#the thing you need to keep in mind is that most of this one is spoken and not sung
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lovingsomeone | steddie x reader
summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)
warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.
a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!
“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you.
“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back.
Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on.
She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile.
It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working.
She still was unsure about you.
She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck.
But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off.
Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you.
Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them.
“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did.
Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you.
“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands.
“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face.
“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it.
Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.
“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed.
“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up.
“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you.
“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question.
“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it.
“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van.
“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind.
“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant.
“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said.
“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…”
“Hot?”
“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.”
Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris.
It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you.
Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous.
“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours.
“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain.
“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity.
“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left.
“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.”
Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home.
Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car.
-
You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up.
It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up.
No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right.
Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was.
As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after.
You were truly breathtaking.
Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind.
It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them.
Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now.
Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you.
Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air.
He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence.
He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds.
He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while.
For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt.
“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers.
He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been.
“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back.
“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose.
“You’re drunk?”
“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party.
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face.
“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been.
“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies.
Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did.
Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve��s got a crush on you.
“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry.
“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?”
Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in.
You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands.
You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down.
You were crying now.
“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?”
“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body.
“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them.
“Are you sure?”
“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head.
“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper.
“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did.
The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts.
“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now.
“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious.
“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit.
Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now.
“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh.
“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet.
“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine.
“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance.
As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear.
As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident.
“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them.
“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner.
He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car.
Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.”
She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while.
2.9
-
-
“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful.
“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come.
The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house.
Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate.
Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear.
“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked.
“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him.
“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now.
He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses.
The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it.
Steve's words didn’t help.
In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first.
“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle.
Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second.
Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired.
Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck.
-
The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool.
You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met.
Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did.
“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her.
“Sure.” She added before following her into the house.
Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come.
Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen.
“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk.
“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.”
“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?”
Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend.
“He’s okay sharing as in…”
“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself.
“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter.
“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine.
“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely.
At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish.
“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off.
He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back.
“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve.
“Why’d you say that?”
“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder.
“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face.
Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face.
You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes.
“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you.
“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.” You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you.
“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you.
Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind.
Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused.
“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips.
“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you.
Maybe you were.
It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not.
You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment.
The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully.
The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face.
“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door.
“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged.
“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion.
You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate.
You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips.
“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could.
“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him.
“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming.
Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss.
Just one kiss, he told himself.
His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper.
It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play.
Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back.
That was more than one kiss.
“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where.
“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully.
“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.”
-
The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw.
It wasn’t difficult.
When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded.
Now you were sitting between them both.
Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief.
“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair.
“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave.
Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm.
“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle.
“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too.
“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face.
It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it.
The type of look that drove you insane.
Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought.
“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well.
Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time.
You hadn’t seen him shirtless.
It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone.
Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening.
His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner.
He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand.
“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off.
Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug.
“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you.
“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth.
As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly.
Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him.
Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought.
Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened.
“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now.
He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his.
Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around.
Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth.
Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last.
“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool.
Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane.
Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance.
Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going.
The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back.
“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that.
“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.
Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight.
“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else.
“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?”
He nodded.
Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch.
“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie.
Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it.
You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself.
Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him.
You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve.
He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock.
You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him.
“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth.
“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach.
Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name.
“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe.
“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him.
You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.
“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck.
“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air.
You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over.
Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud.
The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body.
“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined.
Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had.
“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.”
You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you.
As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead.
“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.
“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them.
They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to.
It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist.
“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer.
“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more.
You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand.
“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax.
“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch.
You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair.
“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it.
“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one.
“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know.
“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.
“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know.
“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours.
“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone.
“If you let me.”
“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.
#steddie x reader#steddie fic#steddie x y/n#steddie x reader smut#steddie#steddie oneshot#steddie smut#steddie hyperfixation#eddie munson smut#steve harrington smut#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie stranger things#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction fem!reader#stranger things 4#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson slow burn#eddie munson x you#steve#steve stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington stranger things#steve ha#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader#smut
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Keep that Coffee Hot
You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.
When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone.
You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business.
And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.
This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams.
“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.
“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”
You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly.
“That's because I'm the client this time.”
“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”
You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”
“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.
Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.
“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”
The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”
“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”
The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”
“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”
You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.
The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”
You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”
“Sure am, darlin’.”
You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.
The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then what do you say?”
You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”
“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”
You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”
Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.
The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town.
You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.
The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”
You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”
“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”
You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”
His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”
You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets.
He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.
“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”
You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.
“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”
The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.
The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you.
“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”
He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”
You smirk. “That, too.”
He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”
“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”
The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”
The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.
You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.
You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.
He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”
“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”
The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.
You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.
After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”
The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”
You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”
He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”
“Try me.”
“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”
#cooper howard#fallout prime#fotv#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard x reader#fallout the ghoul
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Just maybe ⎸ N.H
Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader
genre: friends to lovers
Warnings: swearing, fluff
synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints.
word count: 2.3k
authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open.
missing the devils rn :(
Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.
From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.
Him.
The captain of the New Jersey devils.
Him.
The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you.
Him and his cute accent.
Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.
Him. Nico Hischier.
This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .
After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.
Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.
Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back?
Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?
Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.
Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men.
However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.
Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.
You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA.
You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day.
X
You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency.
You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.
“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.
“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it.
“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.
His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own.
“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red.
Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.
You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot.
“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.
“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.
Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump.
“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing
“Hello?”
“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.
You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.
Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.
You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats.
“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face.
