion that he was beginning #Janči slowly changing sides on stage to be closer to Kris #uff

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daydadahlias · 1 year

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Yeah, he called himself a "dad," but turning and treating the other guys like babies in your asks and tags just seems weird and wrong. They're all grown adults.

you forgot to put "april fools" at the end of this bestie

#no but seriously like #bare with me for a second while i explain something to you #1) i dont think 5sos are children. i think they're completely competent grown men who take care of themselves #it's something called 'a joke' and im sorry that this joke that ive made #probably 100 times?? over the last few years?? is just now starting to bother u #from that ive deduced that u must be new! and if u r new. u can leave! i promise u wont miss me that much #2) 5sos being 'infantile' (which i dont think they are) and ashton being a dad are two separate things so let's not conflate them #i make jokes abt ash being a dad. THATS the joke #the joke isnt 'aw the rest of 5sos are little babies who need to be taken care of'#that isnt the joke and u shouldnt take it that way #so let's not project and pretend that's what the joke is #the joke is centered on ASHTON. it's about ashton being a dad. not the other guys being babies. which... they arent #3) ashton has a parental dynamic w/ the rest of the band that's just straight up #4) r u ok?#bc it seems like ur having a bad day and im sorry abt that. hope it gets better :(#pigeon #anon

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nymphomatique · 7 months

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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

#the ask had me sweatin #u guys need to start writing instead of me 😭#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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coryosbaby · 5 months

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We need part 2 of that sub!coryo pls 😩😩

ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

content warning . Power dynamics, edging, bondage, use of toys (ballgag + vibrator), degradation and praise . Dom! Reader, sub! Coryo

Notes: subcoryosubcoryosubcoryo !!! <333

He comes to you at midnight.

The walk to your apartment from Coriolanus’ own is not far, a mere few blocks over. When he gets there— knocks, greets you like the polite boy he is— he begins to unbutton his shirt. It’s an immediate demand from you, something that he suspected you would want the moment he walked through the door. He slips off his shoes, his suit, his ratty overused shirt. He looks away shyly, as if he’s not one of the most gorgeous men to ever walk the earth. It’s as if every ounce of his ego leaves the moment he enters your room.

He slips his underwear down his legs. Crawls onto your silky expensive sheets. You watch with a pleased smile, peeling off your red slip to bare your body to him. He gulps, his eyes never leaving the spot in between your legs.

You straddle him, just above his knees, not quite touching his cock yet. He bites his lower lip and blushes like a schoolgirl.

“Have you been a good boy?” You ask him, with precision. With calculation. With practice. He nods, and although he’s nervous like always, he grabs your perfectly manicured hand. He brings one of your fingers up to his mouth, suckles it with his soft pink tongue.

“Yes.”

You let him taste your digits for a little while longer, let him get used to this headspace you’ve taught him to embrace so openly. When he pulls the digits out of his mouth, your hands move up to stroke his blonde curls.

“My uncle has been treating your family well, I hope?”

Your uncle is one of the men you referred Coriolanus to, as a reward for letting you use his body for his own pleasure. The boy finds that he may like this situation a lot more than he thought. Your cunt is exquisite, your way of fucking so primal and raw. He’s completely infatuated with it. And the way you treat him, the way you care for him in such a way, makes him forget. Makes him forget his responsibilities, his past, his worries. He can let go when he’s with you, in more ways than one.

With fluttering lashes, he nods. His tongue brushes over his lip as he watches your naked cunt in between your legs.

“Very well.”

“And what do we say, for someone going out of their way to get you that position?”

He playfully lifts the back of your hand up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to it with soft, plush lips.

“Thank you, mistress.”

—

It’s not long before you’ve got the boy tied up. Red rope contrasts against pale white skin as the boy’s wrists twist and turn in the restraints. It was his idea, this bondage technique that leaves him completely helpless, and you know once again that the boy is a lot darker than you anticipated.

He’s got a vibrator pressed to his swollen, aching cock, held to it by an elastic band that’s just a bit too tight around his skin. A blue ballgag sits in between his pretty lips, and it’s caked with drool and spit. You lean down to lick it up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you turn off the vibrator for a third time tonight. Tears pool on the boys crystalline lashes, a small whimper leaving him when you turn the device back on again with the remote in your hand.

“So handsome like this, Coryo,” you praise him, your nails scarping against his bare thigh. “Like a pretty painting. I’d love to keep you here forever.”

Coriolanus wouldn’t mind that, though he’s scared to admit such a thing to you. His hips thrust against the vibrator as you continue speaking to him in that sweet tone.

“You know I want to let you cum. But we need discipline. Don’t we, darling? We need to be patient, to work hard for what we want.”

He nods. He understands perfectly, and you don’t think you’ve ever had a boy in your bed so obedient. It’s not what you originally anticipated, given Coriolanus’ selfishness and greed. But you assume that his need to please has to form somewhere— and you’re so glad that it has formed in your bed.

You’re aroused to no end, watching him struggle. Your fingers move down to rub your swollen clit between your fingers. Coryo’s eyes focus only on that movement.

You can see him getting close again, can see that familiar twitch of his cock right before his release. You turn the toy off again. He cries out, his wrists pulling against the restraints vigorously. He’s like an animal, twitching and moaning. You know that if he somehow releases himself from those ropes that you won’t be able to stop him from fucking his cock into your drenched heat.

He tries to say something through the gag, but you ignore him. If he really needed to tell you something, he would knock on the wood of your headboard. You stick a finger inside yourself, swirling your release around and getting the digit nice and wet. Coriolanus can’t completely part his mouth due to the ballgag, but there is an open space on the sides that gives you access to the inside of it. You stick your finger in that space, rub your wetness on the inside of his cheek. His tongue can’t taste it due to the ballgag pushing it down, and he has no choice but to leave your slick there, untouched.

The tears fall harder now.

It goes on like this, his release being denied again and again while you spread your cunt to him and get him all desperate and hot. The tip of his cock is so red that it’s almost purple.

Until it comes to one point, when the boy can’t seem to take it anymore. His orgasm hits before you can even notice it, and his cum squirts out of his cock in thick, heavy streams. You turn the vibrator off mid orgasm, and he flails helplessly as his high is ruined. He sobs through the gag, begging you to let him cum again, to let him feel you. Your cunt has been neglected for so long that you can’t help but say yes.

You remove the vibrator from him, taking note of the faint line from the band cutting off a bit of circulation. You rub him with your palm to get him all squirmy again, let his cock sit proudly against his stomach for a second time. You straddle his thighs, grabbing his cock from underneath you and positioning it at your entrance. His head tilts back, his breathing uneven and heavy. You sink down onto him with ease.

His cock is so thick, so long, and it fills up your cunt perfectly. Your thighs bounce up and down on him, your wetness leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and the boy can’t do anything but take it. He wants to touch you so badly, to feel your tits that are practically bouncing in his face. But he knows that the feeling of being helpless, of not being able to move, makes the restraints all worthwhile.

Your ass slaps against his thighs as you ride him, the feeling of his heavy balls hitting you making you quiver with arousal.

“So good,” you moan out to him, as you watch his pretty, blushing face. “Oh, coryo. Your mistress is so proud of you.”

He whimpers, and wants to say thank you, but to no avail. You pull him in for a kiss. It’s an odd one, because of his lips being spread apart by the gag, but you do it anyway. You bury your face into his neck and reach down to rub your own clit. Coryo watches with a glazed, fucked out expression. You can feel yourself getting close, your cunt clenching down on him. Coryo desperately tries to hump against your pussy, tries to aid in getting you there, to that special peak that only he can bring you. His thrusts are weak, however; he’s close himself, the overstimulation now giving way to something incredible. He knows he’s going to fill your cunt to the brim.

“Coryo,” you groan out, desperate. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum around your fat cock. Do you want that, sweet boy? Do you want your mistress’ cum?”

He nods, fucking his hips up eagerly, as if to say “give it to me. Give it to me now.”

And you do. That coil in your belly snaps, white hot heat coursing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm. Coryo’s cock kicks at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, and he practically screams as his second orgasm washes over him. Your cunt milks him with everything it has, his warm spend kissing your cervix and leaving you satiated.

When you slow, the boy’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing shallowly. He must be tired, so incredibly tired.

His used, softening cock slips out of your hole when you move off of him. His cum drips sticky strings onto the bedsheets below you, and your filled hole gives you content.

Your fingers gently undo the ropes around Coryo’s wrists. He groans as his sore arms are finally able to relax, his eyes still shut as he moves in and out of a post orgasm sleep. Your hands remove the ballgag, too. You move the objects off the bed and watch as the boy curls up on his side. You find it quite endearing, and you smile.

After you clean up, pee, and find a new pair of pajamas to sleep in, you slip into bed. Coriolanus has never stayed the night before, but there’s always a time for firsts, right?

Soft snores leave his mouth, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. His body turns over, and his head rests gently on your tummy. He sleepily mumbles, something almost incoherent but you understand anyway.

“Thank you, mistress.”

#Coriolanus snow #Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus x fem! reader #Coriolanus snow smut #sub! Coriolanus snow #sub! Coriolanus snow x reader #Coriolanus snow fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games tbosas #Tom blyth #dom! reader

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chisatowo · 2 years

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Ok so now that the sekai unit swap au has all its swaps more or less let in stone, ig I should actually list em out now uhh

25ji -> l/n

Mmj -> vbs

Vbs -> 25ji

L/n -> wxs

Wxs -> mmj

#rat rambles #sekai posting #unit swap au #the last two are basically solely because of process of emimination lol I have very very little ideas for either #my only thing is that nene and shizuku will probably have tied together backstories #Ill figure stuff out for them eventually but rn the first three are my main interests #I should figure out the other two though for the sake of cross group dynamics #mainly I wanna get rui nene and honomi figured out #but I dont have a lot of ideas for them yet which makes sense as I havent read their stories yet dhdnhdkdh #Ill probably get more ideas once I do Im sure theres stuff to work with with both concepts #Im mainly worried abt l/n I feel like they could have a lot of potential but they could also just like. not. its hard for me to say rn #I hope their story gives me stuff to work with lol #but yeah obligitory disclaimer that my swap aus arent one to one swaps blah blah blah #so far I dont have anything as extreme as some of the band swap au cast but thats prone to change Im sure dhdjdhdj #lets just hope I dont kasumi some poor soul again lol

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jarofstyles · 2 months

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The Favor 3

hey... :) I know I've kept you waiting and I'm ready to hand her over to you. Here is the long awaited part 3!

Check out our Patreon for early access to new parts and 100+ Exclusive writings

The Favor Masterlist

WC- 10k

Warnings-dom/sub dynamic, oral sex, sprinkle of degradation, soft Dom h, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, h's filthy mouth, cumplay, etc.

---------

Y/N still had shaky knees by the time she got home that night. They hadn’t gone much further than that, his lips giving her a reward of kisses on her lips and neck as he had her lounge in his lap. To get used to his touch, he had claimed. It didn’t matter to her considering she felt like she was a bit touch starved and he was happy to supply his fix.

Danny wasn’t a bad boyfriend. She didn’t want to paint him in a bad light- but he didn’t do all the things she had originally expected. He didn’t cuddle her as often as she’d liked and claimed he ‘slept hot’ so he didn’t hold her in his sleep when she slept over. A year into their relationship and she was thinking maybe he was just getting a bit too comfortable.

She was trying not to let it go to her head, how good it had felt to have Harry’s big hands on her body and little kisses pressed to her. How he had been gentle but dominant with her, reminding her to give her his eyes, his words, her lips. He’d kissed her like it was his job and made her head spin, but she figured he must have a lot of good practice on how to be a good kisser.

When the phone rang the next day and she saw it was Danny, part of her didn’t want to answer. She still felt off about the fact he was okay with someone else touching her so intimately and made her feel so bad about wanting things in the bedroom, but the thing that bothered her the most was just how much she liked Harry touching her. She didn’t know much more about him but he had planned on her coming over to see him this weekend. They were going to actually play a little bit and that excited her to no end. There was no idea on what it was exactly they were going to do, but she knew she would do it for him.

“Hi.” She said when she finally picked up on one of the last few rings. “Sorry, I’m making food.” It wasn’t a lie. The water was on for pasta.

“It’s okay. I was just calling to ask how it went.” He said easily. It stung a bit, honestly. She clenched her jaw, unsure how he could be okay with her sleeping with someone else. Did he not know how intimate it was? How safe she had to feel? Clearly not, or she doubted he would let her do this.

“Went good. He’s really nice and patient.” She mumbled.

“Oh, good. He’s a good guy, even if his tastes are questionable.”

The girl felt herself stiffen. What the fuck? That wasn’t nice to say. Not about Harry and not about her. She was going to him for her ‘questionable’ tastes, and he never made her feel bad about it.

“Yeah, well. I’m seeing him this weekend. We’re taking the learning thing slow.” Her fingers picked at the hole in her jeans. “I just wanted to let you know. I’m not really… Comfortable sleeping with two people at once. So I think we need to hold off on our sex together while I do this.” It made her feel icky. Not that there was anything wrong with it, per say. But she didn’t like the idea of him touching her right after Harry.

“Oh.” He paused. “Okay. That’s fine. Are you still coming out to the bar this weekend though? Or are you and Harry going to be in his sex dungeon.” Now she was irked. Part of her had hoped for maybe a tiny smidge of jealousy. Maybe showing that he cared that she would be spending a lot of time with another man- but nothing. He breezed right past it. He also talked about Harry in a way she didn’t like the more it happened. Reducing him as solely a man who was a sexual deviant wasn’t nice, or true. He had a dog, he did woodworking, he had a nice house and obviously a good job. He liked music, had vintage band posters in immaculate condition hung up in his hallway. It wasn’t just about who or what he did in the bedroom.

“Don’t know. I’ll ask Harry.” She mumbled. Since she seemed to be his fucking girl for the time being. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

There was barely any time to hang up before she sniffled, eyes closing as she tried to fight the tears. She’s really hoped that maybe she would get an inkling of care or jealousy out of him. He must not have a clue about any of the things they were going to do, the trust it involved, the intimacy. Harry was teaching her slowly and he was gentle and kind while also keeping the dominant persona up. It made her melt.

So instead of calling her boyfriend back and crying to him, she took her phone out to text Harry.

Y/N: hiiiiii.

H: Hello.

Y/N: I had a question if that’s okay?

H: I have an answer, hopefully. Shoot.

Y/N: what exactly did you have in mind for this weekend?

Y/N: am I staying multiple days?

Y/N: trying to figure out the packing situation. :-)

Harry smiled down at his phone in his office. He was doing some emails but had abandoned them when he saw her name flash on his screen. He was thankful to hear from her, even more so that she was thinking about this weekend. She wasn’t having second thoughts.

H: Yes, multiple days. I was thinking you sleep at mine Friday and Saturday, spend some of the Sunday with me.

H: it’s up to you ultimately. In this situation, you’re in charge with how much or how little time you want to spend with me. It isn’t all going to be whips and chains, perhaps some food breaks in between.

Y/N: he’s got jokes?

H: a few. Don’t tell anyone. I can’t lose my mysterious persona.

Y/N: my lips are sealed.

Y/N: I told Danny I wasn’t going to have sex with him while I’m doing stuff with you.

Y/N: we didn’t do it a lot anyways but it feels wrong to do that when we’re doing the things we do. Is that okay?

Was it okay? Harry could feel the smirk on his face, painted there without his permission. It shouldn’t feel so good that she cut him off in order to spend time with him, but it did. He was still astounded that he was willingly letting this happen but now that he’d had a taste of Y/N, he wanted to continue. He’d teach her everything there was to know.

H: It’s perfectly fine. Anything that makes you comfortable, remember?

H: it’s probably best, anyways. You went for your testing, yes?

Y/N: yes sir 🫡 bright and early. Should have the results by Friday!!!

H: perfect. I’ve got mine done up too. You’re still on birth control too?

Y/N: mhm, I’ve got an IUD.

H: ouch. I heard those hurt to put in. But thank you for telling me.

Y/N: it sure isn’t fun. We should probably be put to sleep but they don’t care lol

H: I know. It’s a shame. I’m sorry that it hurt.

Y/N: it’s okay :-) no oopsie baby for me!!!

Y/N: are you planning to… you know… inside me?

That was something she hadn’t thought about, but the thought was making her hot now. She’d never not used a condom before, always heard it was messy to not, but something about it felt… erotic. Like being marked and claimed. Something that he could play into when they were doing a scene.

H: if you’d be comfortable with it, I’d love to. But it’s up to you. It’s your body and I respect what you want with it.

Yep. He had decided that he wanted to do that with her. Already he was breaking his normal limits but the idea had a strong hold on him. Especially knowing now that she wasn’t going to be sleeping with anyone else while they were together, it made him feel even more inclined to bend the rules he usually made for her. It was just… he wanted to give her everything. Let her experience the true intimacy of it. Plus he couldn’t deny the idea made him hard as stone.

H: though… overshare? I am partial to the idea of watching your cunt drip with my cum.

Y/N: I hope you know I’m blushing.

She was more than blushing. She was starting to get wet from the mere mention of it. Harry seemed to like to be blunt that way and there was something so hot about it, he had no fear of saying what he wanted. No matter how crass it may be.

Y/N: I think I’d like that, though. If everthing is good with my results- which they should be fine- I’m okay with that. I’ve never done it.

Harry felt himself twitch in his pants behind his desk. A groan audibly left his mouth as he placed his phone down for a moment, running his hand over his face. He shouldn’t like the knowledge he would be the first one bare inside of her. He would be the first one to cum in her. Fuck, he hated how much he loved the idea of it. This wasn’t his girl, wasn’t his to keep, but he was playing pretend like she was.

H: good to know, pet. I’m excited to explore with you.

H: you’re a lot of fun, you know that?

Y/N: I didn’t know that :-) thank you for telling me. I’m really looking forward to seeing you this weekend.

H: the feeling is mutual, darling. Very much so.

—-

Y/N felt the familiar tingle of nerves when she pulled into his house. He’d given her the gate code this time, which she punched in and drove herself through as the house took away her breath again. What she wouldn’t do to live in a house like this. It was a Pinterest dream.

Parking her car to the side, she grabbed her duffle bag and rounded the side to find Harry waiting at his garage door once again.

God, he was handsome.

He wore an open baby pink button up with a white tank top underneath and black trousers sitting higher up on his waist. His smile was soft as he watched her approach, stubble a bit more grown out than she remembered and his hair tousled in a sexy off hour type of vibe. To put it lightly, he looked like a model off duty and she felt a bit intimidated. This man found her attractive? She wasn’t insecure that way, but it was admittedly a stroke to her ego.

“Hi, Darling.” He hummed, reaching out to take her bag from her. “Drive alright?” His eyes scanned over her in appreciation. A dress, one that flirted over her thighs. A soft pink with a subtle floral pattern, cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, flat shoes and a little pearl necklace. “You look adorable.” She really did. The picture of flirty innocence, making him heat slightly when he realized she wore this for him. She had to of, considering he was the person she planned on spending the day with.

“You think?” The girl beamed, looking down at her outfit. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what to wear or what the plans were. I wanted to look… presentable.” She could feel her cheeks warming from how intently he looked at her. It was unlike what she was used to, like he was drinking in the details. If he looked at her like this now, how would she feel when she was completely bare? “The uh, the drive was alright. Thanks for asking.” She looked at her bag on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to take the bag, I can carry it!”