“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers in your lap.
“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.
Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.
If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico
Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)
“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me” she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.
“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread.
“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.
“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink.
“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.
‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?
surely just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.
X
X
Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils.
Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.
Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.
X
You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.
He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly.
“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.
“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask
“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady.
A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you.
Fuck it.
You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.
You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away.
“I like you.” you confess.
Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.
“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek.
Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.
You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.
Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?
Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.
Maybe.
Just maybe…
He does love you back.
#nico hischier#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nico hischer x reader#nj devils#new jersey devils#friends to lovers
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Ok I just finished rewatching The Rundown Job and so far I have -
The most ridiculously peacocking display of competence porn. What do you mean "'sup Eliot." What do you mean "who needs luck". Where is your damn shame? Where is hundred more episodes of just like this? 10/10 worth every watch.
'I've got a hacker *enter bf*, and a thief *enter gf*'
Only Parker noticing 'too many cops'. It's such a cool detail throughout the show how observant she is just offhandedly, unlike Eliot who observes actively.
Parker pretending to promptly fall asleep as soon as they're in the truck, only to have the handcuffs off in seconds.
"What do they say about me? I hope they gave me a cool nickname." I'll bet all the kudos on my most popular fic that he hacks into his own pentagon file regularly to make up his own nickname.
"Hell your girlfriend's already out of the cuffs" *Parker smiling and sliding them off* AND IT'S DIRECTED NOT TO HARDISON, HER EXPLICITLY STATED BOYFRIEND, BUT AT ELIOT, THEIR BOYFRIEND.
Putting Hardison in those glasses. Those damn glasses. I need a glass of water jfc it's hot in here
'For better or worse, we change together'. Aaaaaand that's on wedding vows.
"I'll drive." "Hold on." "Exactly." "No, I mean hold on. (Our gf is a former gateway car driver)". "Oh. Oh you mean. Yeah."
The hand on the wrist and eye contact and saying 'I'm not afraid. I got the best thief and the smartest guy I know chasing this guy'
HAND ON THE BACK OF THE NECK AND PULLING CLOSER 'HEY LISTEN TO ME YOU'RE THE SMARTEST GUY I'VE EVER KNOWN HARDISON I NEED THAT BRAIN TO GET ME TO HIM. GET ME TO HIM'. Screaming crying frothing at the mouth et cetera et cetera
Figuring out the job TOGETHER
This is Hardison. Hardison likes his personal space. These are Parker and Eliot. Parker and Eliot also like Hardison's personal space.
The eyes on each other's lips during unlocking doors and saying thank you
'Kiss for luck?' the sequel: love boogaloo
HACKING THE MF CAR HORN WITH AN SOS THROUGH A MOBILE PHONE
"BOOM MY BOY THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!!" first of all that's his boy so jot that down
Also side note this episode shows the fascinating way Hardison uses his brain and I wish we saw more of it because it's fascinating how he derives what he does from the few bits of data he gathers
"He's on the train!" "Yeah well so am I." "When you pick him out of the crowd-" "No. I'm ON the train! 🙄 Never mind..."
Two good ole boys behind the wheel 🎶 chasing the target and their gf in a million dollar car 🎵 two good ole boys-
*Hanging by her fingertips from a running train roof almost mashed into pulp by signage" WOOOOOO HOOOOO
The way Parker picks him out, not by using thief sense, but mastermind sense that he's immune -> got vaccinated -> pain in the arm. Brilliant way to pick someone out from a crowd while not raising panic
Keeping him talking till she takes the briefcase that he HANDCUFFED to himself right under his nose. How? Well, she's Parker.
"I kept one diamond. Sorry." I love her
Finally "kiss for luck" the trilogy comes to an end
*casually endangers self* "Fire is the only thing that kills it right?"
"Don't do that to me, I can't lose you. Do you understand? I can't lose you. Don't scare me like that. I can't-"
Eliot Spencer: *Barks 'Alright!' at the guy touching him to literally patch up his bullet wound.* Also Eliot Spencer: *ditches crutches so he can lean on his girlfriend and boyfriend*
"I work with them now." Would you like to stay for dinner? "Honor among thieves? Something like that." WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER??!!!
"I don't do hospital." "I told you, he takes getting shot very lightly." Uh huh, you know what I smell? LOVE. In the air! Might be some blood from those bullet wounds too ig.
What a show.
#leverage#eliot spencer#alec hardison#parker leverage#jace.txt#leverage ot3#eliot x parker x hardison#hitter hacker thief#'we change together'#the rundown job
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bereft // nakahara chuuya
tw ⇢ enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, accidental love confession, mutual pining, making out, cunnilingus, marking, squirting, pet names, dirty talk, unprotected sex, implied masturbation, creampie, so much feelings, angst, character death, implied suicide, canon divergent
wc ⇢ 11.9k
a/n: uuuuuuh
The dingy Port Mafia bar thrums with raucous energy, neon lights casting lurid shadows across the smoky haze. Drunken laughter and slurred jeers ricochet off the stained walls, punctuated by the clink of glass and rattling ice.
And you've never been so goddamn tense in your life.
It's not like this vile atmosphere is anything new to you. As an agent of the Armed Detective Agency, seedy dens like this are just another Tuesday night's stakeout locale. You've posed as provocative arm candy more times than you can count, all in the name of gathering intel or inching closer to a high-priority target.
But there's something about the charged undercurrent crackling through this specific Port Mafia haunt that sets every nerve on high alert. Perhaps it's the debauched gazes burning into you from the leering criminals crowding the bar. Or the unmistakable sense of danger that lurks behind even the most minor-seeming mafioso's sneering smiles as they appraise your figure lounging in the corner.