“Cute. No, my mother raised me right. Shouldn’t be carrying a thing, especially when you’re coming to stay with me.” He extended a hand. “C’mon, so you don’t catch a chill. Buttons is waiting for you.” The way her face lit up at the mention of his dog made something in his insides soften, her delicate hand slipping into his own and trusting him to lead. Harry knew he was lucky to spend this sort of time with her, and he wasn’t going to risk wasting a moment. All he’d been able to think about during the week was how she had felt under his palms.

As expected, his hand was dropped as they got inside and he said the release command for Buttons, letting her say hello to the excited animal. He whined and went in circles as Y/N giggled, brushing her hands over him and telling him in a soft voice that she had missed him so much. He had to check himself when he found it a bit too cute. Seeing her be this sort of soft was beyond attractive. “Do you want me to put this away on my own, or did you want to come with me?” He said after a few moments.

“Oh! May I come?” She looked up at him with soft eyes, kneeling on the floor. The vision was marred by his own filthy vision, imagining this exact scenario with a vibrator tucked inside of her needy pussy, tears in her eyes and his cock slipped from her mouth. He felt himself twitch in his trousers, trying to clear the rasp he knew would follow.

“There she goes. Asking for permission already.” His hand came down to stroke her hair, watching her eyes widen as she saw exactly what it was that she said. Her mouth opened to apologize, but he merely shook his head. “I like it, sweetheart. You look good like this.”

Y/N was burning between her thighs. It was the fastest she thinks she’d ever been aroused in her life. There was an intensity that radiated from him and a heat that crackled between them at her body reacted to his words. She hadn’t meant it like that, no. It was her trying to be polite, but this view was to her favor, too. Seeing him tower over her, his hand stroking her hair like she was the pet, feeding into a bit of a fantasy she had barely explored. That was the point of them, wasn’t it? It was just…. Y/N hadn’t expected for it to feel so good right off the bat. Had tried to write off their kisses and exchange last time as just initial excitement. It was clear now that it was far more than that. “Sorry.” She peeped, unsure of what else to say.

“None of that.” His scold was gentle as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger. “No apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re being a good girl for me already, Y/N.” The praise was sweet falling from his lips, smirk growing as he watched her clench her thighs in what she thought was probably a discreet manner. Buttons had ran off to his toy basket to play, losing interest once Y/N’s hands had fallen from him, but she stayed in her position. Did she even realize what a natural she was at this? When she’d expressed concerns about ‘not being good’ at this last time after this kissing had slowed, he’d been positive she was the perfect person for it- but this proved it.

The girl took a shaky inhale, smile painting her lips as she looked up at him with hesitancy. “May I get up?” Testing it out. It was difficult because all she wanted to do was please him, and she knew he’d written out terms but… she’d just walked in. It hadn’t been her intention to fall right into it, but they had. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about that.

Raspberry lips twitched as he let out a breathy laugh, nodding his head. “Very nice. Yes, you may. C’mon.” His hand was extended to hers and he helped lift her up, steadying her as she blinked at him. He merely gave her a comforting look before taking her hand in his again and leading her up the stairs. “Now, I’ve got two options. You can stay in the guest room, settle in there… or you can stay in my room, with me.” It was a loaded question, he knew. “You’re welcome to change your mind about either at any time, of course. It’s up to you.”

Y/N hadn’t expected the option to actually sleep in his bed with him. That felt… intimate. More intimate than she would have thought, but from what she had been taught so far? The whole thing was intimate. They weren’t doing just a scene, he was teaching her about this lifestyle and she felt excitement bubble in her tummy at the prospect of waking up next to him. He treated her so nicely like this. Surely, he was going to be a bit mean when they played and she craved that- but she had been craving that sort of intimacy desperately. Was it wrong to get her fill whilst she was here?

“May I sleep with you?” She asked with slight hesitation. It was also up to him, and though he had offered, she wanted to know his own preferences. “Is that something you’d like?” It was his house, she didn’t want to put him out.

And truthfully? Usually, he didn’t really care either way. Sometimes he got a bit itchy for alone time when it came to other arrangements he’d had but the man really couldn’t imagine being sick of Y/N. Not wanting to rub his hands all over her and have unadulterated access to her. To see her sleepy and soft in the morning light, see how he could mold her into his own body and possibly have a bit of morning sex. “I’d enjoy it if you did, yes.” He hummed, trying not to show his bias too much. Ultimately it was her decision to make.

“Okay.” She looked at him cautiously. “Then… I think I’d like to do that. Please.” Adding in the extra manners surely seemed to work in her favor, his smile brightening at it. It made her tummy flip flop, watching him look at her like that. It made her want to get more of it.

He’d shown her the guest room she could use anyway in case she wanted time apart from him- though he hoped that wouldn’t be the case- before opening the double doors to his bedroom.

It was a bit of a grand show off way, but he’d always liked the look of a suite. The doors opening and a tiny mini foyer before a hallway, opening up to the large bedroom. Hardwood floors and cream colored walls, a walk in closet to the left and the bathroom to the right as they walked through the hall, which he pointed out. His actual bedroom was quite large, with a fireplace, television, bookcase, large windows… the bed was on an elevated platform with four posters at the end. Her mind buzzed, knowing it was the perfect set up to tie her up. Leave her helpless. The dark red bedding popped against the cream and hardwood, somehow fitting his personality perfectly. It was clean, comfortable, but lived in.

“Wow, Harry. It’s gorgeous.” Her hand left his as she walked further into the room and looked at whole thing. The loveseat by the windows and bookcase, the incredible view over the hills. It was hard to imagine what this house would cost, but she had to think it was way more than she could fathom. He walked up to the bed and placed her bag there, arms crossed as he watched her pad across the room and take in details.

He liked the sight of her here. Her hair falling down her back and bouncing as she moved, she enjoyed the decor he put up and told him so. Harry did wonder if it was smart, keeping her in here with him. If he wasn’t going to set himself up for something painful considering he already felt a bit more for the girl than he should, but he couldn’t stop himself. Rationally he knew that she would probably go back to Danny after this was over and she had her ‘fill’ but… part of him hoped she wouldn’t. Even if she wasn’t with him, but someone who would give her what she wanted. What she needed. All without making her feel poorly about herself.

His hands itched as he watched her bend over to look at a photo frame on the bookcase, eyes falling down to her dress as it rode up and exposed the softness of her thighs. It was short, the dress, and he wondered if she’d done it on purpose. What she was wearing underneath all of it. Part of his mind wanted desperately to call her over, taunt her about the fact she was teasing him and fuck her throat as a ‘punishment’- but he didn’t want to scare her by moving too quickly. Instead, he would give himself a reward for his self control.

“Y/N? Come here please.” He stood by the bed and watched as she perked up, trotting over to him with a questioning look on her face. She didn’t do a thing to stop him as his hand cupped her chin, tilting her face up so he could look at her. “You’re still happy to be here, yeah?” His voice was soft as he tried to read her reactions.

It was hard for her to think when he held her this way, but she nodded insistently. “Of course. I’ve… I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” She admitted. It had been the whole week of texting and check-ins to make sure she had good days at work and it had become a routine she really liked. Their kissing and his firm tone had haunted her mind the entire time, making her crave more of it.

“Yeah? You have?” He hummed. “Should have known. You’ve been a sweet girl since I’ve met you, but… I didn’t expect this out of you.” His thumb ran over her bottom lip. “It’s a welcome surprise. Though I never thought I’d find myself in this position with you… I’m glad you’re trusting me enough to help guide you.” It made him feel really fucking good, honestly. Yes, Danny may have suggested it but she was the one with the choice. “I just want to remind you that if you’re ever uncomfortable, you safe word for me. If you want me to stop, tell me. If I’m too mean and you’re hurt, if anything I do hurts past the point of pleasure, if you’re panicking? Stop me. I’ll never, ever be angry with you for doing that.”

Y/N seemed to be the type to try and push through true discomfort to appease people. He didn’t want that with him. Of course, he would be pushing many limits. Physically and emotionally. But he didn’t want to cross those. It was a large responsibility any time he took a sub, but this was the biggest one yet. Someone he already knew and cared for, even if it was minor- and it was her first time dipping her toe into it. He was setting the tone for her experiences. It was a bit scary, though he’d never tell her that, but he was up for the challenge. “Promise me you’ll do that. For me. Not just as a dominant but as your friend and someone who cares for you.” He sighed, giving her a firm look.

“Promise. I promise, Harry.” She murmured, understanding the gravity of what he said. He took her safety seriously and he cared for her. “I’ll be a good girl for you. Swear it.”

Harry grinned, nodding his head. “I know you’ll be a good girl for me, pet. Knew it since you’ve walked in. You jus’ want to make me happy, don’t you?” His tone shifted, just slightly enough to make her body buzz. It was smooth, something reminiscent of last time she was here. At her nod, he let out a breath and smeared his thumb over her bottom lip again. “Good. You know…. Been thinking about these all week.” Her mouth, she realized. Something turned in her stomach and erupted into butterflies, eyes on his face as she tried to decipher what was going on in his mind. “M’gonna feed you and make sure you’re comfortable in a moment, but can I taste you again?” He hummed. “Do I need permission to kiss you this weekend, or is it something you’ll let me take as I please?”

The butterflies melted in her stomach, settling lower and heated her body up in a way she knew was arousal. Excitement. He was still so careful with her, tender, but she couldn’t wait until he was… less so. Until he took what he wanted, like he said, made her bend to his will. Told her what to do. Boss her around. But she understood he couldn’t read her mind and how she was fucking gagging for him to use her, to touch her, so she nodded.

“Words, Pet. Remember?” He raised an eyebrow and made her breathing catch as his grip on her face tightened.

“Sorry- sorry. Yes. You can… you can do whatever you want. I like when you kiss me.” She peeped, knowing that she was handing herself over to the man on a silver platter with all the dressings. “I want that.”

“There we go.” He cooed. “So good. Thank you for correcting that- don’t make me remind you again.” His face got closer to hers. “I’m glad our wants seem to be in agreement.”

Y/N’s brain went haywire as his lips pressed to hers before it went quiet. So quiet, so smooth as his mouth sipped at hers ever so gently before applying a bit more pressure. Her face was still firmly held between his fingers as he kissed her, her hands falling to his button up and curling into the fabric as she did her best to return the kiss the way he wanted. She’d never been kissed like this, where it was so abundantly clear that he was in charge. There was no fighting for dominance- Harry owned her mouth.

When he pulled away, the whimper fell from her mouth and she pouted as he chuckled, wiping his thumb over the corner of her mouth to clean her up. “S’okay, darling. Don't want you too worked up yet.” He brushed his nose against yours. “M’gonna take good care of you and your needy cunt. Don’t worry about that. But I’ve got to get you unpacked and some food in your belly before I can make you cum. Need your strength.” He sighed, pressing one last peck to her lips before pulling back. “C’mon. I’ve got a drawer cleaned out for you and the second sink is yours.

Y/N followed him on wobbly knees, wondering just how fucked she was going to be when this is how she felt from mere kisses.

—-

Dinner was eaten with a comfortable chatter between the two of them. It was surprisingly easy to just…. Be. Harry was a comfortable person to be around and she thought maybe that’s why she felt the way she did for him. Preening at his praise for her new project she shared with him, like a pup waiting for a biscuit. She’d trailed him around the house, going outside with him to take Buttons on his walk after he ate dinner where he had shown her around his yard. His pool, jacuzzi, garden, the tennis court and rock climbing wall- he seemed to have the works, and she was very jealous. What she wouldn’t do to live in this sort of house. Thankfully she was spending time here now, getting to pretend this was her life.

Standing on the deck, he whistled for Buttons to come back to them before turning to Y/N. “Think we’re getting close to having our fun together.” He hummed. “Tonight we’ll play a bit, get a feel for each other. Tomorrow, I’ll take you out for lunch. Then I was thinking…” he crossed his arms over his body and Y/N gawked at his arms. He was incredibly fucking hot. “I’ll take you to the toy shop. Let you pick something out to try. S’that something you’d be comfortable with?”

Y/N had to admit she didn’t expect him to do any of that. Not take her out, nor to a sex shop to get a toy for her, but the thought made her dizzy. It was so nice of him, so thoughtful, and still slightly dirty. She loved the idea, really, especially to spend time with him. “Yeah! I’ve never… I’ve never been to one of those before.” Her admittance was quiet. “Always been too nervous to go on my own. He never liked the idea of going even just to look, so I’m excited that you’d be willing to take me.”

God, Danny was a pussy, wasn’t he? You didn’t even have to be into kinky shit to go to a sex shop. Harry felt for her. Having that urge, that itch to scratch, and feeling like no one around you would accept you for it had to be an uncomfortable and lonely feeling. “Well I have a favorite shop and money to be spent. So allow me to treat you this weekend, yeah? More than happy to do it and let you experience new things.”

Y/N felt guilt at the prospect of him spending money on her, but he didn’t seem to be the type to take no for an answer. He’d had dinner ready for them, had helped her unpack her bag, ultimately taken care of her since she’d walked into the house. Even wiped the corner of her lip when she’d gotten a bit of sauce on it. It came so naturally between them that she knew she should probably be a bit concerned but she couldn’t be. Not with how good it felt. “Okay. I can- I hope you don’t feel forced fo pay for me. I have money I can spend too.” She peeped. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage or anything. You’re the one helping me.”

Harry clicked his tongue, brushing it off. “Well you’re the one letting me get wrapped in that snug little cunt eventually, yeah? Letting me throw you around a bit and have fun with you… so, that’s enough reason for me to want to do it.” He turned to her and pulled her against him, making her meet his eyes again. “For the time you’re alone with me, you’re mine. You told him he can’t touch you while you’re with me, yeah? M’the only one getting access to you like this?”

“Yes, sir.” She breathed, feeling herself melt in his grip. His tone had changed and she felt it between her thighs as he held the back of her neck.

“Then that settles it. I take care of what’s mine.” His mouth pressed to hers, stealing a kiss from her lips. “You’ve been doing well tonight. I think I want to play with you a bit now. Go upstairs to the bedroom and sit on your knees, right next to the bed. Hands in your lap.” The visible perk up made him want to smile, but he kept his face straight. Y/N was the prettiest thing, and he was more than looking forward to touching her now.

Y/N was more than eager, pushing past the nerves and nearly jogging up the stairs as she made her way to his room. He’d lock the house up and settle Buttons for the night, and she would wait patiently for him.

The hardwood was cold against her knees, but she did as he asked. Kneeling with her hands in her lap, she tried not to let her mind wander. Instead, she looked around the room and bought time as it rolled by. It was a bit uncomfortable, she couldn’t lie. She had to shift around, but the pain excited her a little bit. Her eyes had kept going to the clock by the bed, watching as 10 minutes passed. Each one made her more and more squirmy with the anticipation, but by the 13th minute she could hear his footsteps approaching and she settled into the final position, watching him walk towards her.

The man looked tall. Powerful. Someone she had to give into. She craved it. He stopped right in front of her, a gentle hum leaving his lips as he looked down, his hand coming over her head to caress her lightly. “Look at what a good listener you are, pet.” He murmured, fingers finding her cheek and brushing over them as she gave him her eyes. “This is a beautiful sight to walk into. S’where you belong, isn’t it?” His voice was… different. It held a different tone to it, a cadence that he didn’t have when speaking in other instances. It made her wet. “Belong on your knees, waiting for me to tell you what to do. Gorgeous”. He sighed, appreciating the view he had.

“Yes, sir.” She whispered, mouth suddenly dry as her hands itched to grab his belt and pull him closer so she could feel more of his body heat.

“You remember your safe word, sweetheart?” He asked, watching as she nodded. When she didn’t say anything else, his hand fisted her hair and tugged back, making her gasp loudly at the slight sting. It only made her feel hotter, mouth opening but failing to say anything. “What have I told you, hm? Told you to stop with the nodding and use your words, like a good girl.” He warned.

“M’sorry, I’m sorry sir. Yes, I remember.” She winced as the grip on her hair lessened, missing it a little bit as his lips twitched up. Why had she liked that so much? He’d stolen her breath with that move, and they’d only just begun.

“There we are. Don’t make me ask you again, or m’not gonna be as nice.”’he smoothed her hair back, taking a step forward. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to do with you. It’s exciting, you know? Having free reign over your body. A big responsibility, but it’s one I welcome.” Harry loved it now, seeing her reactions to him. She was doing her best to be good already. “It’s hard to plan when there’s so many things I want to show you. But I think we can have some of the basics now. Make use of those hands and take off my belt.”

Y/N’s shaky hands gripped the belt and slipped the tongue through the loop, the metallic sound filling the otherwise quiet room. Getting the latch undone, she began to pull at it and watched as the leather ran through the loops until the accessory was off of his body. He didn’t say anything, merely stepping closer to her. So close that her mouth was inches away from his groin, making her excitement build. He was hard. She could see it, the print of him through the fabric, and she wanted to touch.

“Look what you’ve done to me, darling. Got me hard just thinking about the filthy things M’gonna do to you.” He murmured, using his grip on her hair to pull her closer to him. Her nose brushed against his cock, Harry pressing her face against his pants with little effort. “Give me some kisses. Show me how much you want it.”

One thing was certain- Y/N was eager. The man watched as she nodded, lips pursing against the fabric as she kissed from the base all the way to the tip. Her breath was warm and leaked through the fabric, making his stomach tighten a bit. What got him was the fact that he could tell she enjoyed this, even being nervous. She continued, keeping her hands in her lap like the good girl she was for him. “There’s my good girl.” He cooed. “Do you want to take them off? Want to make me feel good and wrap those puffy lips around my cock, suck me down?” He mumbled, watching as she nodded- though she paired it with words this time.

“Yes, sir, I’d really like to. I want to make you feel good. May I?” She was a dream, really. Looking at him with pleading eyes, making him want to groan at how lucky he was to get such an eager little thing. He got to explore her fantasies with her and that was an honor.

“You may. Go ahead and take my pants off- but don’t touch my cock until I tell you to.” Harry was impressed thus far. Y/N was doing an incredible job, and he could see it on her face. How she was leaning into this, that she was a natural at it. Like she was slipping right into a roll she was made for. Her hands were shaky as they pulled his zipper down, fingers gently tugging at the waistband and leading them down his hips. He didn’t offer much help, watching as they were quickly pulled down to his ankles and she looked back up at him, making him lift his leg to let her slip them off completely. “Excellent.” He praised, watching as her fingers went to his briefs but stopped, eyes widening as she caught herself. He hadn’t asked her to take those off.

“I’m impressed.” He smiled, watching as she stayed where she was. “You were about to do something I didn’t ask for but you remembered. M’glad you caught that.” He could feel himself throbbing in his briefs though, and he desperately wanted her mouth on him. He’d been dreaming about it for days. “Go on. You can take those off.” Harry was arrogant at times, but the swell of his ego was massive as she pulled the fabric over his cock and her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her motions of taking the briefs off were even more hurried than the trousers, a little chuckle leaving his mouth. “Take me in your hand, give me a few tugs.”

Y/N was gentle with it, her warm hand shaking slightly as she curled it around the base of his cock. It wasn’t often she would call a dick pretty, but if any she had ever seen deserved that title? It was his. Thick, slightly curved with a ruddy pink tip. Leaking a little bit, making her pant. She wanted it in her mouth. The deprived girl wanted him to push her down on him until her nose brushed the groomed thatch of hair on his groin that led up to a little happy trail. Never in her life had her mouth gotten wet to the point she thinks she could drool over the sight of something, let alone a person. “You’re so pretty, sir.” She whispered, giving him a stroke. He was hot in her hand and she could feel him twitch in her palm, scooting forward on her knees so he was directly in front of her face.

“You think so?” He grinned. “Thank you, baby.”

Baby. Baby. Baby? Y/N liked that nickname a lot. Of course she had been called that before, but something about hearing it from him in this context made her whine. Audibly whine, embarrassing the fuck out of her as she hadn’t meant to do it out loud.

“Oh, you like that then? Sweet little baby.” The man crooned, stroking her hair back. “I have to admit… I didn’t expect you to be gagging for it like you are. But I’m pleasantly surprised.” He watched her pull his cock again, stroking with a gentle squeeze that made him exhale harder. “Prettiest baby, gagging for my cock. Are you going to let me down that throat, hm? Choke on me a little bit?” He purred, watching her eyes widen. “I know you will. But first, I want you to give me some kisses.” He was taunting her a little and he knew that, but he wanted to watch her squirm.

“Yeah- I, I really want it Sir. I wanna make you happy.” She rubbed the tip over her lips, his precum wetting them in a filthy vision that had Harry wanting to curse. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll listen.” Soft, hot lips began to kiss up the length of him. Wet kisses, her lips curling around the sides as she pulled back and kissed the other side as well. She wasn’t precise with it, choosing instead to let herself be a little sloppy with her kisses and watch his reaction.

“You are. Doing so fucking well, pet.” His praises made her smile against his length, which really was the filthiest, most lovely thing he’d ever seen. “You really are dirty, aren’t you? Don’t want to pull away from my cock so you smile on it. Do you think you can do it with me stuffed in your throat?” Realistically he knew she couldn’t- but her answer pleased him anyway.

“I’ll try anything for you.” She blinked up at him, resting the tip at her lips as she smattered kisses around the sensitive area. It took everything in her not to peek her tongue out and lick over the slit, but she had to be good for him. That’s all she wanted.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He mumbled, watching her give him her best pleading look. “Since you can’t safe word with me in your mouth, pinch my thigh if you don’t want any more. I’m going to let you start, but I’ll take control shortly after.” There was a pause. “M’gonna be gentler because it’s your first time with me, but in the future I’ll push you to your limits. Remember what I told you.” He’d never be angry or upset if she wanted to stop.

Y/N took the permission though, quickly pulling the head of his cock into her mouth and humming in relief. She’d been dreaming about this all week, just as he had. When he’d initially put her on her knees for him the first time they’d met up, she had hoped this would be the case/ but it was worth the wait with his fingers carding through her hair and taking a handful at the back of her head, loosely waiting as she sucked.

She loved oral. Really, she did, but there was something about Harry that made her all the more excited to do this for him. Perhaps it was the praise or just his energy, but she could feel the dull throbbing of her clit as she took a bit more of him down.

“Pretty mouth.” He mumbled, wiping the corner of her stretched lips was she got a bit messier. “Been thinking about it, having you here. Love that you’re eager for it. Are you this much of a cockslut for everyone else?” She tried her best to deny it, a muffled ‘mm-‘mm’ leaving her throat as she tried to take more of him down. “No? Only for me?” This was easier to confirm, bobbing her head a little bit. Harry let out a hiss as he watched her take more, the first tear slipping from her eyes without permission. He was making her eyes water already.

“M’glad to hear that. This is going to be your favorite cock, I bet.” He started to take over now, pushing her hand away. “Behind your back- good, perfect listening.” He praised, slowly pushing her further down on his length. “This is where you’re going to dream about being. On your knees for me, a bit helpless. But I think…. Fuck.” His eyes clenched shut for a moment as she gagged on him. He watched for any sign to stop, but she merely opened her wet eyes and looked up at him. “I think you like being a helpless little thing. You want me to use you.” He was getting down to it now, thoroughly impressed- but he felt her hand come up and tap his thigh, immediately pulling back. The girl let out a choked noise, Harry pausing and stroking her hair back, looking down in concern. “Okay, baby?” He whispered, watching her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. “Need a break?”

“Y-yeah I’m okay. We can keep going but...” Her voice was hoarse. “I just- I couldn’t take anymore.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I wanted to take all of it. I tried-“ she was immediately cut off with Harry cooing at her, lifting her head up and his face bent down to look at her.

“None of that. It’s okay, darling.” He smiled. “M’just a bit too big for you to take yet. I know. It’s disappointing but…. You’ll learn.” He thumbed away a tear. “We can work on training that throat to take what it was made for. Okay?” Despite how dirty his words could be, he was still comforting her. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re only just now learning how to be the little whore you’ve always wanted to be.” He got down further, pulling her face up for a messy kiss before straightening up. “How about this. You’ll let me fuck your mouth, but I won’t try and make you take it all. Really want to cum on this pretty face, been aching for it all day.”

Y/N was burning from his words, the lack of air, her throat. All of it felt good, though. She loved how he spoke to her, the zip of the degrading ruining her panties. She’d been so disappointed in not being able to take all of him, but she liked the idea he proposed. Training her. It made her think about spending more time with him. Sure, it was supposed to be a short term thing but… she was going to take her time if this was the only shot she had of living out her fantasy.

“Sound good to you, pet? You think you can handle it?”

“Yes, sir. Please fuck my mouth.” She whimpered, aching for him to get back into it.

And he did. Fuck, he really did.

Harry was gentle at first, scooping her hair up into a makeshift ponytail. She was kneeling on the bed platform, giving her more ease to suck at the level she was at and him the ability to move her as he pleased. At first he pulled her down onto his prick, easing her into it. Giving some semblance of choice- but when she proved she could take him, he began to truly fuck her mouth.

He wasn’t brutal, no. It wasn’t exactly what she expected- it was better. Firm with his strokes but only pushing her to the limit, making he drool around his cock as her hands were held behind her back. Her arms were starting to ache a bit from holding the position but she liked the burn. She liked that he held her head still while she laid her tongue flat and let him thrust into her mouth, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in. Even more so, she loved how he talked to her.

“There she is. This is what my greedy pet wanted, isn’t it?” He purred, eyes dark as he looked down at her. “Taking it so well. Messy little thing.” His gaze was hooded as he pushed her down as far as he knew she was comfortable, pushing a bit and making her throat flex around him as he let out a deep groan that went straight to her cunt. “Fuck, yes. Work that little throat for me. Fucking perfect.” He hissed.

It was hard to see with her eyes tearing up but what she did see was perfection. Seeing him lose that control as he watched her swallow his cock, her lips strained from being wrapped around it. Her jaw was going to ache something fierce but it was worth it.

“Look so innocent, but you’re a deprived whore behind closed doors. Fucking love it, you know that?” He breathed. “Letting me show you how good it feels… how it’s good to let go and be the brainless slut you want to me. Just hand all that control over to me, open that pretty mouth and do what you were born to do. Pleasure me.” He was testing the dirty talk, giving her a glimpse of the degradation she had asked for but not go too hard into it. With each sentence he could see her clenching her thighs, he could feel how she sucked harder over him as he spoke. She liked it.

Harry was in heaven. Of course he’d expected a bump in the road, multiple really, considering no dynamic was perfect right off the bat- but Y/N was taking to it really well. He’d been impressed with how much of him she could take, the fact she wanted her mouth fucked, and to be honest? She was good. Sloppy, her inexperience in this showing, but really fucking good. He’d happily train her mouth and throat to take him all the way, but this was just as good. His head was swimming in pleasure, her hair tight in his hand as he watched her saliva drip down her chin and onto her poor dress, how she took it without complaining. The girl was a goddamn dream, and he knew this had been the right decision.

“Messy little baby. Making a fucking mess on my cock and your dress. It’s a good thing you’re not going to need to wear it for much longer.” He smiled, looking a bit drunk.Y/N loved being the one to make him look like that. “Really, you’re not gonna… not gonna need much clothing with me. Doubt you’ll want to wear any with how needy you are. Gonna bend over and offer yourself up to me.” He is breath hitched as he pushed deep, letting himself hold it there before pulling out and letting her cough. Y/N, the filthy thing, smiled at him with her wet eyes and soaked chin.

“Yes, Sir.” She breathed. “I want you to cum. Please…” she moaned as he rubbed the wet head of his cock over her cheek, painting it with her spit and his precum. She knew she had to look a mess, but Harry was giving her a look that made her feel like she was going to be devoured. “Please, I’ve been a good girl. I took you, I’ll keep getting better- I want your cum.” Her voice turned that tiny tinge whiny, just like he had predicted.

“You really are a cockslut. Should I add cumslut to your list of names too?” He chuckled in disbelief. His hand stroked firmly over his prick, smearing it over her face as her lips pursed to kiss it as it passed over. “Fuck me. Where did that shy little thing go? She’s gone away and left me with a filthy excuse of a pet.” He lowered his voice. “Love that. I think I can give you my cum. M’so close.” He head tipped back slightly as he pushed back into her mouth, taking a few dips in the wet heat. The only thing that could beat this was cumming in her cunt. Watching it drip out- but this would be a very close second.

“Beg me for it.” He ordered, pulling out and stroking right in front of her face. The dominant could feel it it in his balls as they tightened, watching her genuine need. “Be a good little pet, ask me for my load all over your pretty face.”

There was no acting here. “Please, please give me your cum sir.” She whined, panting as she pleaded. “I want it so much, I was a good girl and I- I need it. I want to be messy with your cum, I want to taste it.” She stuck her tongue out for a moment, letting him smack the tip over it a few times before he pulled back again. Wasn’t good enough.

“I’ve been thinking about it and touching myself imagining you all week- and, and I really really want you to cum on me. Make me dirty. I’ll do anything.” Her eyes watered again, “please? Please, sir.”

Harry liked that a bit too much. Y/N was a vision on her knees for him, with her wet face and teary eyes, a glow on her skin that only reminded him of how lucky he truly was to be in this sort of position. He was the first one to give her the things she’d been craving for god knows how long and she truly looked desperate for it. The poor thing was tearing up, falling slightly into that space he had been curious to see just at the prospect of his cum. He couldn’t hold back on her anymore, not when she had been deprived of most of the other things she wanted.

“Tongue out. Stick your fucking tongue out, and give me your eyes.” His words were chased through clenched teeth as he felt his stomach tightening, her pink tongue laid out and her breathing erratic as she nearly whimpered for him as he rubbed the head of his prick over her tongue. His eyes were glued to her, watching a single tear start to slip down her flushed cheeks- and that was it. He’d always been good at holding back his orgasm before but he couldn’t control this one, a heady groan echoing in the room as one hand held her head still whilst the other milked himself of his load. Watching it paint the pad of her tongue, some dripping down her chin as she tried her best to keep it all in her mouth.. She was such a good girl. It was in her nature, he could tell, and he had been the one to experience her first appearance. Her first bloom as she puffed against his cock, staying still while he fisted himself, making sure to drain every last drop from her balls on her waiting tongue. She deserved it. “There we are… there’s my pretty pet. Keep it on your tongue. Don’t swallow.” He could feel his legs slightly weaken as he regretfully pulled himself away. He needed a minute before he could do something else, but already he could feel his heat seeded in his tummy just by the view.

It was hard not to be obsessed with the image.

“Do you want to spit it out, darling?” His voice was softer now, hand that clenched her hair letting go to gently stroke her surely sore scalp. She whined in her throat though, shaking her head as her brows furrowed looking up at him. Christ. “You want to swallow it?” A nod. He’d underestimated just how dirty she was. “Alright, baby. Swallow it then, you were good. Can have what you want.”

Y/N looked up at him obediently, keeping their eye contact as he watched her swollen lips close and her throat bob from her swallowing. Gingerly tipping her head further back, he thumbed the spillage from the corner of her mouth across her lips and pressed inside, dragging the cum over the pad of her tongue and smiling as she gave him an unsure look. “Suck for me. There you go… M’so proud of you.” He cooed, gently pulling her body up to sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling, hm? Throat a little sore?” The dominant kneeled between her now split legs, thumbing over her bare knee as he checked in on her.

To be honest, she looked incredible. And he wasn’t just saying that because a dribble of his cum had gotten on her tits. She looked happy. A shy smile on her flushed face and a glow to her skin, eyes hazy and soft, this was the ideal he had for anyone he played with. Happy. He’d gone easy on her to start, but he could only imagine how fucked out he could get her later on down the line. When he pushed her to the limits and she became even more proud of herself for pleasing him, drunk on orgasm and giggly in that space only someone like him could get her to.

“M;okay.” She peeped, cautiously laying her hand on top of his. “Can I hold your hand? Is that okay?”

Harry felt his heart grow a little, smiling fondly as he flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers. Their joined hands were brought to his mouth and a spattering of kisses was given to her knuckles, a show of appreciation for her and fondness over the cute little shit she did. “Fucking adorable. Y’know that, darling?” He chuckled under his breath. “Need to check in on you though. Make sure you know just how incredibly you did, that you were okay with everything that just happened, if you need anything to change. I went a bit easy on you for our first time.”

Y/N’s head was swimming in a good way. Of course it had been far more intense than any blowie she had ever given but that was the point. Harry had been the one in control all while giving her a little leeway. Her face had been fucked, albeit not as much as she had hoped. Her body was still hot over the idea of him training her throat to take him. There were so many things that should be floating through her head right now but it was hard to think further than Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. He’d been so good to her, given her that taste she had been gagging for and now she knew she wanted more. This feeling was addictive. Maybe her head was swimming from the slight lack of air, but maybe that meant she’d be even more into breathplay than she imagined. Either way, she was happy.

“M’so happy.” She admitted, the rasp of her voice making her toes curl. He had done that to her. “I liked it all. Liked how you pulled my hair, how you talked to me a-and that you just… you fucked my face. I’ve wanted it for ages.” Her face felt hot even admitting that but there was nothing but acceptance and pride on his face as he nodded, lips brushing against her hand. His stubble was scritchy and she liked that. “Was a little disappointed I couldn’t take it all though. You’re… you’re bigger than anyone i’ve been with.”

“Didn’t expect you to.” The man laughed. “I know it’s a lot for your throat, sweetheart. Hasn’t been properly fucked before. Stroking my ego a little with that, but I’m patient. I’ll make sure you can take it soon. Just takes a little practice.” his face leaned closer to hers. “Luckily, I’m full of that when it comes to teaching you. You’re a lot of fun.” His lips pressed against hers chastely, pulling back with a pleased look on his face. “I know you’re probably wanting a little bit of relief, throbbing for me to touch you, aren’t you?” He hummed, watching as she eagerly nodded, blinking at him in hope. However, he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her. “But I think…” The evil little smile on his face made her nervous. “This would be a good time to show you your own bit of patience.”

662 notes · View notes

wintfleur · 3 months

Note

can we have a blurb of stella and her siblings when there younger, maybe stella getting hurt?

ꔫ broken bratz dolls and hello kitty band-aids

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff, little bit of angst, siblings being siblings. w; mentions of blood and sibling fights, Stella being the cutest, Jack just having a emotional moment, Luke being Stella’s protector, and Quinn being a tired big brother. wc; 2k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I love writing the Hughes sibling dynamic sm! Thank you for requesting, I really hope you guys enjoy this!! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your thoughts!! )

°. — ( Stella is 5, Luke is 6, Jack is 8, Quinn is 10 )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

It was a regular day for the four Hughes siblings. The two eldest brothers were dressed in their favorite jerseys and hockey gear as they practiced shooting. The youngest brother was playing with his dump trucks in the dirt, and Stella was playing in the grass with her bratz dolls, she was wearing a pink sundress that matched with her cloe doll. Her hair was a mess, she had asked Luke to try to recreate the ponytails one of her dolls had with her hair.

“And Jack Hughes scores” Jack cheers after his goal, a big smile on his lips and even though Quinn was annoyed that he scored on him the older brother couldn't help but smile too as Jack celebrates. Stella paid no attention to her cheering brother as she moved from the grass to the driveway, looking for the missing guitar for her doll. Her eyes light up when she sees it laying in the middle of the driveway, it must have fallen out of her basket when she ran from Luke who was chasing her with a handful of dirt earlier.

“Watch my sick celly” Jack shouts at Quinn, holding his stick out and spinning around. The grin on Jack's face from scoring quickly vanishes at the horrifying sound of the toe of his hockey stick smacking against something as he spins around. Stella was so caught up in her own imagination to notice her brother and his stick until it's too late. Jack’s eyes widen in fear as he watches Stella fall back on her butt, the doll in her hands falling and breaking. Her favorite doll.

Quinn and Luke's eyes are immediately drawn to the loud sound of the smack and their eyes widen at the sight of their little sister on the ground of the driveway and Jack standing in front of her with his hockey stick in the air. The three brothers watch as blood starts to drip down from her quivering lip and down her now red chin, her big brown eyes are immediately filled with tears that quickly roll down her face. She silently cried for a few seconds as she was still in shock, but her brothers watched as she brought her dirty hands to cover her bloody lip, loud sobs leaving her body. It happened so fast.

Quinn immediately skated to her side, dropping down to his knees and trying to pry her dirty hands from her face. He muttered reassuring words to Stella, trying to convince her to move her hands so he could see but she just cried harder. Quinn looked at Jack who still stood there in shock, there was so much blood coming from her lip and dripping down her face and onto her pink dress, Quinn shouted at Jack to go get mom.

Jack quickly nodded and dropped his stick, turning around and quickly skating towards the front door. Luke, who was watching the scene with a look of fear, turns into a look of anger as he drops his toy truck and rushes to his feet, a sound of surprise and pain leaving Jack's lips when he's jumped on from behind. Jack lets out a cry of pain when he feels his chin get cut on the driveway at the impact.

“Get off me” Jack screeches at Luke, a shout of pain follows when Luke tugs on Jack's hair, his knee digging into his back. Quinn looks at his brothers in disbelief, yelling at them to stop. Luke, who was angry at Jack for hurting Stella, doesn't stop his attack. Stella starts to sob louder, absentmindedly leaning against Quinn as Jack and Luke continue to shout at each other. Quinn tries to calm Stella but he himself was getting overwhelmed, thankfully the shouts of Jack and Luke got the attention of their mother who was getting ready to start on dinner.

“What is going on here” Ellen shouted as she rushed out of the house, she left her children alone for 5 minutes to preheat the oven and she's welcomed back with a brawl. Ellen moves to her two youngest sons and pulls an angry Luke off a crying jack. “Luke, get off your brother now!”

“Mom!” Quinn shouts her name to get her attention. Ellen looks away from her sons and a worried gasp leaves her lips at the sight of her bleeding and crying daughter. She rushes over to her only daughter; she didn't hear Stella's cries over her son's shouts. “It's okay, let me see” Ellen coos as she pulls Stella's hands from her face, Ellen holds in her wince at the sight and moves her hands under Stella's armpits to pick her up and bring her to her chest.

“Inside you two, i expect a good explanation on what happened” Ellen scolds her two youngest boys as she rushes a still crying stella into the house. Quinn helps Jack up from the ground while a glaring Luke follows after Stella and their mom, Jack pushes Quinn's hand off him and quickly wipes off his tears before shouting at Quinn. “I’m a terrible brother! Luke and Stella hate me!”