You're supposed to be just another jaded call girl looking to cultivate some wealthy "clients" tonight. But you're hyper-aware of the slight bulge beneath your tight minidress - a meticulously concealed holdout pistol that's already becoming sticky against the inside of your thigh from clammy perspiration.
Exhaling a breath, you try to assume an air of boredom as your hooded eyes lazily roam the rowdy crowd. In through the nostrils, out through the pursed lips, nice and slow. You are the picture of vacant disinterest.
Until your roving gaze inadvertently lands on a shockingly familiar figure near the bar, and you instantly choke on the lungful of smoke-hazed air.
There, hunched over a glass of whiskey with furrowed brow and glowering into the amber liquid...is Nakahara fucking Chuuya. That gorgeous mess of orange hair is just as unruly as always, his slim form clothed simply in one of his signature crisp white shirts and dark slacks. You'd recognize the dangerous aura surrounding that unassuming body anywhere, no matter how casual he appears.
A phantom ache blossoms in your abdomen at the sight of him, flashing back to your first run-in with those bullets that marked the start of your endless, bloody game of cat-and-mouse. Unbidden, your fingers twitch toward the reassuring hardness tucked against your outer thigh, mentally counting the number of shots to subdue him.
Just as quickly, you berate yourself for the impulse. Need you forget already? This depraved confrontation was the entire purpose of your undercover operation tonight. Getting close to Chuuya and exploiting any potential vulnerability that could be used to dismantle his new plans...that was the mission you willingly walked into.
Dragging your eyes away from his brooding figure feels like monumental effort. But you manage to resettle your features into that of aloof disdain just as one of the rowdier patrons lets out a wolf whistle in your direction.
"Hey there, pretty thing! You lookin' for some company tonight?"
Here we go - time to work the role you've inhabited so many times before. Tilting your head, you shoot the drunken man your most sultry look, allowing your gaze to brazenly roam over his stocky frame before giving a coy flutter of your lashes.
"Depends...you got the cash to keep me interested, bigboy?"
The loutish grin stretching over his pock-marked face is all the response you need. With a slight sway of your hips, you slink across the bar toward his beckoning hand, mind already whirring on how to maintain this high-risk gambit of seduction and deception.
Just another job in the field, right? You can do this. Stay focused, do not give in to distraction or doubt.
Even if the persistent nagging at the back of your mind unceasingly whispers that those rules unequivocally do not apply whenever Chuuya is involved.
You paste on your most coquettish smile as the greasy patron waves you over with a meaty paw, making sure to add an extra sway to your hip movements. This guy clearly can't resist playing the big man around a pretty face.
"Well now, ain't you just the whole package?" he leers, giving you an exaggerated once-over as you slide into the empty seat beside him. The stench of stale beer and cheap cigars washes over you, making you fight back a wince.
"I do try my best," you murmur demurely, pitching your voice into that husky, sultry register that drives most men wild. Slowly, you lean in closer until your curves are almost brushing against his burly arm, holding his unfocused gaze through the veil of your lashes. "Though I'm sure a strapping guy like you already knew that."
The drunk's chest puffs out slightly at the transparent ego stroke, just like you knew it would. "Heh, damn straight, baby. Feel like letting ol' Daisuke here show you a good time?" One ham-sized hand starts inching up your exposed thigh with inevitable confidence.
Showtime. You allow your lips to quirk into the barest hint of a smirk, keeping your tone low and seductive. "Is that so? Well...I do have pretty discriminating tastes." Gently but firmly, you catch his wandering paw and guide it back to rest innocuously on the bartop. "Why don't you start by getting me a top-shelf drink, stud? Let me know if you've really got the means to keep me..."
You pause to lean in until your mouth is brushing his ear, voice dropping to a whisper. "...satisfied."
The shudder that ripples through Daisuke's broad frame is unmistakable, his pupils dilating to saucer-like dimensions. Without needing to be told twice, he frantically barks for the disgruntled bartender.
As the sleazy patron busies himself ordering the most expensive whiskey in an obvious bid to impress, you allow your gaze to drift away with studied nonchalance. But like a magnet, your eyes are subconsciously seeking out that head of mussed orange hair seemingly out of compulsion. And there he is, still brooding silently over his drink just a few spaces down the bar from where you sit...
Chuuya doesn't appear to have noticed your arrival yet, thank whatever deities exist. His shoulders are hunched and tense beneath that fitted white dress shirt, every once in a while raising his glass to take a measured sip.
You can't quite make out his expression from here, but there's something almost melancholy in the set of his jaw and the slight furrow of his brow that draws your eyes like a magnet. You find your curiosity piqued against your better judgment - just what circumstances could leave even the infamous Chuuya looking so uncharacteristically pensive and...dare you think it...vulnerable?
The ember of an idea begins sputtering in the back of your mind, firing up the nerve endings across your scalp with a sort of electric tingle. If you play your cards right, exploit the right angles just enough to pique his interest without arousing too much suspicion...this could be your ins-
"Hey sweet cheeks! Whiskey on the rocks, just how you like it." Daisuke's raucous voice practically bellowing in your ear shatters your concentration.
You can't quite suppress the slight wince, but quickly school your features back into a mask of allure as you turn your attention to the waiting glass being shoved under your nose. "Why thank you, handsome. That's exactly the kind of drink a powerful man orders for a thirsty girl."