“They don't hate you” Quinn starts but before he could finish comforting his brother, Jack quickly skates off into the open garage, jack pressing on the button to close the garage behind him. Quinn sighs and takes off his skates before entering the house through the front door, he knows jack would need a moment to himself, he was an emotional boy.

Quinn hears the sound of Stella's crying as he walks into the kitchen. Stella was sitting on the counter with Luke by her side, holding her hand while their mom stood in front of her and tried to clean the blood off her face so she could clean the cut and bandage it. Stella's eyes go to Quinn, and she immediately cries out for her big brother “Quinny it hurts.”

“I know but moms gonna fix it all up and it won't hurt anymore” Quinn spoke softly as he moved to his mother's side, holding onto Stella's other hand. Stella squeezes her brother's hand tightly when Ellen starts to clean the cut. Stella sniffles and blinks away her tears “Promise?”

“I promise” Quinn promises, softly squeezing her hand back. Ellen smiles proudly at her eldest child, before pulling out Stella's favorite band aids. Jack quietly walked into the kitchen, and he felt even more guilty as he watched his mom fix up Stella's lip and chin. He honestly didn't mean to hurt her, he would never! Jack makes eye contact with Luke who is already glaring at him. Yeah, he felt really guilty.

Jim was not expecting this sight when he walked into the living room after he got home from work. It was oddly quiet in the house, and that was rare. His four children were sitting side by side on the couch, Luke sat at the end of the couch with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. Sitting to his left was Stella, she was now in a new dress and her chin and lip was decorated with her favorite hello kitty band aids.

On Stella's other side was Quinn who was holding her hand as she rested her head on his shoulder. Then there was Jack who sat on the other side of Quinn, his arms were crossed as well as he angrily looked down at his socks. Jack, who looked up once his dad walked into the living room could be seen with a pink hello kitty band aid on his chin.

“What's going on here?” Jim asked his wife and children, moving to stand by his wife's side. Ellen was standing in front of their children, just finished questioning their kids about what had occurred outside. Ellen greeted her husband with a smile and crossed her arms as she looked back at her kids “Why don't you guys tell your father what happened, hmm.”

None of the kids spoke up, Quinn sat there as still as a statue as Stella snuggled closer to him and hid her face in his shoulder. Luke kept on giving Jack the side eye with a glare on his face and Jack refused to look up from his dinosaur patterned sock covered feet. Ellen sighed and tilted her head to look at her husband, telling him what had happened between their children.

“Luke, why did you hit your brother?” Jim questioned his youngest son, crossing his arms as well. It wasn't like Luke to start fights with his siblings, especially physical ones. Jack rolled his eyes while Quinn turned his head to look at his youngest brother, curious on what he was going to say. Luke sent jack an accusatory glare before looking up at his parents “He made stella cry and break her doll.”

Jack's jaw and fists clench as he listens to Luke retell the story of him hitting Stella with his stick, he felt tears of anger form in his eyes the more Luke talked. Jack couldn't hold it in anymore, he jumped to his feet and shouted out emotionally “It was an accident” Jack continued to speak loudly as fresh tears rolled down his face, his fists clenched at his side “I didn't mean to hurt you stella! I’m really sorry, and I’m sorry i broke your doll ⸺ I’ll sell all my toys and get you a new one!”

Luke and Quinn’s eyes widened at their brother's outburst, and Luke started to feel guilty as he watched his older brother break down. Ellen moved to step towards Jack so she could comfort her son, her heart hurting at the sight of him crying so hard. But before Ellen could reach out to pull Jack into her arms, someone beat her to it.

The rest of the family watched as Stella tried her best to wrap her arms around Jack's waist, resting her chin on Jack's chest and looking up at him with her brown doe eyes. Jack was quick to hug her back tightly as she spoke in her soft voice “It’s okay jacky i know you didn't mean to, please don't cry.”

Quinn nudged Luke's shoulder causing the youngest brother to give him an annoyed look. Quinn mouthed at Luke to apologize to Jack, Luke huffed before he got off the couch and moved over to his brother and sister, Quinn rolling his eyes at Luke's dramatics. Luke lets out a loud groan and opens his mouth to complain when Jack pulls him into joining their hug but closes his mouth at the look Stella gave him before she turned her head to Quinn, her eyes begging him to join their group hug.

Quinn shakes his head no, but he lets out a defeated sigh and stands up once Stella pulls out her signature move of her puppy dog eyes and quivering lip. Stella smiles triumphantly and pulls her eldest brother into the hug, smiling happily at the feeling of her and Jack being smushed into the middle of the hug.

“So, you and Luke don't hate me?” Jack asks but it comes out muffled since his face was being smushed into Quinn's chest. Stella giggles and luke shakes his head, luke mumbles “I don't hate you jack, but you said to beat up anyone who makes stell cry” Stella moves her head from luke’s chest and gives jack a toothy smile “I don't hate you jacky, but you have to get me a new dress too!”

Ellen smiles and leans against her husband's side, the parents watching as their kids continue to hug and listen as Stella excitedly talks about the new pink dress she wanted. Ellen kisses Jim’s cheek and whispers “C’mon let's go finish up dinner” the parents leave the living room, but none of the kids notice, they were too caught up in their new conversation.

Jim and Ellen finished making the family their dinner as they listened to their children talk and laugh from the living room, grateful to be raising such good children.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THEM SM, please tell my what you like the most? )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

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theblueflower05 · 10 months

Note

OH UR IN FOR IT NOW

thoughts: jake sully cockwarming human reader and she keeps squirming around to cum but he’s so much bigger that he can just hold her still while she whines and pouts

(also i know he’s so cocky and condescending with his dirty talk)

Oh oh oh. Fuck yes.

Listen. There is something so sexy about Avatar/Na’vi x Human smut. I don’t care. It’s going to get me going every time, I eat this shit UP.

@hinataashoyos kills this dynamic and if you want to read some absolutely delish Jake content- please give her blog a follow.

And I loveeeeee the idea of Jake and his little human fuck buddy.

Because like. You’re everything he’s attracted to- just his type. You’re petite with killer curves, a rack and ass to die for. The sweet florally perfume you wear makes him dizzy with want and the gloss you have perma swiped across your full lips sparkles in the fluorescent lights of the labs that you can usually be found in.

He eats girls like you up back on Earth. Even in his chair, he knew he was a panty dropper.

Smut under the cut

But you’re different. You’re sharp as a tack and come from a good family back on terra firme. Fancy college degrees under your belt, all paid for by mommy and daddy’s money. A social butterfly. Hell, he bets you’d been a sorority girl. Kappa Kappa Gamma, or some nonsense of that nature.

You’d never go for a disabled ex-military grunt like him- or so he’s convinced himself.

You work in close quarters with the rest of the Science lame brains, are close with Grace and Max.

Xeno-Cultural Anthropologist, he learns your title early one.

You’re here to help crack the code around the Navi- deeply fascinated by their rich culture. Diverse clans, and multilayered language. Besides Grace, you’re about the only RDA human let within 100 miles of Home Tree.

Your accolades and experience, at your young age, are stacked. All of these things should make you a stuck up priss-

And yet you’re not. Not at all.

The more he gets the know you, the worse his interest in you gets.

You’re funny, in a goofy way that doesn’t match your sharp vernacular. Your frequent jokes are vulgar and down right dumb.

And helpful, you never make him feel stupid the way the others do. You’re more then happy to sit down with him after a long day of him being linked out in the Jungle- you’re just about the only reason why he’s finally starting to grasp the language.

And so so sweet. You don’t make him feel useless or infantiled in his chair; you treat him like the capable grown man he is- but make him meals like you do all for all your friends. Help him with his laundry. Bring him electrolyte drinks when he’s half asleep doing his video logs.

A couple months in, and Jakes interest has spawned into a full fledged crush.

When Grace swoops him away fro Quaritch and his influence- you go with. All the way up into the Hallelujah Mountains.

The extra close quarters and isolation just makes it worse.

The pajamas you wear to bed aren’t skimpy or sexy in nature- but damn do you look good in the small shorts and obscure band tee that falls to your knees.

He nearly loses his shit when you bend over one morning, your wide ass on display. The tiny sleep shorts do nothing to cover the plush cheeks and he’s never wanted to dig his teeth into something more.

You act like you didn’t see him discreetly hide his blushing face in his cup of coffee.

The same way that he acts like he doesn’t see you ogling him in Avatar form. You all but drool over the smooth blue skin and endless muscles.

He wonders if that’s the only way you’ll have him, in a body that’s not his.

It had all come to a head pretty soon after that.

At the core of it; the two of you are travelers, stuck on a foreign planet. All it takes is a particularly lonely night; one where some how the two of you had gotten a moment alone, for all of the emotion to bubble up.

You’d ended up in Jakes lap, in his chair. Grinding down onto him, your tongue down his throat as he wrapped his strong tattooed arms around you.

Safe to say you want Jake Sully however you can get him.

It’s a free for all after that and Grace straight up has to tell you guys to cool it down after stumbling upon you and Jake, him in his Avatar form, in the trees just behind the bunkers. His head had been buried between your naked thighs- your face blushing behind your Exo Mask. Grace had not been impressed.

“Between you two and Norm and Trudy, it’s like I’m living in a fucking frat house. Cut it out, before I citation all of you for interpersonal relationships. I swear, we’re supposed to be grown ups here, guys- ever heard of workplace discretion!”

Graces threats are empty, but Jake knows you respect her enough to take em to heart.

So it turns into a game of sorts.

The two of you try to get each other off as often as possible. As fast as possible. As hidden as possible.

All the sneaking around makes him feel like a teenager, alive and exhilarated when he’s in both of his bodies.

But he hates the quickies. He wants the time to worship your body thoroughly.

He jumps at the chance- when Norm rides along with Trudy to take Grace back to Hell’s Gate. She’s a higher up, after all. She has mountain’s of paperwork and reports she needs to do. That’s fine.

That means he gets to be alone with you.

He savors the night. The trailers are a tight fit for his Avatar body, but he pushes the bunk beds to an opposite wall and the two of you make a nest of sorts on the cold metal floor. All the pillows and blankets you can find to cushion yourselves.

You lie next to each other, facing one and other- as you explore each other with slow groping touches in the low light. Only the computer screens left on to illuminate the space.

It’s like neither of you can get enough.

His large calloused hands run along your curves- all that soft supple skin. Your plush breasts and doughy thighs and ass. You feel so good- you truly might be the only soft thing on the rugged planet of Pandora.

Your petite hands are eager too. You trace his arms, his broad shoulders, his tapered waist. Your wide eyes follow the path of your fingers.

“Holy shit, Jake. You’re built like a brick shit house- where did all this muscle come from?”

He chuckles at the awe in your tone. “Trainings been intense- Neytiris been riding my ass lately. I’m up before the sun rises in those trees”

“Remind me to thank her next time I see her” you mutter distractedly as you squeeze at his defined bicep.

It’s insanely good, but then again it always is.

Jake tastes your spit, and you hard little nipples and your dripping cunt. Feasting himself on your skin slowly.

The more orgasms he can wring out of you- the easier it will be for you to take his cock. He needs your body as loose as he can get it.

After what feels like hours getting fucked with his huge fingers, and rough textured tongue, you’re begging for him.

You can take it. You want to be full of him, you whine the words with big teary eyes that you know he can’t refuse.

He fucks into you slow- watching as you take him. Your pussy always looks like she’s going to break. Stretched to it’s limits, lips puffy and enflamed as his cock sinks in. The contrast of his indigo skin and your human flush is fucking hypnotic.

This isn’t the first time he’s fucked you in this body and it won’t be the last.

Every round seems to be better then the last- louder. Wetter. More passionate. You’re full of so much cum, there’s no way that your tiny womb could hold it even if it tried.

Na’vi libidos are something else.

He has stamina that he didn’t even know existed. After round three you’re out, all but asleep in his arms. Limp and ragdoll like in his oversized arms.

“You can keep going” your voice is paper thin and far away. Jakes not sure how you’re even coherent at this point.

He takes you into his lap, gently, but keeping you stuffed full to the brim with his cock.

You whimper and bury your messy face in his huge sweaty chest.

“I just need one more” Jake reassures you, petting your hair, stroking down your back. His hands are large and soothing, it’s so easy for him to touch all of you at once. “You don’t even have to move all that much, baby. Just let me come one more time, yeah?”

You nod, and really it’s just your head lulling in his clavicle. You’d lost the ability to control your muscles hours ago. “Yeah, mhmm”

Jake doesn’t even need to bounce you. Just having your pussy wrapped around him, tighter then anything he’s ever felt, is enough.

You sit on his lap, his cum flowing out of you. Down your thighs. Onto his own groin. And warm his cock.

It’s erotic and intimate and as he holds you close he thinks about Neytiris words. Tsaheylu- the sacred bond. He’s felt it with direhorse- and his ikran. A part of him wishes that he could feel it with you.

When he empties the last of his milky, iridescent cum inside of you and you pull back from his chest enough to give him a small smile, he thinks that no.

This is enough.

I LOVE YOU JAKE MOTHER FUCKING SULLY UGHHHHHHHHH. I swear he fucking remixed the game in the first Avatar. I will never ever ever get over him.

#Jake Sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #Jake Sully x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

awesumsaus · 4 months

Text

cave

wc: 6.5k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

part two of pretty when I cry

summary: Ever the man of his word, your boyfriend Joel finally fulfills your need to have him claim that secret little part of you.

a/n: welcome back besties. thank you so much to everyone that checked out part one, I seriously can’t believe the response it’s gotten. again please heed the warnings and skip of you don’t think this is for you. otherwise hope y’all enjoy my absolutely depraved writing

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, very needy/emotional reader, joel can pick reader up (I’m convinced this man could lift anyone), smut smut smut literal porn (ok a TINY bit of plot), established relationship, age gap (not really mentioned in this one), so much daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, tiny bit of degradation kink, whole lot of praise kink, joel tummy™️, spanking, unprotected pinv, oral (m receiving), plug use, ass eating (brief), anal sex, subspace, joel is still a consent king, fluffy aftercare (these bitches are in love)

It wasn’t until two weeks later that either of you brought it up. You’d been thinking about it, that morning, admittedly far too often. The way his fingers and tongue explored the very hidden spots of your body, pushed the limit of what you can and can’t handle. But you couldn’t ask him, couldn’t be the first one to bring it up. It was the game the two of you played, you being far too shy to voice this filthy little need, and Joel far too teasing to give it up without you asking.

But it was becoming unbearable, thoughts of him arising at the most inopportune times, whether that be when you were laying in bed at home, alone while Joel was working a double shift, or at work when there were millions of other tasks you should be focusing on, but all you could think about was your boyfriend finally claiming that secret little part of you.

And so tonight you’d decided to put an end to your suffering, devising your own little plan to set things in motion, one that you were comfortable with, and that you knew Joel wouldn’t object to.

The two of you were getting ready, having made plans to meet Joel’s brother for dinner at 7. It was already 6:30 by the time you finished your hair, still dressed in nothing but one of Joel’s t-shirts and a lacy thong. Usually, your lateness was just a result of you losing track of time, trying to tame flyaways, or pausing to belt out one of the songs that came up on your playlist. Little did Joel know that this time around you were stalling, working up the courage to present him with your latest purchase.

You glance over to the open vanity drawer, and a tinge of excitement spreads up your spine when you see it. A small thing, silver all except for the red heart-shaped jewel at the end of it. You reach for it, the metal cold against your fingertips, a contrast to the heat that spreads up your neck at the thought of what comes next.

Running your hands through your hair one last time, you exit the bathroom to see Joel, fully dressed and rummaging through one of his dresser drawers. The way the fabric of his dark green sweater stretches around his broad shoulders makes your stomach flip.

You pad over to him, hands held behind your back, clearing your throat and he turns. He immediately registers the hesitance in your movements. “I um- I got you something.” You look up at him through your lashes, putting on your most innocent guise.

“S’ that right?” He quirks an eyebrow, already holding back a smirk. His focus turns to his wrist, snapping in place the silver band of the watch you’d gifted him this past Christmas. It was a simple thing, nothing too fancy. You would’ve gotten him something nicer, something more high-end, but the year-end bonus you’d been hoping for never came. Still, Joel insisted that it was the greatest gift he’d ever been given, bullshit, but it still put a smile on your face whenever he wore it.

“You promise you won’t laugh?” His smirk widens.

“Why would I laugh?”

“Just promise!” You frown at him before giving his chest a little shove, but he’s quick to respond, grabbing your wrist and pulling, closing the space between you.

“Promise.” You say it softer this time, looking up at him, ignoring the way your thighs instinctively clench from how far you have to bend your neck just to meet his gaze.

“I promise.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, his expression softening. “I won’t laugh.”

And he doesn’t. In fact, his smirk falls completely when you reveal what’s in your free hand, extending your palm to him. He takes it from you, turning it over in his fingers, something darkens in his eyes.

“Dirty little girl,” he says under his breath, his attention still focused on the small metal plug in his hand. He turns away from you for only a moment to grab his phone from the dresser.

“What are you doing?”

“Textin’ Tommy that we’re gonna be late,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“No wait, I’ll be quick. I’m almost ready-“

“Uh-uh, baby.” He takes exacting steps towards you, forcing you to retreat backward, nearly falling over when your calves meet the edge of his bed. “Not goin’ anywhere yet.” He swiftly turns you, manhandling you against his chest, and dips his mouth to your ear. “Bend over.”

A shiver runs down your spine, yet you can’t ignore the heat continuing to spread across your face. “R-right now? Joel, are you serious?”

“You bet I am.” His hand comes down with a firm slap to your ass and you gasp, the arm he’s looped around your midsection keeping you from falling forward onto the bed. Wet drips from your core when he does the same to the other side. “Thought you were gonna get away with this, baby? F’ you’re gonna act like a fucking whore, I’m gonna treat you like one. Bend over.”

You shudder slightly at his words, but do as he says, slowly lowering your upper half, whining when he pushes you the last few inches, your brain already gone fuzzy from the roughness of his movements. A part of you expected this, knew that Joel wouldn’t accept your gift and just move on with the rest of the night. So it’s no surprise that when he pulls your thong to the side, your pussy is already glistening with slick.

“Jesus, baby,” he lets out a breath behind you, running his knuckles along your seam making you shiver. “Always so fucking wet, so ready f’ me.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you sigh against the mattress, rocking your lower half back, seeking friction.

Joel lets out a strangled grunt from behind you, one hand squeezing your ass cheek. It’s taking everything in him not to ruin you right then and there, but he restrains himself, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t make it out the front door if he gave in.

You suck in a breath when the cold metal presses against your cunt, slipping through your folds with ease, gathering slick. “Gonna be able to behave yourself at dinner, baby? Don’t want Tommy gettin’ suspicious.”

You whimper slightly as the tip presses into the cleft of your ass, squirming at the action and the almost belittling tone of his voice. “Don’t want him to know how much of a goddamn slut you are for me, huh?” He delivers another stinging slap just as the plug breaches your tight hole. “Answer me.”

“I-I’ll behave!” The words tumble from your mouth. “I’ll be good, daddy- p-promise.”

“I know, baby. Always such a good girl f’ me.” His words are so dizzying you don’t even realize that he’s fitted the plug completely inside of you until his knuckles graze your ass. It’s not what you had expected, not painful or uncomfortable in any way. It feels good, being this full, the slight stretch making your lower half shake with anticipation.