Daisuke's chest puffs out even more, clearly gratified at the praise. "Heh, only the best for a sexy thing like you, darlin'. Love to make a woman purr like a kitten, if you catch my drift."
The wink and lascivious grin he shoots your way makes you mentally retch, but you force your own lips to curl into a coy simper. "Well then, why don't we see if you've really got the means to back that up," you husk out, gesturing discreetly at his bulging wallet with your chin.
The drunken lech practically starts salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs, fumbling the billfold open and stuffing a wad of crumpled tens into your waiting palm. You carefully keep your features impassive as you glance down appraisingly at the measly stack - barely enough for even fifteen minutes of your lowest rate. But you can hardly contain your smirk of satisfaction as you smooth the bills out to make them appear even flimsier.
"Mmm...I suppose this'll do for now, big spender. Long as you don't mind me keeping my options open." You shoot him a pointed look over the rim of your whiskey glass before downing the whole thing in one burning swallow.
The message is clear - your time and company won't come without him investing much, much more if he wants to keep you around for anything more...personal. Sure enough, Daisuke's brows knit together in obvious dismay at your dismissive assessment of his offering.
"Hey now, don't be like that, baby! I'm just getting started over here..."
As his babbling reassurances fade into the background cacophony of the bar, you allow your gaze to drift one final time toward that solitary beacon of orange in your periphery vision. Your ploy seems to have worked - Chuuya's laser focus is piercing directly toward you, brow furrowed even deeper as he openly stares. You don't break eye contact, keeping your expression carefully neutral.
One thin russet brow arches ever so slightly, almost in a silent challenge. Like he suspects the ruse you're running but can't pinpoint exactly why it seems...off. You tilt your chin in response, letting your lips quirk in the barest hints of a smirk before turning your attention fully back to Daisuke's increasingly pathetic groveling.
Hook, line, and sinker. You've got Chuuya's undivided attention now, whether he'll admit it or not.
It's time to really reel him in.
You lean back with deliberate slowness, allowing your low neckline to gape open even more as you eye Daisuke with lidded appraisal. "Well now, aren't you just a sweet talker," you murmur, making sure to drag your pink tongue across your lower lip in an exaggerated swipe.
Daisuke audibly gulps, his gaze dropping in a way that makes you want to deck him even as you fight to keep your features smoothly impassive. "I'll take that as a compliment from a gorgeous gal like yourself," he manages, recovering with a lecherous grin and letting his beefy arm drape across the back of your chair.
You allow the faintest shiver to roll through you, more out of revulsion than any attempt at playing coy. "Why don't we move somewhere a little...quieter, so I can show you just how much I appreciate a real man's flattery?"
The growl that rumbles from the portly man's chest makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle with unease. Subtly, you resettle yourself on the barstool, allowing your knees to fall slightly open and give him a tempting glimpse of creamy inner thigh.
Sure enough, Daisuke's eyes immediately snap downward like a dog ogling a juicy bone, his tongue slipping out to wet his cracked lips. "Whatever you say, babydoll," he husks, greedily dragging his gaze back up your figure. "Why don't you lead the way?"
The barely concealed lust dripping from his tone has you suppressing a grimace, but you channel it into yet another lithe stretch that pulls your tight dress taut across your curves. Sliding off the stool with exaggerated grace, you toss one last smoldering look over your shoulder as you saunter toward the dimly lit hall concealing a warren of private rooms.
"Keep up if you can, tiger. Can't guarantee I'll wait for dawdlers."
The throaty chuckle your words elicit might as well be a wolf's growl for all the stomach-churning effect it has on you. You don't have to look back to know Daisuke is practically tripping over his own feet to follow in your wake, arousal swiftly obliterating any lingering traces of rational thought.
Keeping your swaying steps measured, you silently appraise each secluded nook you pass, searching for one tucked away yet not overly obscured. The arousal thrumming through you is strictly the intoxicating thrill of a successful con rapidly coming to fruition. Just need to seal the deal for Chuuya to find you, but not so easily that it ruins the illusion...
Bingo. You spot a half-hidden alcove at the end of the hallway, shielded just enough by a gauzy curtain to avoid immediate detection. Tossing your head to allow your wild curls to bounce, you make a big show of "stumbling" inside, mussing the drape slightly before glancing back to where Daisuke leers from the hall entrance.
"Almost left you behind, handsome. Care to join me...if you think you can handle it?"
The prospect of convincing prey practically salivating after him is far too tempting for such a simpleton to resist. As expected, Daisuke lurches forward with surprising quickness to slip behind the curtain, meaty hands already outstretched to undoubtedly grope and paw-
Only for his impatient lunge to run smack into an unexpected steel vise grip on his wrist, yanking his motion up short with enough force to make his eyes bulge in shock. A harsh chuckle rumbles from the shadows by his ear.
"Should've known you louts would be sniffing around, as always. Do yourself a favor and stick to pissing up the bar, yeah? Wouldn't want any...unpleasant accidents to happen to your plaything."
With that final snarled comment, Daisuke's wrist gets brutally wrenched in a way that makes him cry out sharply, stumbling back and cradling his now-reddened appendage against his chest. Stunned, he gapes at the vaguely humanoid silhouette now resolving from the back gloom like an apparition.
"Ch-Chuuya-san! I didn't realize...I mean, I was just-"
"Save the pathetic blubbering, worm," the distinctive, gruff baritone growls back, the shadows shifting to reveal a steely glare and familiar mussed hair gleaming like burnished copper in the low light. "Get lost before I decide to make things messier."