“That feel okay, pretty girl?” His voice softens the same way it always does when he’s checking in with you.

“Mhm,” you nod against the mattress, a content smile spread across your face.

“Good. Now go get dressed ‘fore Tommy starts askin’ questions.”

He plants one last slap on your bottom, softer than the others, but the way it reverberates across your skin and through the toy now deep inside you makes you gasp, your senses now on high alert. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

You make it through the better part of dinner without any slip-ups, just a regular evening with your boyfriend and his brother who you’ve come to befriend over your time knowing him.

You’re barely paying attention, focused on the story Tommy is telling when Joel curves a finger through the back loop of your jeans and pulls. You choke on your water at the sudden feeling, the seam of your jeans digging into you, pressing tightly against the toy you’d nearly forgotten about at this point. Something white-hot shoots up your spine and settles in your lower belly. Tommy pauses and shoots you a worried look as you cough unexpectedly, obviously unaware of Joel’s actions. You notice Joel holding back a smirk from the corner of your eye.

“Woah- hey, ya alright darlin’?” Tommy asks, looking to Joel who’s started patting your back softly, a forced expression of concern written across his features. It takes everything in you not to slap the look right off his face then and there.

“I’m fine, yeah- sorry.” You try to ignore the obvious blush spreading across your cheeks, still attempting to catch your breath while also fighting against the growing heat pulsing through your core.

“You sure, honey? You’re all flushed,” Joel says.

“Said I’m fine,” you almost snap at Joel, immediately regretting your tone when he shoots you a warning look, a brow raised as if daring you to continue.

“Sorry, Tommy.” You turn to the younger Miller, disregarding the way Joel’s palm has started kneading the flesh of your lower back, only making your head spin more. “Please go on. I’m alright.” He looks between the two of you a bit hesitantly for only a moment before continuing his story.

And suddenly it’s all you can think about, the feeling of the plug pressing into your most sensitive spots, the fullness of it all, only made worse by Joel’s continuous teasing, his seemingly harmless touching.

When you finally make it to Joel’s truck after bidding Tommy goodnight, you’re an absolute mess. Practically soaked through your panties, squirming against the leather of your seat. And Joel knows, revels in it, confirmed by the shit-eating grin he exhibits the entire ride home, while his hand softly grips the plushness of your thigh, only deepening your need.

You’re on him as soon as you pass the threshold of his front door, clawing at his chest, a rabid little thing. He appeases you almost instinctively, pushing you against the opposite wall and pinning your wrists by your head as he roughly presses his mouth to yours. You writhe against his grip, whimpering when he takes his free hand to angle your jaw upward, giving his tongue access to plunge deep into your mouth. You hook a leg around his waist, grinding against his thigh, and finally, a tiny ounce of your ache dissipates.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel removes himself from you, turning away and walking into the living room. He plops down on the couch, kicking his shoes off and leaning back against the cushions. The look on his face is maddening, cocky son of a bitch.

“C’mere,” he says from his seat on the couch, his legs spread wide. If you weren’t so painfully desperate you’d refuse him for being so smug, but luckily for Joel, you need him about as much as you need air to breathe in this moment.

You can’t help but eye the growing tightness in his jeans as you approach him, the sight making you a little dizzy in your movements. He stops you when you attempt to straddle him, placing a hand firmly on your lower belly, and looking up at you with a devilish smile. He toys with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. Off. It’s all the command you need before crossing your arms over your body and lifting the fabric from your torso.

Your shirt’s not even pulled over your head before his deft fingers are unbuttoning your pants and tugging them along with your panties down to your ankles. He leans forward, gripping your calf, and helps you step out of them, popping your shoes off in the process, and quickly tosses your clothes aside. His hand travels up your leg, sending goosebumps across your bare skin. A small yelp escapes your lips when he pulls you onto his lap by the back of your thigh, but you quickly melt into him as your knees sink into the couch on either side of him.

He runs his hands up and down your sides and you shiver. “So sensitive, baby,” he tsks. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks from your desperation. It was pathetic really, how much you need him in this moment, how much your body craved even his lightest touch. It was pathetic really, how much of your need now dripped onto his still-clothed crotch, soaking through the material.

His hands move to cup your tits, thumbing your already peaked nipples through the thin fabric before expertly unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You’re suddenly all too aware of how clothed Joel is, a stark contrast to your naked form, yet the image sends another wave of slick weeping from your core. You allow your head to fall forward onto his shoulder, mouthing at his sweater to muffle your cries, when he tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers.

“Sh, I know. I’ve got you, little one.” He continues his slow torment, smoothing his hands along your bare skin, his smirk growing with each of your whines and whimpers. You’re like putty in his hands, completely at his mercy, a plaything for him to do with what he pleases. Your breath hitches when his hands travel to your ass, two of his fingers pressing lightly against the now exposed plug, sending a jolt through your whole body.

He brings his mouth to your ear, nips at it, before whispering “You want me to fuck you here, baby?“ He says it like a secret, only for the two of you to ever hear. That’s when everything starts to ache, the feeling in your lower belly so warm and unfurling, that you fear you may start sobbing if he doesn’t end his teasing soon.

“Please, daddy.” You sniffle into the spot connecting his neck and shoulder. “Want it so bad, please.”

“Such good manners, baby.” One of his hands slides up your back to the nape of your neck where he grips you, pulling you back to meet his gaze. “M’ gonna give you what you want, sweet girl.” Your heart rate quickens, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“But not tonight.”

And just like that your heart sinks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at his sudden declination. You’d feel foolish for it, overly emotional if it wasn’t Joel’s lap you were sitting on. He knows how you get, how reactive you can be, especially when you have your heart set on something. You shake your head and lean away from him, your eyes casting down to your lap, shame beginning to bubble in your chest. You have the sudden urge to cover yourself, wrapping your arms around your chest, a little voice in the back of your head telling you that it’s your fault, that you’d done something wrong to make him deny you, deny himself, of this.

“Hey,” he says it so so softly. His hands run up and down your biceps, as if he’s attempting to pull your focus from the insecurities he knows are settling in your brain “I’m not doing this to punish you, understand?” You sniffle again, a tear threatens to fall from your lower lashes.

“Look at me,” he says sternly. You reluctantly meet his gaze. “Tell me you understand.”

You want to shake your head no, want to beg him to change his mind, whine and pout until he gives you what you want, but as much as you know Joel’s a man of his word, you also know he’s nearly impossible to sway once his mind is made up.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

He gives you a moment to collect yourself, thumbing your tears away and pulling you back against his chest. You unwrap your arms from yourself, instead latching them around Joel’s neck. “I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. Just gotta have some patience. Want this to be good for you.” He rubs your back soothingly, kissing your temple. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You can’t help the huff that escapes your lips at his words, because you like the hurt. Like being subject to his each and every desire, surrendered entirely to his control. Joel knows this, knew this from the first time you’d slipped and called him daddy while he fucked you into his kitchen counter, knew this when the next morning he caught you in his bathroom mirror, smiling at the finger-shaped bruises burgeoning across the flesh of your hips.

Joel knows you like the hurt, and part of him can’t deny how utterly irresistible he finds you when you beg him to push just a little further, to be a little rougher. But he also knows where to draw the line, never inflicting enough pain to outweigh the pleasure he brings you. He’s had experience with establishing this limit, but never in past relationships had he found anyone to be as persistent as you, as stubborn, as needy. And though it isn’t always obvious, he needs you just the same. It’s what frustrates him the most, not your neediness, but the way in which it clouds his judgement, makes him forget how fragile you can be. So he wouldn’t, not tonight, not until he’s certain you won’t break.

“Poor baby,” he coos when you grind down on his bulge, the rough fabric against your soft folds making you gasp. “I know you’re not used to being told no, huh?”

You let out a squeaking whine when you feel the rough skin of his hand cup the entirety of your sex. You instinctively buck into his touch.

“You want daddy to take care ‘a this for you?”

“Mhm, please,” nodding your head against his chest. You almost cry when the pad of his finger finds your clit, swiping two delicate circles before pulling away.

“Sh sh, I’ve got you, honey.” He lifts you slightly off his lap, a strangled sound erupting from your throat at the loss of contact, but he makes quick work with his zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his fully hardened cock, red and pulsing in his grip.

“Come sit on daddy’s cock, baby.” His eyes glass over as he pumps his length once, twice before urging you forward. He taps the wide tip against your clit a few times and you swear you could come just from that before he’s lining up with your entrance, coating himself with your slick.

He lets you go at your own pace, loosening his grip on your waist as you begin to sink down on him, inch by inch. He’d usually stretch you first, make you come around his fingers once or twice before letting you take him in his entirety. But not tonight, not with the steady flow of slick that’s been gushing from your heat all night.

You shudder once he’s fully sheathed inside you, your clit twitching against his pelvis. He lets you adjust, squirm a bit in his lap, before he’s bucking up into you, a bit of his own impatience beginning to show.

As much as you’ve needed Joel all night, you know his teasing has had its own effect on him. He’s been itching to be inside you since the moment you presented him with your little gift, it was all he could think about the entire evening, so it comes as no surprise that his movements quickly grow hurried. He fucks up into you at a frantic pace, meeting your little bounces with increasing force.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The combination of his cock pumping deep inside you and the toy sitting snug inside your asshole. It’s overwhelming, nerve endings you didn’t even know existed now buzzing within you. It’s only mere minutes before you’re clenching around him, right on the edge of release.

“Little cunt’s huggin’ me so tight, baby,” Joel pants, his movements stuttering.

“Daddy-“ you gasp, “m’ ngh m’ gonna cum.”

“Fuck- that’s it baby,” he babbles, his fingers move to messily rub your clit. “That’s it pretty girl. Want you to cum on my cock then I’ll fill you up, yeah? So fucking full, baby. C’mon, cum for daddy.”

Your entire body convulses against him as you reach your peak, strings of curses and incoherent sounds slipping between your lips. Everything turns white behind your eyes, every inch of your skin on fire. He only fucks you harder, rubs his fingers against your clit faster. You don’t even realize you’re on the cusp of a second orgasm until he’s pressing his free hand against the heart-shaped jewel still sticking out of your ass, hitting something deep inside of you. Then you’re crashing down once more, sobbing as your grip tightens around his neck, completely enraptured in the feeling as he fucks up into you.

“Good fuckin’ girl-“ a groan sounds from deep within his chest, a few more bucks of his hips before he cums, spilling into you with a slew of grunts and unintelligible praises. He only lets up once you’ve milked him dry, a combination of both your releases coating his length and further soaking his jeans.

Joel comes back to earth first after he’s caught his breath and carefully pulled out of you. He stands and rids himself of his damp clothes, now just as bare you are, before wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you from the couch.

Later, after you’re both showered and Joel makes you a cup of your favorite tea, the two of you lay in bed, your head resting against his chest, tracing a finger along the broad expanse of him. You’ve committed just about every mark and freckle to memory by now from this exact spot. His hand lazily runs up and down your spine, as you mull over where things will go from here.

A week. You talked him into a week. A week of doing exactly as he says, with no attempting to convince him otherwise. You’ll wear the plug when he tells you to, for as long as he tells you to. A week and then he’ll divulge that secret little part of you that he’s yet to claim.

Joel lasts till Thursday.

He’s done for the moment he arrives home from work to you sprawled across his bed, book in hand, with nothing on but a tight-fitting t-shirt and a barely-there thong. You knew what you were doing, knew it was exactly what Joel told you not to do, tempting him to go back on his word and cave. You notice his eyes darken the moment he enters the bedroom, his gaze falling to the red heart poking through the fabric of your panties. The same one he stuffed inside you before sending you off to work this morning, the one you were sorely reminded of every time you shifted too quickly in your desk chair.

“Hey baby,” you smile sweetly at him. You swear you hear him grumble as he makes his way to the closet, pulling his sweaty work shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. You mark your page and set your book aside before stretching out across the comforter like a cat in the sun. The muscles in Joel’s shoulders tense when a soft sigh slips from your lips.

You nearly skip over to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection before he has the chance to pull on a clean shirt. He lets out a heavy breath at the feeling of your small fingers splaying across his bare stomach.

“How was your day?” you ask, pressing against him more firmly, your head resting below his shoulder blades.

“Fine,” he responds, his tone suspecting. You feel his breath catch as you press small kisses to his spine.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today,” your voice goes softer, a hidden plea behind your words.

“S’ that right?” His severity wanes, an opening.

“Mhm,” you hum against him, dragging your blunt nails across his skin. “Need you so bad, Daddy.”

“‘M right here, baby.” He pretends to not know what you’re talking about, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops, acting like your fingers aren’t dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans. You know he can see right through you, has always seen right through you, his refusal to admit it in this moment only makes your need deepen.

“Please, Joel,” you whine softly, errant fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his boxers. “I almost started touching myself in the bathroom today.” Your cheeks flush red at the confession, a low groan escapes Joel’s throat. “Every time I felt it, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wish it was your co-“

You let out a small gasp when he snatches your wrist. He pauses, so still you begin to worry you’ve upset him, that you’ve pushed him too far. But then something shifts.

Fuck it. His mouth is on you in seconds, his tongue immediately gaining access as you melt into him. It’s dizzying, one of his hands grabbing you just below your jaw, the other squeezing your ass cheek roughly. Your knees buckle just as he’s turning you around and practically throwing you onto the bed. You don’t even have time to lift your head off the mattress before he’s yanking your panties over your ass and easing the plug out of your hole. He’s quick with it, your body shivering as the cool metal slides through you, leaving an empty feeling in its wake, but it doesn’t last for long as Joel licks a broad strip through your seam to your asshole. He presses his tongue there, gauging your reaction before he’s licking into you, spreading you with his hands. At first, you squirm away, the feeling of him eating at you like this entirely foreign. But then you're rocking back into him, completely lost in the rush of his mouth against your asshole. Sounds you never knew yourself capable of filling the room as his tongue repeatedly dives into the ring of muscle.

A strangled moan leaves your lips when he pauses, you crane your neck just in time to see a string of saliva drip from his mouth directly between your ass cheeks. He rubs it into you, pushing his thumb through the ring of muscle making you whimper.

“What d’you want?” His voice is low. His thumb starts pumping in and out of you, fast and unrelenting.

“Daddy,” you whine, burying your burning-hot cheeks into his pillow.

“Gonna need better than that,” he tsks, rutting his bulge into your heat. “Or else I’ll have t’ take care a’ this myself. Tie you up and make you watch.”

“Ngh, Daddy,” you moan, face burning impossibly warmer. His thumb slows, giving you a moment of reprieve to gather your thoughts.

“Want you t’ fuck my ass- wanna feel you.”

“Jesus-“ With his hand coming down to grip your neck, he suddenly pins you to the mattress, muttering a short stay before you feel his weight lift from the bed. You hear the sound of his zipper undoing and catch him fisting himself in the corner of your eye. Your thighs tremble with anticipation as he moves to the side of the bed, planting a knee by your shoulder. Then he’s towering over you, his weeping cock right at your eye line, your cheek still pushed against the mattress, ass in the air. He looks so powerful like this, so broad and so commanding, so when he tells you to open your mouth, you don’t even have to think twice.

“Gonna get daddy’s dick nice n’ wet, baby.” Saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to drip onto the bed when you stick your tongue out. “Then ‘m gonna wedge my cock in this tight little hole. How’s that sound?” You jolt forward when the pad of his index finger pushes into you.

“Please Daddy,” you whine. He removes his hand, immediately wrapping it around the back of your skull, his fingers tangled in your hair. His other hand grips the base of his length, tapping the red-flushed tip on your tongue a few times before pushing all the way into your mouth in one swift motion, your nose scratching against the coarse hairs at his pelvis. It had taken you months to work up to it, taking him in his entirety. The first time you blew him you’d barely been able to make it halfway down his cock before you were gagging, but not now. Now you take everything he gives you, like he’s molded your throat to the shape of him.

“This mouth-“ he’s cut off by his own moans, erupting from deep within his chest. “Fuckin’ heaven, baby.”

Tears quickly prick in the corners of your eyes as he continues his assault on your throat. A breathy moan slips from his mouth when you gag around his length after an especially forceful thrust of his hips.

His pace slows as he thumbs away your tears. “Daddy’s been so mean, huh little one? Makin’ you wait all this time.”

You whine around his dick, the vibrations making Joel’s breath catch in the back of his throat.

“You like when I’m mean though, don’t you? Like when daddy treats you like the little slut you are?” He delivers a harsh smack to your ass just as he pulls away from your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. He moves to open the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a bottle of lube before rounding the corner of the bed, towering over you from behind.

“Don’t need it,” you whine, head still foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Quiet little girl.” He softly swats your ass before you hear the disappointing sound of the bottle opening, followed by the cool sensation of the liquid hitting your exposed hole. He rubs it into you, letting out a satisfied hum when he presses his thumb into your asshole with ease. And then his cock is lining up with you, it’s so fucking big, so much bigger than the plug, a small part of you starts to worry it may not fit, may be too painful.

Like always, Joel senses your apprehension, running his large palm soothingly down your spine as he leans over you. You feel his warm breath hit your ear.

“You tell me if it’s too much, yeah baby?” He says it only slightly above a whisper. “M’ only gonna enjoy this if you do too.”

You nod against the sheets, immediately recognizing that the action won’t be enough for Joel. “Yes, Daddy.” You crane your neck to look at him, eyes hooded and dazed. Something flashes in his expression, beyond simple desire, a need suddenly so evident in his eyes that you’d sit up and kiss him until your lips were raw if he wasn’t pushing the tip of his thick cock inside you.

It’s so much. Even just the first inch is blinding, your vision going blurred and your senses entirely rapt with the feeling. The hurt is overwhelming, the stretch all-consuming, but it’s so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

He pushes in another inch and the pain dissipates, in its place a euphoric haze, where all you can feel is him, his weight driving you into the mattress, his hips rocking against your ass. You see stars once he’s fitted inside you, never having felt this full.

The noises Joel is making are almost pained, his cock throbbing from the tightness of your hole, all the restraint left in him keeping him from setting a brutal pace. No, instead he moves slow, focused intently on not blowing his load every time you squeeze around him, listening to your little moans and whimpers for any signs of unease.

“It’s a lot baby, I know,” he pants. “But you’re doin’ so good.” His praises have you reeling, furthering your dazed state. “Look so goddamn perfect takin’ all a’ me like this.”

You don’t even know what to say, all you know is that you need more, entirely lost in the feeling. You’re always insatiable, greedy, whenever it comes to Joel, and he knows, revels in the fact that he’s the one that gets to have you like this, makes you feel like this.

You’re not even sure what you’re saying at this point, what sounds are falling from your mouth, just that Joel takes it as a sign to pick up his pace. It brings you back to earth a bit, your lower belly going taught at the force of his body against your own.

You’re crying out against the mattress, small fingers twisting in the sheets, tears forming a wet spot beneath your chin.

“Fuck, baby c’mere.” He suddenly pulls out of you with a heady groan and wastes no time flipping you over. He’s pushing back inside you in seconds, resuming his vigorous pace.

“Wanna see you when I come in this perfect fuckin’ ass.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his words, your entire body going limp against the mattress as he uses you. When his thumb finds your clit you’re done for. The messy circles he makes send you hurtling right to the edge. With a near-scream, every part of your body goes taut for a moment before your release is shattering through every inch of your body, bursting from your core like shock waves.