That brusque warning appears to be more than enough for the simpering fool. With a strangled whimper, Daisuke gives a clumsy bow and scurries away, abandoning his intended conquest with all the hurry of a dog tucking tail. An almost pitying scoff echoes after him down the hall.
It takes every ounce of your restraint to remain seated and perfectly still, giving no outward sign of the thunderous riot your pulse has become. This is it - the opening you'd been angling for has finally presented itself. Any other sane person would be frozen with terror in the face of this unparalleled threat.
But terror has always been a distant acquaintance to you when it comes to Chuuya. It's been supplanted by a far more intoxicating feeling - the lure of getting hopelessly, perilously close to the untamed flame without letting your wings get burned in the process.
So you simply regard him with studied nonchalance as his tall form stalks from the shadows into the gauzy half-light, sharp features settling into a glowering leer.
"Fancy meeting you here...Chuuya."*
A tense silence stretches as Chuuya slants you an inscrutable look, one russet brow arching ever so slightly.
"You know who I am," he states flatly after a moment, clearly not bothering with any pretense. His gaze sharpens further, flicking over your form in an assessing once-over. "Yet you don't seem the type to go running for the hills like that sniveling worm."
You allow your lips to curve into the faintest of smirks, shrugging one shoulder in a studied show of nonchalance even as your heart hammers against your ribcage. "Well now, you'd be correct about that observation," you murmur, carelessly crossing one leg over the other to allow your skirt to ride even higher up your thighs. "I don't scare quite so...easily, let's say."
The way Chuuya's narrowed eyes instantly zero in on the expanse of bare leg you've revealed makes your gut clench with something that definitely isn't fear. More like the thrill of a predator getting a glimpse of a new, elusive kind of prey to evaluate. You keep your gaze locked boldly with his, not about to be cowed.
"That so?" Chuuya rumbles after a weighted pause, straightening from his slouch as he takes an prowling step closer. There's a distinctly dangerous edge to the banked smolder now flickering behind those scarlet irises. "Seems like an awfully stupid broad has wandered a little too far from whatever dank hole she crawled out of."
The sheer arrogance bleeding from his words, delivered in that low, grating growl, should rightfully have your hackles raising. A massive voice in the back of your mind screams at you to defuse this situation, disengage before it spirals into territory you may not be able to endure.
Instead, you find yourself leaning forward with avid interest, allowing the whisper of your neckline to gape open even further as you flash Chuuya a coy look from beneath your lashes. "What can I say? Maybe I've just acquired a...taste, for tempting a little risk every now and then."
The way his pupils flare infinitesimally at your blatant implication is almost worth the sizzling lick of tension now heating the cramped space between you. Feeling unnervingly brazen, you let your tongue swipe across your lower lip before continuing in your most sultry drawl.
"Doesn't hurt that danger often comes with certain...thrills attached, wouldn't you agree?"
There's something almost predatory about the rake of Chuuya's hooded eyes up the length of you now, his full lips quirking faintly at the corners. "Well now, that's certainly an...interesting revelation comin' from a scrap like you."
One booted foot edges incrementally closer into your space until the tips of his polished toes breach the whisper-close perimeter you're holding. Something about the nonchalant invasion of your boundaries makes the fine hairs on your arms prickle with an odd, static sort of electricity.
"So tell me, sweetheart..." Chuuya leans in even further now, his features almost blurring with proximity until that smoldering stare bores into yours with blistering intensity. You can smell the smoke and whiskey's potent musk radiating from his pores, taste the faint metallic tang of violence that seems to linger like an aura around him.
You don't - can't - look away, finding yourself utterly suspended in his molten regard.
"Just what kind of...thrills were you hoping a monster like me could provide?"
The low, guttural purr of his final words sinks directly into the pit of your stomach like a dousing of chill water. Except rather than dousing anything, they seem to ignite every tingling nerve ending across your skin into roaring life. Every well-honed instinct is silently screaming at you to take your gun out and shoot.
But your heart thunders in your ears for an entirely different reason, one you can no longer deafen yourself to even as sirens blare in the back of your mind. Because right here, right now, the monster in question has coaxed an infinitely more primal beast from its usually well-restrained cage inside you.
And now, face to face with the only man who's ever brought those feral urges to the surface, you can no longer remember how to resist its howling call.
So instead of heeding your flashing warnings, you allow every last gossamer thread of control to unravel from your grasp. you let the curtain drop completely - metaphorically and literally, as you purposefully lean back to reveal the shadowed haven of your chest undulating with quickening breaths.
Exposed and hungry, you hold Chuuya's smoldering crimson stare as the first provocative rumble parts your lips:
"I was rather hoping you'd show me..."
Chuuya holds your brazen gaze for a beat, russet eyes glittering with an unreadable intensity. You can practically see the gears turning behind that furrowed brow as he processes your bold proposition, evaluating how serious you are about tempting such dangerous territories.
At last, his lips peel back in a slow, wolfish smirk - the kind that makes your pulse spike despite yourself. "You've got a set of nerves on you, I'll give you that much," he rumbles, leaning back just enough to allow his eyes to roam overtly over your displayed figure with relish. "Most dolls wrap themselves up tighter than a hair-trigger gunslinger around me. But you..."
His gaze flicks back up to lock with yours, blazing with undisguised intrigue. "You're just beggin' to get burned, aren't you, gorgeous?"
There's an undeniable thrill licking up your spine at the blatant challenge arcing between you, the kind of illicit adrenaline rush you've been chasing perhaps a bit too recklessly lately. Mustering your courage, you hold Chuuya's smoldering stare and part your lips in a slow, deliberate sweep of your tongue.