“Fuck, fuck-“ he’s repeating over and over as his own climax hits him, but you can’t even hear him, can only feel him, his body thrusting into you, pushing you impossibly further into the mattress, his hands gripping the hinge of your hips, his warm release shooting deep inside you. It’s the only thing keeping you here, prevailing against the potent haze.

With one final grunt, he stills, his breathing ragged and sweat dripping from his forehead. You can barely move, still dazed as he pulls out of you slowly, the emptiness in its wake further graying your awareness of reality.

You lift a shaking hand, attempting to grab at whatever part of him you can reach. “Daddy-“

He leans forward, carefully caging you in his arms. “I’m here baby, you’re okay.”

“‘M okay,” you mumble sweetly. He brings one of his hands to your hair, gently running his fingers along your scalp in a way that makes your thoughts even more fuzzy. But the heaviness of his chest against your own keeps you there, keeps you present.

“You did so good f’ me, I’m so proud a’ you.” A tired smile spreads across your face at his words. He knows the effect they have on you, which is probably why he says it. But the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.

“My pretty baby,” he kisses you softly, and you further melt into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent, musky and woody with something distinctly Joel. The two of you stay like this for a moment, your arms and legs wrapped around his large form, what little remains of your strength focused on keeping him in place, chest to chest, a comforting pressure.

“How do you feel, baby? You hurtin’ anywhere?” He says it against your neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there.

“Mm”, you hum, denying, still detached from your own body, not fully registering the slight tinges of hurt spreading throughout your lower half, completely consumed with the man in front of you, the smell of his sweat still glistening across his chest, the weight of his softened cock still pulsing and twitching against your thigh. He’s everywhere, everything in this moment.

He pulls away just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. “How ‘bout a bath yeah?” You hum in agreement, let him unwrap himself from your hold, and stand at the edge of the bed before he’s snaking an arm under your knees and back and lifting you. You instinctively curl your face into his neck, still wet with sweat but you don’t mind, nearly your whole body already covered in him.

He sets you down on the toilet seat before moving to turn the water on, making sure it’s warm enough before plugging the drain. You sway a bit in place, thankful when Joel wraps an arm around your back to steady you. Usually by now the haze will have lifted a bit, no longer in this headspace, yet still your brain is a bit fuzzy, your thoughts and senses dulled.

You look up at Joel when you feel his thick fingers card through your hair, unsure of when he’d gone to grab one of your hair elastics. As he gathers the strands together, you lean into him, your head resting just below his belly button, on the plush flesh of his tummy, smattered with course hairs trailing down to the base of his cock. You nuzzle into the spot, breathing him in, fully content in this moment. You feel the muscle tighten when you start to press small kisses to it. He firmly grips your now fully formed ponytail when your mouth wanders south, interrupting your descent, and you whine.

“Settle.” You let out a short huff of breath and bring your gaze to his, resting your chin on his stomach as he loosens his grip on your hair. He shakes his head at you, holding back a smile as he finishes tying your hair back.

He helps you step into the tub first, guiding you to sit, before he slots himself behind you with a grunt. He pulls you against him, arms wrapped around your tummy and chin resting on your shoulder. You giggle softly when the hairs of his mustache tickle behind your ear.

He lets you sit against him for a moment before he insists on cleaning you up, lathering his soap between his hands and smoothing it along your soft skin. You start to doze off from the feeling, Joel keeping you upright against his chest. Only after the water begins to cool and your fingertips have turned pruney, Joel helps you step out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel before you start to shiver. He kisses you then, soft and slow like he could stay like this with you forever. And you would, if he wasn’t ushering you back into the bedroom, telling you to get in bed and that he’d be right back.

He makes you drink a glass of water before taking his place behind you on the bed, his back to the headboard and the small bowl of your skull cradled against his chest. You slowly drift off to the steady beat of his heart.

I have so many ideas for these two so lmk if we want to see more ;]

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller fanfiction #part two

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13uswntimagines · 4 months

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I'll Take Care of You (Alessia Russo x MMA!fighter R)

Request: Could we maybe see some slightly more stern dom alessia dealing with r (doesn’t have to be smut) in front of the team because reader starts acting bratty with them?

Part of the same universe as the come down.

Warning: Slight touching but not actual smut. Also D/S fic

Author's note: Hey Y'all, i really hope you enjoy this. I want to point out that D/S dynamics are based on trust and communication, so that's what I chose to focus on. Alessia is a soft dom, and chooses a punishment that she knows will be effective. If you want to chat or have any ideas or comments, feel free to hit me up.

Gearing up for a fight was the equivalent of stretching out a rubber band to its limit. It was 8 weeks of nonstop training, 4 weeks of conditioning your body to shed water so you could make weight, 2 weeks of cameras following you around for UFC embedded, and 1 week of media bombardment where you had to listen to grown men act like 5-year-olds talking about who was going to beat who.

It was utterly exhausting.

The only upside was that at the end of it, you got to step into the octagon and do what you did best.

You got to put the plan your coaches drilled over and over into your brain into place. You got to release all of the built-up anxiety and frustration from camp.

You got to fight.

It was like coming up for oxygen after being trapped underwater. Sometimes the cage felt like the only place you could really breathe on your own.

It had been your safe haven for almost as long as you could remember, which was kinda strange considering your health was put at immediate risk every time you stepped inside. It had been your escape from your family, and your only coping mechanism for as long as you could remember.

To go through training camp, and fight week and the weight cut, only to have your fight pulled at the last minute was fucking devastating.

It was like when Alessia brought you all the way to the precipice of an orgasm and then pulled away just before you could tumble over it, except far far far worse.

It made your blood boil. It made the monster in your chest roar that your opponent couldn’t do his end of the job to make the fight go on after all of the shit he was talking. And there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better.

Dana promised that the fight would be rescheduled. He even threw in that if you won, you would be next in line for a title shot.

But it didn’t help.

The fight was set to be at the O2 arena, meaning your girlfriend and all of her teammates had been set to see you, and now they couldn’t. You couldn’t get your 10 training weeks back and you would have to do the weight cut all over again.

It was a shit sandwich, and it made you feel completely out of control. It made you crave for someone else to put you right again. For Alessia to remind you that she had control always.

Maybe that’s why you chose your satin button-down shirt to go to dinner with your girlfriend and her teammates and paired it with tight black skinny jeans.

It wasn’t often that you liked to push Alessia’s control. That you toed the boundaries that she set, but tonight it felt like the prize comparable to stepping into the cage.

With the little black dress she had worn, you really couldn’t blame yourself either. You could never resist when she showed off her legs. You were obsessed and she knew it. It was probably why she had chosen the outfit, to begin with.

It was probably designed as a reward of sorts for after your fight, except you weren’t having a fight. So you supposed it was kind of like a consolation prize.

Except you felt wound too tightly to really enjoy it.

“So that’s it, they just call the whole thing off?” Ella asked leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger running a gentle circle on Alessia’s exposed knee. “I can’t even sign a paper that says I’m fine fighting him despite the failed drug test, and it’s too late to find a replacement even if we allow a catchweight,”

She let the movement continue, the hand wrapped around your shoulder gently squeezing the arm furthest away from her.

While she was relieved that the rules prevented you from fighting a man on steroids, she knew how gutted you were about the cancellation.

“Probably for the best mate,” Leah said, sipping her wine.

You shrugged, letting your finger trail a little higher on Alessia’s leg.

It was slightly too… forward for the steakhouse her teammates had chosen, but with the dimmed lights you figured no one could see your hand under the white tablecloth anyway. Not with how close you were sitting to your girlfriend.

“I already made weight, so it’s kind of a waste,” You muttered, dragging your nails up the inside of her thigh to just below the hem of her dress. “I’ll have to start camp all over again unless I take something short notice,”

“Can you do that?” Mary asked, from your other side.

You shrugged again. “I told Dana I was game if he needed someone to fill in, so we’ll have to see,”

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled tighter together “You didn’t tell me that, love,”

“Didn’t I?” You asked, feigning dumb, as your fingers finally made it past the hem of her dress. “Must have forgotten. I’m excited to see you all play on Tuesday though,”

You ran your nail across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her center. But before you could make it any further, her free hand caught your wrist, and repositioned you so your hand was resting very innocently near her knee again.

“Ireland is always fun to face,” Ella smiled at you. “Should be a bit chippy,”

“I’ll definitely be rocking my MacCabe jersey,” You matched her expression, your thumb again beginning to rub circles into Alessia’s skin.

Leah frowned, dropping her menu. “You will?”

“Absolutely,” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows and slyly trailing your thumb back up Alessia’s thigh. “Gotta support my favorite foul-mouthed Gooner,”

Leah’s eyes went wide, and Alessia squeezed your shoulder.

“And what about me?” Your girlfriend asked, a pout pulling at her lips.

You wiggled your eyebrows, a witty remark at the tip of your tongue, knowing it would piss her off, but the tension in your chest made you unable to stop yourself.

You wanted to push her. To force a reaction, even when you knew all you had to do was ask for what you wanted.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter asked, appearing behind Leah before you could let it fly.

You let your smirk widen, closing your menu with a thud and making eye contact with the waiter.

“Since she’s not on the menu,” You started, leaning closer to your girlfriend for just a second, edging your hand even further up her thigh until it was again past the hem of her dress. “I think I’ll have the tomahawk, medium rare with a Yorkie and the roasted carrots please,”

You winked at the waiter for good measure as the table giggled and Alessia’s cheeks turned bright red.

The waiter cleared his throat, turning his attention to your girlfriend. “And for you ma’am?”

Alessia opened her mouth, probably to order, but you cut her off instead.

“She’ll take the sirloin, medium with the Orzo and kale salad,” You said, reciting her normal order with perfect precision. “And she’ll be having me for dessert later,”

More giggles erupted from your friends, and you dragged your hand impossibly higher, extending your pinky so it brushed against her underwear.

She inhaled sharply next to you, sending you a warning side eye as the rest of the table continued to order, but she didn’t immediately remove your hand.

You ignored her warning, letting your pinky slide over the satiny fabric of her underwear.

It wasn’t what she normally wore, and you couldn’t help the wolfish grin that took over your features.

She had worn lingerie for you.

Maybe that should have stopped you. Made you consider that you wouldn’t get anything if you kept pushing, but again you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

“Will you be in the Ireland friends and family section then?” Leah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Cause I don’t think my family or Less’ will enjoy you wearing the opposing team’s jersey,”

You made a noise like you were considering it as you finally slid your hand up and cupped your girlfriend’s heat. “I don’t think I’d feel at home though. Surely your family can deal with it right Less?”

Alessia nodded once, very stiffly. “My family loves you no matter what you’re wearing,”

You smiled impishly at her, adding just a little more pressure to her core.

She shifted in her seat, leaning very close to your ear, as Ella started talking about some movie she and Joe had watched, taking the attention of the rest of Alessia’s teammates.

“They’d even love you if you had to wear your collar at the game,” She chuckled darkly in your ear, her voice soft enough to get lost in the noise of the restaurant as her free hand yet again caught your wrist and pulled your hand back to a much more innocent position. “Now behave, or I promise you’ll regret it,”

You pulled away, your devilish smirk only getting broader. “No,”

Her eyebrows furrowed her expression something between anger and concern and warning, like she was trying to figure out why you were pushing the boundaries when you never did before.

You wiggled yours in return, offering her nothing else before joining the conversation of her teammates.

You weren’t ready to talk yet.

You were too content digging yourself deeper and deeper.

*****

You continue to push Alessia all throughout dinner, taking every opportunity to make her blush or to creep your hand further up her thigh. At one point you had even wiggled a finger beneath her underwear before she could stop you.

And your behavior hadn’t stopped once you left the restaurant.

You definitely placed your hand far too low on her waist as you and your friends walked back to the hotel the UFC had rented for you, and winked cheekily at the fans as you entered the building, spending far too long signing things and flirting just to annoy your girlfriend.

You knew from the “come on darling,” and the way she wrapped her arm around you, her fingers closing gently around the back of your neck that you were in serious trouble as she led you into the hotel and to the elevator.

“Good luck mate,” Leah nodded towards you as she stepped into her hotel room after Mary and Ella. “Think you’re gonna need it after that show,”

She tilted her head toward your girlfriend glaring a hole in Leah’s doorframe.

“Good night Leah,” Your girlfriend bit out, pressing her thumb into the space at the very center of the back of your neck.

Leah rolled her eyes at the movement, well aware of the dynamic between you and your girlfriend. More aware than most of her teammates for both club and country because of how long you had known her. “Right you two, do have too much fun,”

You stared at the door for a long moment after it closed, the tension in your chest bleeding down to your stomach.

You knew your time was up. That you would have to pay the piper so to speak, and it had guilt swirling along with the unpleasantness.

You knew that all you had to do was utter a word and it would all be over.

You knew that Alessia would stick to your limits, no matter how hard you pushed her, but you couldn’t help the… lingering anxiety that came from your past relationships.

The ones that took advantage of your submissiveness, and the unhealthy way you had always chosen to deal with stress. The ones that ignored your pain for their own pleasure.

“Come on then,” Alessia said, very gently running the nail of her thumb down the length of the back of your neck, and squeezing your shoulder.

You hummed, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to your own hotel room door, but she paused before she opened it. You looked up at her, realizing suddenly that you were trapped between her and the door.

She stepped closer so your noses were nearly touching. She dragged her hand from your neck to your chin, using her thumb to tilt your head to where she wanted it.

“I love you,” She said, her voice soft and sincere. “No matter what,”

She leaned in the last centimeter separating you, connecting your lips in a very sweet kiss.

You leaned into it, opening your mouth when her tongue poked out, welcoming it and meeting it with your own so they spun in a slow dance.

It was the reminder that you desperately needed.

The promise that she would take care of you, even when you acted like a brat.

She pulled away just enough to disconnect your lips, and your mouths separated with a low pop.

“Remind me of your colors,” Alessia said, her thumb running across your cheek.

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” You recited, your voice breathless.

“Good girl,” She hummed. “Open the door, and take off your shirt and pants once we get inside,”

You swallowed hard at the change of tone.

“Yes Miss,” You said, already pulling the key card from the back pocket of your jeans. You didn’t look away from her as you fumbled until you heard the lock on the door beep, and clumsily pushed it open.

You stumbled backward, unwilling to break eye contact with your girlfriend because you knew you would probably get very little of it tonight.

She turned away from you as soon as the door slammed shut, busying herself with something you didn’t know.

“I believe I told you to do something,” She said, not even sparing a look over her shoulder at you, and you realized you had been staring for too long.

You cleared your throat, your fingers trembling as they unbuttoned your straining shirt.

You carefully pulled the satin materials from your shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the bed before you started on your pants.

It took you three tries to undo the button, the zipper getting caught in the stretchy material of your boxers. You peeled your tight jeans down your legs, folding them and placing them next to your shirt.

You felt Alessia’s presence behind you as you pulled off your shoes and socks.

As soon as they had been placed in their rightful place, her hand found its way to your bare back.

The touch was soothing and grounding and exactly what you needed to combat the slightly floaty feeling in your brain.

The hand slid up your back, all the way to your neck.

“Kneel,”

The soft squeeze on the back of your neck was like magic, as was the soft, but stern order.

You sank to your knees without question, your butt resting on your heels, your hands facing palm up on your thighs, your back straight and your head bowed, as the tension in your chest slowly ebbed away.

“I think we need to have a chat,” She continued, the hand on your neck sliding up to run through the hair at the base of your skull. Her nails scratched soothingly at your scalp. “Because your behavior in the restaurant is not the behavior of the good girl I trained,”

You grunted, glaring at a spot in the carpet.

You didn’t want to talk.

You already had to talk to Dana, to your coaches, and to the media. You had nothing left to say.

“Do you want to tell me what that was about at dinner?” She asked you, the fingers on your scalp wrapping through your curls. She gave it a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. “Because I’d really like to know what the fuck you were playing at,”

Her blue eyes burned into you, concerned and… something else lingering below the surface.

“I wasn’t playing at anything,” You grit out.

She raised a perfect eyebrow at you, as she searched your face.

“Is this because your fight was canceled?”

You didn’t answer her, unwilling to admit how… off balanced it made you feel.

But that was enough of an answer for her.

Her eyes softened minutely. “Baby,”

You shook your head.

You didn’t want her sympathy or her pity.

You wanted her to crush you.

“Alright,” She signed, tilting your head back so far it was painful. “I’m going to give you 2 options. We can call Clarke and Lexa and they can run you through a workout,”

You shivered at the mention of your respective striking and jujitsu coaches, knowing already that whatever the alternative was, you would be choosing it.

“Or you can take a punishment of my choosing,” She finished. “It won’t be an easy one,”

“I’ll take a punishment,” You muttered after a beat.

You didn't need easy right now.

She hummed, holding you close for a long second, and you relished in the attention.

That had been why you acted out at all anyway.

She dropped her hold on your hair suddenly, and you crashed back on your knees.

“On the wall,” She said, completely cutting contact with you, and walking towards the little kitchen area of the suite.

You let out a shaky breath, pushing yourself to your feet, and shuffled over to the wall next to the television across from the couch.

You turned to face the couch, wincing when Alessia pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and a jug of water from the counter and returned to you.

She carefully filled the glass to the halfway mark, before her attention turned to you.

You knew immediately what punishment she had chosen.

The rules were simple, you would balance the glass in one of the designated calisthenic positions. If the water spilled, or the glass fell then you would move to the next position. The punishment would be over when you made it through all 15 positions to Alessia’s satisfaction, or if you safeworded.

It sounded easy, or like it wouldn’t be effective, but that was entirely wrong. It was the punishment that you hated the most.

Your stomach never failed to drop when Alessia approached you with the wine glass and water. Just the sight of her with it was enough to have your muscles quivering at the impending fatigue.

“Ready darling?”

You made a low sound, leaning back against the wall, bending your knees, and getting into the first position.

A wall sits with your knees pressed together to focus the pressure on your quads.

She used a hand on your shoulder to push you further down the wall until your thighs sat parallel to the floor, and then very carefully balanced the stem of the wine glass between your knees so the base just barely brushed your hamstring.

You frowned. She usually balanced it on top of your legs further up your thighs so all you had to do was stay level. But where it was now meant that you would have to stay level and squeeze with your adductors so it didn’t slip and spill the water.

“Tell me your color,” She said, her thumb sweeping under your chin, drawing your eyes away from the glass to meet her blue.

“Green,” you murmured, leaning into the gentle touch.

“Good,” She hummed, cupping your cheek for another long second before she pulled away. “I’ll be right there, reading my book,”

Your gaze trailed after her as she settled herself on the couch directly across from you, picking up the 7 Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She easily found her page and began to read.

You glanced back to the balancing glass between your knees. It was already shaking slightly, the liquid vibrating around the bowl of the glass with the effort of your muscles to keep it in place.

It irritated you that you could already feel your quads and adductors quivering. It was pathetic that they were already fatigued after only 30 seconds.

You grit your teeth, letting your hips slip down further so you could squeeze with your glutes to take a little bit of the pressure off of your adductors. The glass shifted minutely, and the water inside sloshed dangerously before it settled.

Your eyes flickered back up to Alessia, wondering if she saw it too, but her eyes stayed planted in her book.