"Well now, they do say there's a certain...excitement, in playing with fire, don't they?" You make sure to pitch your tone into a sultry purr, allowing your lashes to dip in a slow blink. "And who are we to question that particular wisdom?"
The low, gravelly chuckle that rumbles from Chuuya's broad chest causes a frisson of sensation to trickle down your body. Slowly, he pushes off from the wall, allowing his fitted white shirt to strain against his defined torso as he prowls the sparse distance separating you. Your breath hitches despite yourself when he looms into your personal space, near enough that you can detect the smoky, smoky whiskey scent of him.
"Is that what you're angling for, then?" he murmurs, head dipping until you can feel the whisper of his warm exhalation skating across your cheekbone. "A chance to dance among the flames and see if you get yourself burned?"
You resist the urge to shiver, forcing yourself to meet his heated stare steadily even as your pulse throbs with mounting anticipation. "Well now, I do love indulging in life's...rarer sensations whenever I can."
One daring hand lifts until your fingers are just grazing the open vee of his dress shirt, allowing your splayed digits to tantalize the hard planes of his chest through the crisp fabric. Boldly, your hooded gaze flicks up through your lashes, a shiver of adrenaline sparking beneath your skin as Chuuya's own eyes darken infinitesimally.
"Tell me..." you breathe out, letting your words skate like a caress against his stubbled jaw. "Just how much thrill...does a rare indulgence like you have to offer?"
For a long, heated moment, Chuuya simply holds your daring stare, the muscles in his forearms tensing as his fingers flex almost unconsciously. You can sense the thunderous caution warring with that undeniable spark of interest in his hooded gaze as he sizes you up fully, evaluating whether you're truly the kind of hazard worth risking his...attention.
At last, a slow, wicked smirk curls over his lips, and a shudder of electric premonition dances down your spine.
"Well now...what do you say we go somewhere a little more...private, and find out?"
Your pulse thrums with a heady mix of trepidation and illicit excitement as Chuuya holds your daring stare, clearly weighing his options. Despite every rational instinct screaming at you to defuse this situation, you find yourself utterly transfixed - a moth helplessly drawn to the hypnotic flames.
At last, Chuuya leans back with a slow smirk, giving you an assessing look-over that makes your skin prickle. "Tell you what, gorgeous - how about we take this little game somewhere a bit cozier?" His gaze briefly flicks toward the hallway beyond your alcove's tattered curtain. "Got a private office upstairs that'll give us all the...privacy, we might require."
The unmistakable emphasis he puts on that last part sends a shiver of smoky anticipation licking down your spine. You know you're treading into incredibly dangerous territory here - this is the Port Mafia's most volatile element you're brazenly tempting, after all. One misstep, one misread signal, and there's no telling how quickly this situation could careen into utter chaos.
And yet...you can't resist the thrill of poking at that particular rattlesnake, drunk on the dizzying high of skirting peril. Holding Chuuya's piercing stare steadily, you allow one side of your mouth to curve into a slow, provocative smile.
"Lead the way, then...I'm partial to a little...risk, with my indulgences."
Chuuya's eyes flare infinitesimally at your words, that smoldering gaze roving over you with rekindled interest. For a beat, the two of you are suspended in a sort of heated detente, the air between you thrumming with roiling tension and unspoken challenges. Despite yourself, you feel a whisper of excitement curl low in your belly as those molten azure irises slowly blaze a path down your form.
Then, abruptly, Chuuya spins on his heel and strides toward the exit without another word. You blink, momentarily wrong-footed by his abrupt dismissal, until he tosses a final look over his shoulder - the expression on his face makes your breath hitch.
"Well? You comin' to collect your indulgences or not, gorgeous?"
There's an unmistakable glint in Chuuya's stare then - a sort of heated promise that has your adrenaline spiking despite yourself. Like he's testing you, issuing a blatant dare to see if you'll recklessly rise to meet the perilous temptation head-on.
A greater part of you knows you should immediately abort this reckless gambit, disengage before you cross a line there's no coming back from. But that primal part that's already been stirred into electric wakefulness refuses to back down from such a flagrant challenge.
So with one last inward steadying breath, you smooth your features into an insouciant smirk and saunter after Chuuya's retreating form. Every step behind him down the dimly lit hallways feels like you're striding deeper into a dragon's den, utterly insignificant compared to the scorching, chaotic power you're brazenly trailing.
But rather than cowing you, the prospect of getting inexorably closer to such a dangerous presence sets your blood simmering with heady, illicit adrenaline. You can't tear your eyes away from the confident set of Chuuya's shoulders, the controlled, subtly powerful roll of his hips with each long stride. It's like watching a panther stalk through the underbrush - power and grace roiling in sync, utterly spellbinding.
By the time the two of you reach the non-descript doorway tucked away on one of the upper floors, your pulse is thundering with a strange sort of breathless anticipation. As Chuuya swings the door open and gestures you forward with one beckoning hand, something sparks hot and illicit in your veins.
You don't hesitate before crossing the threshold into the dimly lit office space, chin raised in smoldering challenge. The distinct sound of the door clicking shut behind you seems to ring with finality, sealing you in this intimate battleground with your most dangerous opponent yet.
One deep, steadying breath later, and you slowly turn to face the sole occupant now in the room with you. Chuuya prowls closer, looking utterly at ease amidst the overlapping shadows cast by the single flickering lamp. He cocks one russet brow slightly, the ghost of his ever-present smirk still playing about the corners of his lips.