That irritated you too.

The only upside to your fight being canceled was that you got to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have to split your attention between her and not getting your face caved in.

Now you didn’t even have that.

You thought of safewording and forcing an early end to your punishment. It would be a violation of the rules though.

But when she found out that you broke her trust (the most severe infraction you could ever commit) she might choose a more… harsh punishment. One of the ones that was listed in the soft limits the two of you had agreed upon. One that would separate you from reality, and leave you feeling floaty and thoroughly controlled. Thoroughly owned.

A part of you wanted her to forcibly put you in your place. To disregard how bad it would feel tomorrow and the bad memories it would bring up for you, and just demolish you. To crush your will and grind you into dust. To beat you into oblivion.

It was what your opponent would have done anyway.

You knew Alessia would never agree to it while you were this upset. She didn’t like to give in to your self-destructive tendencies.

The glass between your knees shook again, drawing your attention back to the warm fire setting deeply into your quads. They would ache tomorrow you were sure, but then again wasn’t that part of the point?

It would be a reminder that even when she wasn’t with you, you belonged to Alessia. It was an invisible mark that claimed you. That reminded you she would always take control when you felt dangerously unstable.

And then it clicked.

This punishment was Alessia’s favorite because it was based on your choice to obey her. Your choice to push your body to its limits to please her. Your choice to give her control over you.

She didn’t need to use a belt or a paddle to bend you to her will.

She just had to ask.

You just had to relax and trust that she would take care of you.

You let out a long breath, counting down from 3 in your head. You let it fall back into the wall with a low thump and your shoulders sagged, as the remaining tension in your chest drained out of you.

“Good girl,” Alessia said softly, and the page of her book turned. Your eyes darted back to her, hoping that they would be on you, but they weren’t.

She looked so composed, both legs tucked under her, reading her book. It was diametrically opposed to how you felt, completely out of control. A quivering mess fighting to stay in a simple wall sit.

It further reminded you of your place, and the weight of it was enough to have your eyes sliding closed.

You focused on your breathing, 3 seconds and 3 seconds out. Deep and slow.

You lasted for more breaths before the glass slid from between your legs, landing on the carpeted floor with a light thud.

Your eyes snapped open, and again you expected to meet Alessia’s eyes, but they remained trained on her book.

“Next please,” She said softly, flipping another page in her book.

You slid down the wall to the floor, sucking in another long breath as you nodded, wishing that she would just look at you, but you knew that was part of the punishment too.

You took another breath as you rolled over to your stomach and sat yourself up on your elbows, squeezing your core. It was a slightly modified plank designed to show off the muscles in your back and arms for the benefit of your girlfriend and to give your legs a break for a bit.

She waited until you were in a position to stand, slowly padding over to you and grabbing the wine glass off of the floor.

She paused next to you, and you felt the way her eyes dragged across the muscles on your back.

“Always so pretty for me,” She hummed and you heard the water as she refilled the glass. “Too bad you can’t have the reward I had planned,”

Her touch lingered as she carefully balanced it between your shoulder blades, and stepped away.

“Let’s see if you can beat your best time on this one,” She said, talking more at you than to you. “Your record is 22 minutes, which isn’t quite championship timing. I think you need to make it at least 25,”

You groaned.

Her competitive streak was legendary and often a part of your punishment when you had been particularly ornery. You switched positions at her pleasure, so you knew you would be planking all night if you couldn’t break 25 minutes.

It was like when she decided you needed to break your edging record.

There would be no mercy unless you safeworded.

You focused on your breathing as she sauntered back to the couch, fighting to keep your core and back muscles locked to prevent the glass from tipping.

Your abs clenched, and you so badly wanted to roll your shoulders to relieve the tension building in the space between them. The space holding the glass.

You focused on the sound of Alessia’s breathing. Each rhythmic inhale and exhale like the clicking of a metronome, broken only by the occasional fluttering of a page.

You wished she had put the timer in front of you so you could see how long you had left.

But then again that would probably be worse.

You always found it harder to go the distance in a fight when you could see the clock ticking down. It always made you feel more exhausted at the end of the round, and made standing up off of your stool at the start of the next round that much harder.

You sucked in another breath, refocusing on the sounds of Alessia’s inhales and exhales. You counted each one, letting them wash over you and lul the fog slowly seeping through the crevices in your brain.

It let you forget the trembling in your core muscles and the sting between your shoulders. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was each of Alessia’s breaths, and your ability to please her.

To be honest, you forgot about the water balancing on your back.

You shifted, lifting your head so you could watch Alessia, and that sent the glass tumbling to the floor with a low thud.

She looked up at the noise, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the glass.

“Good job darling. You made time.” She rewarded you by meeting her eyes for a long second and flashing you a winning smile. “Position 3,”

You took another deep breath as she filled the glass.

You pushed yourself up into a pushup position, slowly lifting your right arm and left leg so they extended.

Your arms shook immediately, and it was then that you recognized just how exhausted you were already. Your core ached in a way that was edging on unpleasant, and your back felt like you had run 5 rounds with your jujitsu coach.

It was strange that you felt so drained and you had only made it through 2 positions.

Alessia waited until you were stable before she balanced the glass in the very same area between your shoulder blades.

The spot that felt so tight.

You knew you weren’t going to last long before she even stepped away. But you tried to breathe through it. You tried to ignore the little beads of sweat collecting at the small of your back, and the cramp setting in just below the glass, radiating up to your neck.

You deserved the pain. You had done your damndest to make sure Alessia gave it to you.

“Tell me your color,” Alessia said, her voice dripping dominance, sending a shiver down your spine and causing the glass to tumble off your back.

You collapsed to the floor.

You hadn’t even made it a minute.

“‘M ok,” You murmured into the carpet, each breath rattling as it left your lips.

You hadn’t even lasted long enough for Alessia to make it back to her seat.

It was pathetic.

“That’s not what I asked you,” She said, crouching next to you, her hand resting on the throbbing space between your shoulders. “Tell me what your color is,”

Your brain ran into overdrive, taking stock of the burn in your thighs, and the way the muscles in your back were locked up tight, and before you could even think through all the reasons why you shouldn’t safe word, “red,” was falling from your lips.

You had been red before you even started position 3, you realized.

“Good girl,” She said, settling fully down beside you, her hand running soothingly up and down your sweat-soaked back. “You did so well for me, and I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits,”

You groaned into the carpet as warmth spread through your chest, chasing away the last of the tightness that had been there since Dana caught you after the weigh-ins.

“‘M sorry for pushing you,” You mumbled, your words nearly getting lost in the floor. “Didn’t know how to…”

You trailed off, losing your train of thought. You weren’t even sure what you didn’t know how to do, only that antagonizing your girlfriend. Your miss. Had been the only way that seemed to make sense to achieve it.

“I know darling,” She hummed, gripping under your arms and shifting so your head was resting in her lap and your upper body was between her legs. “Take some deep breaths for me, and then we’ll get you cleaned up and we can cuddle,”

You made a low sound of agreement. You felt content with her completely around you, her scent enveloping you, and her hands running gently through your tangled hair.

She was the stability to your rocky seas, and you trusted that she would take care of you, just like she had already tonight.

A cuddle sounded perfect because it was perfect.

It was everything you needed. She was everything you needed.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #the come down universe

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lynaferns · 10 months

Text

FNAF Steampunk AU

That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.

I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.

So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.

Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.

If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:

All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).

Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.

DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.

Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.

Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.

Burntrap also apeared more.

All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.

Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).

Also, first idea and some doodles.

Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.

Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"

Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"

Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"

Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.

Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.

The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.

Sun-"..." "Gregory"

Gregory-"..."

Sun-"come on, say it"

Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"

Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.

They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.

Moon-"go gator boy"

Monty-"I hate you"

One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.

(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)

The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.

Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?

Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”

Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”

There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)

Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.

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minarisplaything · 9 months

Text

Blackpink In Your Area (Part Two)

pairing: jisoo x male reader (featuring an instigating jennie) word count: 1.6k rating: Explicit Summary: picks up where part one left off which you can find here. , part three is here

It was as if time itself had been frozen.

Jennie stood there, one hand still pressed against the wall while another now covered her mouth in shock. Jisoo was motionless, cum coating her hair and face and looking like she was torn between disgust and wanting to cry. And then there was you, standing there like an idiot with your mouth hanging open and your cock hanging out.

"Oh my god."

Jennie was the first to react and the first to move. "Jisoo, baby, are you okay?" she moved from her position, acted as though she had not just been getting her brains fucked out backstage. It left you bewildered but in reality was Jennie was doing the smart play. If Jisoo ran off they your little escapade would be discovered and likely worse things to come.

Your girlfriend handled her with care, gently brushing your cum from her strands of her. In response Jisoo nodded, finally seeming to gain her senses. "I-I didn't know you were..." she trailed off and you caught her gaze briefly shoot to your hanging cock. The silence was momentary but you couldn't help but wonder if Jennie had noticed it as well. "If I had known I wouldn't have come by I swear. I just didn't know where you were and — "

"Ssh, it's okay. Don't worry about it" Jennie reassured her.

If you had to label the dynamic between the two, Jennie was certainly the more dominate one while Jisoo seemed more meager and pure. A thought that had your cock twitching back to life.

Jennie continued to talk to Jisoo, her voice lowering to the point that you weren't able to hear what she was saying; all you could do was see Jisoo's small nods as she looked at Jennie with doe-eyes. What happened next nearly had you double over in shock and definitely had you hard again.

Jennie wiped some of the cum that had landed on Jisoo's cheek, however rather than flick or wipe it aside she slid her finger into her mouth, sucking it clean of the fluid. What are you doing?! my inner voice screamed. She had just been calming Jisoo down, maybe even making her forget all that had happened and now she had very bluntly and boldly reminded her! And yet it didn't stop there. Next, Jennie wiped off another glob of cum and wiped it on her tongue however she didn't swallow it, instead leaving her mouth open and tongue out expectantly. Jisoo, no longer the stunned deer in headlights, seemed to know exactly what was expected of her as she leaned forward to kiss her band mate.

It was a display you had never expected, yet judging by the way your cock was quickly hardening again one you were thoroughly enjoying. Your girlfriend's hand settled on Jisoo's neck, deepening the kiss effortlessly. It made you wonder if they had experience with this kind of exchange.

When the finally parted you were more turned on than before and equally as confused. "Um, Jennie? Do you want to fill me in on what's going on?" After all you were still standing there with your cock out feeling rather...exposed.

Jennie looked at Jisoo and then back to you. "Well..." she started, stepping forward, her hand curled around her friend's as they came towards you. "I think Jisoo wants to do something for you. If you don't mind that is."

Her words caused my mind to go blank trying to process what she was offering. You looked to Jisoo but rather than meet your gaze her eyes were transfixed on your exposed cock. Fuck was this really about to happen? You looked back to Jennie who now wore a cheshire grin. Clearly she was on board with this and you wondered if this didn't have to do with what she had whispered to her.

"She feels really bad about walking in on us like she did" Jennie's free hand moved up, stroking aside stray strands of Jisoo's hair.

Hell if anyone should feel bad it was you, you shot your cum on her after all. Now you couldn't help but think about doing so in a different manner. You looked back to Jisoo for confirmation but she was still transfixed.

"Is this true, Jisoo?"

"I..." she paused, swallowing thickly, "Yes...I want to do something for you." She finally looked up to meet your gaze, a certainty in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

The whole situation was rather sudden but it had made you extremely hard. Besides who were you to turn down a proposition from another member of Blackpink when you had your girlfriend's approval? Having made up your mind you gave a nod and Jennie looked practically gleeful. She leaned over, whispering some more things to Jisoo — whether it was instructions or encouragement only they knew.

You stood in anticipation, cock twitching when you saw Jisoo descend to her knees. Jennie who had been standing next to her moved to you, her hand on your shoulder. You would have asked her something but your mouth turned to cotton when you felt Jisoo's hand wrapping around your cock quickly followed by the warmth of her mouth.

Forgetting where you were for a moment you let out a moan. The visual of Blackpink must have taken that as a sign to continue as she wasted no time in taking your length fully, her head bobbing in a steady rhythm already.

"Look at her" Jennie cooed in your ear, her breath hot against it, "She's such a good girl isn't she?"

Where you had previously been focused on the the feeling and pleasure you looked down to lay your eyes on the sight. And what a sight it was. Kim Jisoo eagerly blowing you, her tongue swirling around your cock, her eyes occasionally glancing up to look at you. All you could do in response to her question was nod. A giggle left Jennie and she followed it up by placing a kiss against your neck.

"You know..." she started, speaking between each kiss, "You don't have to be so gentle with her." Jennie nibbled on your earlobe, her hand finding one of yours and guiding it to rest on the back of Jisoo's head. "She likes it rough."

Normally you might have hesitated, maybe asked first, but you were completely lost in the moment. Truth be told you were under Jisoo's spell as much as you were under Jennie's. As such it took less than a minute for you to act on your girlfriend's words, pushing down on Jisoo's head and forcing her to take your full length. She was surprised and caught off guard, gagging on your cock. You wondered if you had acted to hastily yet you could practically hear Jennie grinning from ear to ear. Had this been a part of her plan too?

Unwilling to change course, you pulled Jisoo's head off of your cock giving her a moment to catch her breath before pushing her back down. This time she was prepared, her throat relaxing as she took you fully. And god did it feel amazing. So good that you did it again. And again. And Again. Until it reached the point you were face-fucking a national beauty. In the backstage of her own concert no less!

When you finally pulled her off the innocent and pure face of Kim Jisoo was now a lewd display.

Her eyes were glazed over, tongue extended as a mixture of pre-cum and saliva trailed from her mouth.

"Isn't she beautiful" Jennie chimed in, a delicate hand reaching around you to cup Jisoo's chin. You could only nod wordlessly, enraptured by the sight.

You felt Jennie's presence shift from next to you and soon she was leaning down, turning her bandmate's head to hers and closing the distance between their lips. If you thought their kiss earlier had been marvelous, this was spectacular. Your cock twitched in appreciation, drinking in every moment of the sight.

When Jennie finally pulled away her thumb wiped at her bottom lip, a smug look on her features. She gave you one look and instantly you knew your girlfriend had another devious idea.

"You know" she started, her fingers wrapping around your cock and stroking you slowly, "I think there's an even better gift she can give you."

This comment seemed to bring Jisoo out of her lewd haze, her eyes darting over to Jennie as she bit her bottom lip. You hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two girls. The thought alone had your cock primed to act but this was one thing you couldn't just take Jennie's word on.

"Babe, I don't know that seems risky..."

You and her had just got caught doing exactly what Jennie was suggesting so it wasn't as if you were lying. You couldn't begin to imagine the trouble if someone else found the three of together.

"Please."

The response didn't come from Jennie but instead Jisoo. You looked over at the vocalist to find her wanton gaze looking back at you. "I want it...Here. Just like you were earlier."

You could see Jennie grinning out of the corner of your eye. Was this all just another part of her plan? "You heard her baby, you should get to work quick" Jennie winked and gave your cock a squeeze.

You could only watch in admiration as Jisoo stood, shyly pulling off her training shorts from beneath her outfit.

"God, look how wet she is just from sucking you off" your girlfriend observed, "You really enjoyed that didn't you?"

You didn't need to hear Jennie's confirmation, you could see it for yourself and the sight only drove your lust to new heights. Wordlessly you stepped towards Jisoo, the timidness you had felt earlier rapidly giving way to lust. You wanted to be inside her, needed to be. Given the treatment you had received earlier, you weren't sure how long you could last but you were ready to make the most of it.

Jisoo turned, one hand reaching out to grab the nearest surface. You had almost forgotten the fact that you were backstage, but the benefit was there were plenty of places for her to grab hold of. Hiking up her skirt, you half expected Jennie's hand to guide your cock to its new hole, but when she didn't intervene, you were more than happy to take the initiative. Leaning forward, your engorged head pressed against her slit, sliding in with some resistance.

With Jennie, you had worked each other up and teased beforehand, but this time there was no such thing. You're not sure either of you would have been able to handle it.

A small yelp left Jisoo as you sheathed yourself deeper into her, reveling in the sensation. It had been ages since you'd been inside any pussy that wasn't Jennie's, and you felt a bit guilty admitting to how good it felt. Her walls clenched around you, welcoming your invasion as one of your hands gripped her lithe waist. Despite wanting to bask in the sensation, you had enough presence of mind to remember time was of the essence. That and your cock was begging for more than just staying still.

You recalled Jennie's earlier words. That despite Jisoo's meager demeanor, she liked things rough. Did that extend to this as well? There was only one way to find out. You pulled your cock out before slamming it back into Jisoo, shaking her petite frame. A moan was cut off as she clamped a hand around her mouth.

Well, that was a good sign.

Her moans were all it took for the switch in your head to go off. Jennie's interruption earlier had left your cock eager for release, and you would be damned if you didn't get it now. You started to pound into the Blackpink vocalist with reckless abandon. Each stroke stretched her tightness more and more. If you were caught right then and there, you don't think you could've brought yourself to stop. You had finally reached heaven, and there was no going back now.

"Oh fuck."

The accented words sounded all too familiar, and you glanced over to see that this time around Jennie wasn't content simply playing a spectator. Her fingers were dipped between her thighs, wrist moving frantically as she got herself off at the sight of her boyfriend fucking her best friend. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths; the visage alone was enough to have your cock swelling inside Jisoo. If you were going to get off, then it was only right that she did as well.

You may not have had Jennie in your ear coaching you this time, but you had an inkling of exactly what was needed. You leaned over Jisoo, her back arched against you, "Jennie's watching right now. You should put on a show for her, don't you think?"

As expected, before she could even muster a verbal response, her pussy tightened around your dick at the mere mention of Jennie watching.

"Well, what do you think?" You questioned, purposefully slowing your thrust to get an answer out of her. You'd like to think if Jennie could speak right now, she'd be proud.

"Y-Yes…"

"Yes what, Jisoo."

"Yes, we should put on a show."

Satisfied with her answer, you picked up your pace again, thrusting forcefully inside her, earning an unmuffled moan in response. You heard another moan from your girlfriend and took it as a sign of approval. Despite being in a similar position to what you had been with Jennie earlier, this had a completely different vibe to it. One that was hard to put into words. You reached forward, grabbing a handful of dark locks and pulled roughly. Jisoo, whose head had been bent forward, was now exposed as you fucked her harder from behind.

You could feel your own release building again, this time even better than the last, but you refused to do so without taking Jisoo over the edge with you.

"Jisoo-ah~ he's getting close, I can tell."

For the first time since you started fucking Jisoo, Jennie spoke up. Her voice was breathy, and you imagined she was drawing towards her own orgasm along with you. You were grateful; it let you focus on fucking Jisoo while Jennie talked her over the edge.

"Ah…When his expression gets like that…" she let out a soft moan, "Remember when he came all over you? He's going to do it again…Fuck…he's going to cum inside you, I'm jealous."

Jisoo covered her mouth just in time as she let out a small scream. However close she had been, Jennie's words were clearly enough to send her over the edge. If you weren't in the midst of nearly cumming, you would have marveled at the power your girlfriend held. Despite her words, you considered pulling out, only to be stopped by Jennie.

"Do it, baby. Cum inside her."

That verbal encouragement was all you needed. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped Jisoo's hips tighter, hips slamming into her once more before your release exploded inside of her. It took a moment; ropes of pent-up cum were finally unleashed as your cock continued to twitch inside her.