"Well then...care to indulge me on just what kind of rare...thrills, you think you can handle?" The low, gravelly purr of his drawl seems to reverberate against the very walls with its heady promise.
In this moment, all bravado flees as you find yourself pinned by the weight of Chuuya's piercing stare. There's something incandescently feral roiling just beneath that cool surface, power and intensity thrumming from every taut line of his lithe form. You feel suddenly, viscerally aware of the yawning chasm of danger you've actually stumbled into by provoking such an untamed juggernaut.
Yet despite the rapidly shrinking space between you, despite the alarms clanging in the back of your mind...you can't seem to make yourself turn and flee while you're still able. No, some deeper, more primal instinct is beading bright pinpricks of perspiration across your nape, thrumming with a low, electric sort of excitement as Chuuya stalks ever nearer.
So rather than retreat, you feel the first reckless threads of control beginning to fray as your body's most basic urges override any sense of self-preservation. Your lips part in a tiny shuddering inhale as those feral crimson eyes finally bore into yours at point-blank range, the heat of Chuuya's compact frame now radiating palpably against yours.
In that delirious instant, everything narrows until there's only the two of you, coiled taut as a wire split-second before detonation. You can't tear your gaze from Chuuya's even if you wanted to - find yourself suspended, mesmerised as he subtly scents the air around you both with a slow inhale of his own.
Then, at last, he leans in until his lips are a scant breath from yours. You freeze, dizzy at the sudden proximity, skin tingling...and wait with inexplicable tension for the final ax to fall.
The words that finally part his lips are little more than a smoky rasp, thrumming with a vibration that sinks sparks into your very marrow:
"Then let's find out, shall we?"
You feel like every nerve ending in your body has been set alight as Chuuya's words seem to reverberate against your very bones. The low, smoky rasp of his voice carries a thrumming vibration that sinks sparking tendrils of electricity into your very marrow.
In that suspended instant, everything narrows into hyper-focused clarity - the smoldering weight of his piercing crimson stare boring into yours, the slight hitch of his chest with each measured inhale, the faint whiskey-and-smoke scent of him swirling in the charged space between your bodies. You're acutely, dizzyingly aware of Chuuya's compact frame radiating an intense, banked heat so palpably against you that your own breathing grows shallow.
Despite the alarms still blaring at the back of your mind, something infinitely more primal has awoken and taken the reins - that reckless, thrill-seeking part of you that cannot seem to resist chasing the untamed wildfire no matter how badly it threatens to burn. You can't tear your widened eyes away from Chuuya's own hooded gaze, utterly transfixed by the promise of power and intensity thrumming in every taut line of his form.
And when he finally moves, prowling that last infinitesimal distance to bring your bodies into searing alignment, you can't even find it in you to flinch.
There's the faintest tangling of your mingled breaths as Chuuya noses infinitesimally closer, and your chest stutters on a shuddering inhale in response. Yet you remain frozen in place, utterly suspended in the gravitational pull of his aura as his lips ghost across the heated whisper of skin just beneath your jaw.
"So tell me then..." The gravelly rumble of his low purr ghosts across your pulse point, igniting a shivering trail of sensation down your neck and across your collarbones. "Just how much hazard were you angling to chase tonight, gorgeous?"
The blatant challenge dripping from Chuuya's words finally spurs you back into motion after your momentary paralysis. Steeling your nerves against the molten intent searing from his heavy-lidded stare, you force your lips to curve into a slow, smoldering smirk of your own.
"Why don't you go ahead and show me...unless you're not confident you can rise to the occasion?" you breathe out, allowing your voice to dip into a low, throaty purr of provocation.
The infinite pause that stretches between you next is charged like a livewire, tension and unspoken baits crackling in the superheated air. For an endless moment, the two of you remain suspended in a crystalized tableaux - Chuuya pinning you in place with smoldering promise, you staring him down with charged challenge.
Then, like the abrupt snap of a rubber band, the fragile tension finally breaks.
A harsh exhale gusts from Chuuya's parted lips as a muscle ticks in his tensed jaw, the banked intensity in his stare flaring into a bonfire of blatant hunger. You can't quite muffle the tremor that wracks through you in response, heat licking beneath your skin like the first sparks of a brushfire about to ignite.
"Well then..." he rumbles in that distinctive rasp that seems to lick across your nerve endings in a searing caress. "I do so hate to disappoint a lady with...particular tastes, now don't I?"
The final taunting lilt of his words hangs for a torturous beat in the electrified space between your bodies. Then, before you can so much as draw another shuddering inhale, his hands are on you - rough, calloused fingers skating up the bare expanse of your waist to sear possessive brands into your overheated skin.
The molten contact finally shatters the spell of restraint you've been struggling to maintain against the steadily encroaching tide of Chuuya's presence. A sharp, wordless exhalation punches from your lungs as you instinctively arch into his scorching palms like a tree being bent to gale-force winds. Every nerve is alight, thrumming feverishly with heady, illicit anticipation that seems to vibrate in your very bones.
Chuuya's low, guttural rumble of approval vibrates against your heated pulse point in a distinctly possessive sort of resonance. "That's what I thought..."
Those large, blisteringly warm hands flex against your sides, fingers tightening in an inescapable grip that has you trembling minutely. There's a distinct sense of him looming, encompassing your entire field of awareness. The terribly intimate cocoon of his powerful aura and crisp, smoky scent has raptured senses occluding everything else in a dizzying spiral of sensation.