For a long moment, all you saw were stars, even as your dick began to soften inside Jisoo. You were faintly aware of Jennie speaking, but you couldn't make out what she was saying with the ringing in your ears. You finally started to come to when Jisoo finally slipped out of your grasp, adjusting her outfit in the process.

You looked to your girlfriend, who had a smile that was far too innocent to not have an ulterior motive.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, we can do some formal introductions. I don't know about you guys, but I think we're all going to get along great."

#jisoo x reader #male reader #kpop smut #blackpink smut #jisoo smut #bpiya series

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

Steddie rockstar x roadie AU, with Steve being Eddie's queer awakening

(in a not-fic-format because I cannot be arsed to actually write it)

So. Corroded Coffin isn't huge by any means, but they're big enough. Successful and respected within their genre. Has a loyal fanbase, constantly sells out smaller venues, gets to go on tour every so often. They're rockstars who've made it while still getting to live like they're not rockstars when off the clock (and stage). The best of both worlds, really.

They're gearing up for another tour and have a couple of new faces on their crew. One of them got the job by being a friend of a friend. He doesn't at all look like he'd be a roadie for CC, and he doesn't actually listen to them – he's more into classic rock (respectable) and occasionally new wave (not respectable), but it's whatever. He's strong and hard-working and gets the job done. He also withstands the initial hazing like a champ, even biting back a few times. Yeah, Steve Harrington carves a place for himself in the crew and is soon one of them.

Eddie is especially fond of the new guy. Partly because it's clear Steve is as enamored with Dustin as Eddie is, and mutual interests bring people together. But also because Steve is simply a fun dude to be around? He's nice. Except for when he's mean; then he's funny instead. He's honestly funny a lot of times, even when he doesn't mean to be. Like, sometimes someone will make an exceptionally nerdy reference that he doesn't get, so he'll tilt his head and scrunch his eyebrows as it's explained to him. And, all right, maybe that's not funny, per se. More like cute. Endearing. Eddie often finds himself endeared and wanting to pat Steve on the head like the sweet little puppy he so strongly resembles.

The others mock him for it. Tease him about his man-crush on Harrington. Eddie laughs along with them, because yeah! Were he into men, Steve absolutely would've been his type. Look at him! Guy's ripped and has great hair (almost better than Eddie's. Just imagine the mane it'd be if he let it grow past his shoulders...) and Eddie has great taste. He'd for sure be head over heels for Steve if he were gay, and he is man enough to admit it.

That's how the flirting starts – as an extension of the joke. It's not out of character for Eddie, who flirts with everyone. With reporters, interviewers, photographers, TSA officers, venue security, other bands, anyone! Gender, age, or appearance don't matter because flirting is fun. And it's especially fun to flirt with Steve, because he flirts back! No matter how much Eddie does it, Steve will flirt back and help make everyone laugh. It's a great part of their dynamic and actually brings them closer as friends. Dustin would be proud of them.

So, while on tour, they have this thing where one member of the crew gets to decide where they'll go after shows or on their days off. Participation is optional but encouraged, because it's an 'organic bonding experience' or whatever their manager called it. Occasionally it'll be a movie or a museum, but usually the destination is a bar or club. What's there to say, they're a bunch of male, red-blooded twenty to thirty-somethings – what better pasttime is there than to get drunk after a hard day's work? Yeah, every so often someone will pick up a girl, but it's a rare occurrence. A bunch of the guys has special ladies waiting at home, and for the single ones it's much easier to just book a date with their own hand.

There's one guy on the crew, Peter, who always takes them to a gay bar when it's his turn. This because he is gay. Duh. No one minds it, and if they do they don't come back next tour. Corroded Coffin prides themselves on their allyship. They're freaks of nature welcoming all other freaks of nature. Seriously, what does it matter if a dude likes cock instead of tits? Why is it wrong if he wants it up the ass? It's actually not that bad! See, Eddie used to date this woman who was puh-retty kinky. Pegging was just one of the many, many, maaaaaaany things she enjoyed. And Eddie loved her, so, well. It wasn't as good as she claimed it'd be, but it was fine. Enjoyable enough to do again. The point is that CC doesn't dance with homophobia, and Eddie will scream it from the top of every table.

Anyway. When it's Peter's turn, Steve (who hasn't gotten to pick yet because he's the newbie and they pick last) comments upon it. Nothing big. Nothing bad. Still, Gareth is on him, puffing himself up like a chihuahua and asking if Steve has a problem with it.

Eddie’s hands turn clammy with nerves in the split second it takes for Steve to roll his eyes and scoff "of course not".

Look, he'd really like for Steve to be back next tour, okay? They're buddies now and he doesn't want to lose him to bigotry. Also, it'd suck to have to tell Dustin that the guy he hero-worships is actually a douchebag. Nothing to fear, however – Steve continues to prove himself to be a good dude. He doesn't even blink when propositioned at the club! Simply tells them "thanks, but no thanks". Unsurprising, since he's cool with Eddie's nonsense, but there's a difference between a straight guy hitting on you as a joke and a gay guy doing it for real. At least, for some it is. But not for Steve. Fuck, Eddie hopes he'll be back next tour. He's on his way to being Eddie's new best friend and he'd miss him.

Then, it's time – they're in Chicago and it's Steve's turn to pick. Some of the others grumble over the newbie getting such a big city at his disposal. Eddie doesn't blame them for suspecting favoritism – it's happened before – but not this time! It just became like this and Eddie has nothing to do with it! Ask the other band members.

(When he breaks the news to Steve, his hazel eyes light up. He asks, "Can a friend of mine come with?"

"Sure, man," Eddie says, clapping him on the shoulder.

Steve buzzes with excitement, giddier than a kid on Christmas morning. Fuck, he's so cute.)

That night after the show, as they're leaving for the 'organic bonding experience' (seriously, Chrissy? Of all the things you could call it...), they're met by a young woman outside the venue.

She's tall and skinny, like a giraffe, and that's all Eddie can tell at first glance because she rushes up and flings herself into Steve's embrace. They hug, they laugh, they might cry a little, and he even spins around with her in his arms.

(Girlfriend? She's certainly pretty enough for it.)

Once the heartwarming reunion is over, Steve introduces her as Robin, and tells her that it's his turn to pick a place for them to decompress but he's making it her choice. Robin spits out options with a speed none of them keep up with; Steve stops her, saying, "No, Robs. I'm making it your choice."

They share a look.

She gasps.

They grin, mischievously, and then...

She takes them to a lesbian club.

It's open to gay guys too, obviously, but clearly caters to lesbians. It's a smaller thing, the kind that entertains a steady line of regulars. Apparently, Robin and Steve are among these regulars, because the bartender greets them by name the moment they step inside.

They order their drinks and claim a booth. Robin is quick to instigate a discussion about what dorky things Steve has done while away from her. Eddie is happy to share while Steve laments he should've known better than to introduce them.

An hour or so in, Robin skitters off to catch up with a group of women, all varying degrees of butch. Not ten seconds later, someone new claims her seat (which is also Steve's lap). Eddie mistakes them for a girl at first, because they're small with a high-pitched voice, but no, it's just the twinkiest twink. He makes himself at home on Steve's thigh, pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek and squealing, "Stevie! I didn't know you were back!"

Steve laughs. "Hey, babe. Just for tonight. I'm here with my coworkers."

The twink twists around in Steve's lap. He really is girly-looking: soft jawline, slender build, shoulder-length blond waves, and huge eyes enhanced with makeup. He even smells like a woman, strawberry and jasmine.

"Oh! The rock band!" He extends a dainty hand. "Hi, I'm Brendan!"

Brendan sticks around for a while. Like Robin, he wants to know what Steve's been up to. Unlike Robin, he's more interested in awe-inspiring stories than embarrassing ones (unfortunate, for the latter kind heavily outweighs the former). He doesn't move from Steve's lap. Kind of weird, actually. Like, there are available seats. Yes, Robin also sat exclusively in Steve's lap, but that's different. They're best friends and it was chaste and cute. Brendan is... honestly, Eddie doesn't know who Brendan is. Some dude who's shameless enough to rub his ass on Steve's dick in full view of everyone. Yeah, you're not as subtle as you think, babe.

He doesn't even move when they get up to let another crew member go to the bathroom! No, Steve slides out of the booth still holding him, Brendan perched on his forearm. His muscles flex, a vein straining underneath the skin, but Steve's face is relaxed. As if the – small, sure, but still grown – man in his arms weighs nothing. More likely, Steve is just that used to carrying things.

For some reason, Eddie's mouth dries a little at the thought of it.

At last, Brendan leaves, but not before sweetly kissing Steve on the lips and telling him to "let me know when you're back for real, stud".

Steve promises with a laugh, then turns back to the table and rejoins the conversation as if it was nothing strange. As if making dates with other men happens to him all the time.

Shit.

The entire thing leaves something gnawing on Eddie. He holds it in while in the club. He holds it in when they escort Robin to her cab. He holds it in as they walk back to the tour buses.

Then the others are gone. It's just him and Steve left, lingering to smoke in the parking lot, and he can't hold it any longer.

"I didn't know you're gay!"

Smoothness, thy name is Eddie Munson.

Steve shrugs. "I'm not; I'm bisexual."

"Right, right."

Eddie takes a deep drag, putting some of the smoke in the wrong pipe and coughing it up. Steve thumps his back.

"Woah, man, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eddie rasps, tears prickling his eyes. "So, um, is it okay? What we've been... The flirting?"

"Uh, yeah?" Steve tilts his head, eyebrows scrunching and, Jesus Christ, how can he be so adorable? "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because!" Eddie gestures between the two of them. "You're bi, and I'm not, and is it offensive for me to...?"

Steve blinks at him, before bursting into laughter. Eddie feels the blush warming his neck.

"Don't be stupid," Steve says in between peals of giggles. "It's just a fun thing. S'not that deep. You don't have to lose sleep over it."

"Alright, man. Then I won't."

But he does.

That very night he finds himself tossing and turning. And thinking. Thinking about Steve. About Steve's strong arms and broad chest. About his square jaw and plush lips. About his thick hair and hooded eyes. About how the ugly polo shirts the techs wear look genuinely good on Steve, and about how his tight jeans leave little to the imagination. That particular line of thought has Eddie whimper and roll his hips against the mattress. Rachael's strap-on always felt kind of so-so. Was it because it was too rubbery or because it was too small?

He also thinks about what makes Steve Steve. Like Steve's selflessness, always the first to volunteer to do the tedious work so no one else has to. And Steve's barbed tongue, sharp enough to give even Eddie a run for his money. Eddie thinks about their easy banter, and how Dustin sings his praises, and how Steve let Robin pick a club when it was his turn.

After three consecutive nights of tossing, turning, thinking, and no sleep, Eddie comes to a horrifying conclusion.

It's not simply a question of 'want'. He's not just horny and curious. No, he likes Steve.

It makes things so fucking awkward. He has no idea how to act around Steve afterward. Falling for a crew member is bad enough (so unprofessional; Chrissy would definitely be on his case if she knew), but this is worse because he's a guy. Eddie's never been into guys before! Sure, there are men out there who are objectively hot. Eddie can admit that. But it's not the same. There are feelings involved here.

And the worst is that people notice. Steve notices. How can he not? When Eddie stops responding to their usual flirting, turning into a skittish bunny whenever Steve is close.

At first, it makes Steve pause. Tilt his head, scrunch his eyebrows, and pout in confusion (Eddie's heartbeat turns irregular every time he does). Then Steve pulls away, and Eddie's heart fucking breaks. The atmosphere among the crew turns tense; Peter starts sending him dirty looks that Eddie shrinks away from.

A few days into it, he's cornered by a pissed off Jeff.

"Dude, what's your problem?" he snaps; Eddie wants to sink into the ground. "I thought you were better than this. Who cares that Harrington is also into dudes? It's still Harrington! It won't kill you to treat him like you used to. No one is going to think you're gay for standing next to him."

Eddie croaks, "What if I am?"

"You- What?"

"What if... I like Steve?"

Jeff's jaw hits the floor. "What."

Eddie inhales deeply, staring at his wringing hands. "I like Steve. I've been thinking... After Chicago, I started to think about... And I realized I like him." A sob tears from his throat. "I don't know what I should-"

Jeff's arms wrap around him; Eddie buries his face in the crook of his neck.

"Jesus Christ," Jeff mutters, stroking Eddie's back. "Um, it's okay? We support you. No one will judge you! We love you all the same."

Eddie nods, Jeff's leather jacket squeaking with the movement. He's been wearing it since high school and it smells like home.

"I don't know how to act around him anymore," he sniffles.

"Why don't you tell him?"

Eddie recoils from the embrace to give Jeff his mightiest 'are you stupid for real' look. Jeff sighs at him.

"Oh, come on. You're his friend and a good-looking guy. Why not?" Jeff says, as if it's that easy. But...

"I'm not his type!"

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do! Didn't you see that Brendan guy?"

Jeff falters. He realizes Eddie is right. Because, yes, Eddie is pretty hot. He has the long hair and a pretty face, he's been told. But he's still a masculine guy. A blue-collar type with calluses on his hands and dirt under his nails. He's not a svelte, dainty, little twink – he's as tall as Steve is, with more tattoos than bare skin and who smells like sweat and tobacco badly masked with cheap cologne, not strawberries and jasmine. He doesn't wear makeup or do his hair and some days he just fucking picks a used shirt from his pile and maybe sniffs it before putting it on. He talks too much and too loud. His limbs flail when he's excited. He's not going to sweetly ask for flattering stories about Steve – his instinct is to tease him for calling one of the guys from Nip/Tuck 'Dr. McDreamy'. He's closer to Robin than he is to Brendan. Jesus Christ, he's in the same category as Steve's lesbian best friend! Or at least he was, before he shot their friendship to hell.

There's no hope.

The tour ends on a sourer note than previous ones. It's all Eddie's fault. He doesn't even stick around for the last 'organic bonding experience' – he gets into his car at the first opportunity and drives home.

And then comes the wallowing. Several tubs of ice cream are consumed as High Fidelity plays on loop on Eddie's TV. He writes dozens of miserable, yearning songs and screens his calls, not even picking up for Chrissy or Wayne. It's not until Dustin's cheerful lisp rings out from his answering machine that there's a change. He's inviting Eddie to come visit him and Suzie and the cats in Massachusetts, like he always does after a tour.

Eddie can't turn that down. Besides, he probably needs to get out of the house.

So he goes, and it's nice. Dustin is still a little shit, Suzie is a pearl, the cats are cuddly, and Eddie is a good enough faker to mask his emotional state – his hosts notice nothing amiss.

Then, halfway through his visit, Eddie returns from his walk and who does he find unpacking their car in Dustin and Suzie's driveway?

Can you guess? I think you can.

It's Robin!

And Steve. They're a package deal, you know.

And Dustin's like, "Eddie! They're here! Oh, did I forget to tell you they were coming? Oops. Well, you already know them, so it's fine."

And Eddie is panicking, and Robin is trying to murder him with her mind, and Steve is just like,

"Hey."

Coldly polite.

Eddie hides in his guest room until dinner time. When he comes out, he expects Dustin to chew him out for being an asshole homophobe and kick him out of his life permanently.

But he doesn't. Dinner is as usual, if Steve Harrington ignoring you and Robin Buckley glaring at you is part of your usual dinner experience.

After cleaning up, Steve steps outside to smoke. Eddie, figuring he has to take some responsibility, follows him. Steve is standing on the deck, elbows resting on the wooden railing, his back to the house. He straightens up and turns when Eddie closes the screen door behind him. The sun has set, but the moon is out; Steve's profile is sharp in the pale moonlight, his posture sure. The cherry of his cigarette makes shadows and flames flicker dramatically over his features, highlighting the edges and the curves and he's so fucking gorgeous Eddie forgets how to breathe. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

He slinks over, Steve's gaze following him.

"Hi," Eddie says.

"Hi," Steve says.

"You didn't..." Eddie swallows. "You didn't tell Dustin?"

Steve frowns. "No. It's between us. For now, at least."

"Oh."

Shuddering, Eddie wraps his arms around himself. It's late summer and still warmish as long as there's no wind. Right now it's windless, the cold coming from within.

"I wanted to talk."

Steve hums, noncommittal.

"I wanted to apologize."

Another hum, more interested.

"I'm sorry. For how I acted. I've been an asshole and you don't deserve any of that."

Eddie glances up to gauge Steve's reaction, and oh. The whole evening, Steve's been aloof, cordially keeping Eddie at arm's length, but now...

Now he just looks sad.

A few weeks ago, they were close enough for Eddie to hug him when he looked like this. Eddie would crush his own heart with a sledgehammer if it meant they'll go back to that.

He says, "We haven't known each other for long, but you're already one of my best friends. Then it got weird at the end and-"

Steve's face hardens again, eyes tapering with anger.

"Things didn't 'get weird', Eddie. You made them weird. What the fuck?"

And Eddie takes a deep breath and says,

"I like you."

Shock colors Steve's expression; he takes a step back. It takes everything to stop Eddie from following in an attempt to reel him back in.

"I don't know when it started," he says, the confession tumbling out. "I always liked you? You're a good guy and fun to hang with and a great friend, and I guess you were hot, but a ton of guys are hot and it doesn't have to mean anything. I can be straight and still think guys are hot, you know? But then, in Chicago, you came out and I started seeing you differently. So, huh, turns out, in my case? Thinking guys are hot does mean something. And I freaked out because I didn't know what to do. Being close to you made me so nervous, and I couldn't tell you how I felt because just because you like guys doesn't mean you like me, and I already know your type is cute little blond twinks, and-"

"I actually prefer brunets," Steve says.

Eddie chokes on what else he had to say. He looks up at Steve, who's smiling. Kind of shy but mostly bright, eyes crinkling at the corners. His cigarette is almost down to the filter; Steve drops and snuffs it out without looking away from Eddie. His eyes are like gold, glittering.

"Y-you what?"

"I don't really have a type," Steve says, stepping closer. "I like who I like." Another step. "But, uh, most of my relationships have been with brunets." Another step, then stop – they're nose to nose. "Nerdy ones."

Eddie's head spins. He squeaks, "Oh?"

Steve nods. "I like smart, passionate people. And I..." He giggles. "I've had a crush on you since the beginning."

Eddie's head fucking explodes. It leaves a gash in his face that stretches from ear to ear. A breeze blows past, caressing his burning cheeks. It's his turn to giggle.

"You're fucking with me."

Steve tilts his head, but doesn't scrunch his brow this time. No, it remains smooth, but his eyelids droop as his eyes roam Eddie's body.

"So far, only in my head."

Eddie sputters. He grabs a fistful of hair and pulls it in front of his red face. Steve, the bastard, laughs at him. He reaches out, coaxing the locks out of Eddie's grip and tucks them behind his ear. There's an endlessness in his gaze; simultaneously looking through Eddie and at him. Seeing him from every angle, especially the ugly ones, but touching him just as tenderly anyway.

Eddie wets his lips. Since he caused the distance in the first place, it only seems fair he takes the last step. "Do you want to go out with me?" he asks. "A date?"

Steve leans in until they touch from forehead to nose tip.

"Yes," he says. "I do."

#Eddie: It's not that easy!#Narrator:It was in fact that easy #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #my writing

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