You're only dimly cognizant of the slide of hot breath skating up the column of your vulnerable throat before Chuuya's graveled rasp ghosts across your lips with finality:
"Now let's see how much of my...particular skills, you can take."
A tremulous shiver wracks through you at the blatant intent scorching from Chuuya's words. For all your attempts at bravado, at provoking this untamed hurricane, there's no denying the molten thrill now simmering low in your belly.
You're well and truly in the eye of the storm's chaos now. There's no retreating, no shred of distance to put between you and this barely-leashed juggernaut towering over you. The heat radiating from Chuuya's compact frame, the banked intensity blazing behind those smoldering russet irises, the thrumming aura of controlled violence roiling just beneath his deceptively calm surface...it all combines into a heady, electrifying force that's utterly overwhelming your senses.
You can't tear your widened gaze away from the searing intensity of his stare, can't halt the trembling that wracks through your very bones as Chuuya regards you with that slow, lupine smirk curling the corners of his lips. It's as if he can sense the first tendrils of apprehension starting to unfurl in your gut, can scent the first hints of your rapidly dwindling bravado like a predator sensing weakness in its prey.
That molten gaze narrows infinitesimally, holding you utterly transfixed as those wicked lips part to exhale a low rumble that seems to reverberate against the very walls around you:
"Well, well...aren't you just a messy tangle of nerves now, gorgeous? Should've known better than to go poking a sleepin' beast."
Your throat works in a convulsive swallow, suddenly achingly aware of the rapid flutter of your pulse thrumming visibly beneath the hollow of your exposed throat. Whether from exhilaration or mounting trepidation you can no longer tell - everything's starting to spiral and blur together into an indistinguishable haze in the wake of that banked wildfire radiating from Chuuya in rolling waves.
You manage the barest shake of your head, gaze skittering away in a rare moment of cowed discomposure as the instinct to physically retreat briefly rears its head. But Chuuya's callused grasp on your waist tightens infinitesimally, effectively pinning you in place like a cobra subduing its prey.
"Now where d'you think you're going, babydoll?" The low, honeyed rasp of his drawl slithers down your neck like velvet laced with venom. "Don't go getting cold feet after working so hard to earn yourself a dance with the big bad wolf..."
Swallowing hard against his iron grip, you force yourself to match his smoldering stare with a defiant tilt of your chin. "I’m not," you rasp, hating how breathless you sound pinned beneath this man's thrall. "Unless you're the one getting cold feet...?"
Chuuya's eyes suddenly turn flinty, his smirk twisting into something sharper and colder. "Funny you should mention that," he says, his tone deceptively light despite the new tension thrumming through his frame. "Tell me...what's a pretty little Agency thing like you doing here trying so hard to play the vamp? Shouldn't you be out there fightin' the good fight, making the city a safer place and all that righteous bullshit?"
You freeze, eyes widening as the blood drains from your face. He knows. Somehow, Chuuya has seen through your undercover operation. Your hand twitches instinctively towards the concealed pistol against your thigh.
Chuuya's grip on your waist tightens infinitesimally as he leans in closer, his eyes blazing with a combination of hunger and...sadness? "Yeah, that's right. I know who you are and why you're really here. To take me out, just another job for the Agency's dog."
His words slice through you like a knife as your heart pounds in your ears. This was never supposed to happen. He was never meant to discover your true motives.
Chuuya's gaze bores into you, stripping away every layer until you feel utterly exposed before him. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you? Even playing the seductress...I'd know you anywhere."
There's a rawness to his voice now, a vulnerability that takes you aback. His fingers loosen slightly against your throat, almost a caress. "I've watched you for years, you know. From a distance, always keeping my distance because I knew we could never be anything more than enemies."
Your breath catches in your throat as realization dawns. The longing you'd glimpsed in his eyes...it wasn't just your imagination. "Chuuya..." you whisper, torn between the instinct to attack and something far more dangerous blooming in your chest.
He laughs bitterly, the sound grating. "I'm just a fool, aren't I? Falling for the one person I can never have." He reaches up to slowly pull the wig you wore for your disguise, revealing your natural tresses. His thumb strokes your wildly fluttering pulse almost tenderly. "So go ahead, do what you came here to do. At least I got to be this close to you one last time."
The pistol feels like a lead weight against your thigh as you gaze up at this deadly man, your sworn enemy, and see the depths of his longing and resignation laid bare.
Your breath catches in your throat as you gaze up at Chuuya, the man you've sworn to take down as an enemy of the Agency, and see the naked longing and resignation in his eyes. In that moment, you realize with dawning clarity that you can no more kill him than cut out your own heart.
The pistol concealed against your thigh suddenly feels like an utterly foreign, leaden weight. How could you ever bring yourself to pull that trigger against this deadly yet achingly vulnerable man before you? The one who has haunted your footsteps and thoughts for years, it seems, with the same tortured yearning you've struggled to ignore?
Chuuya's thumb strokes your thundering pulse once more, his touch tentative yet scorchingly intimate. "Well?" he prompts roughly, jaw tensing. "Aren't you going to finish what you came here for, gorgeous?"
You open your mouth, but find no words will come. What could you possibly say in this suspended moment where everything you thought you knew has been shattered? Your entire world has abruptly tilted on its axis, sending your convictions and allegiances spinning into freefall.
Seeming to take your silence as answer enough, Chuuya's expression shutters closed once more. He lets out a harsh exhalation, fingers tightening almost bruisingly against your hip. "Fine then. Have it your way."
With that gruff declaration, he suddenly seizes you by the shoulders and spins you both around, slamming your back against the wall with enough force to expel your breath in a pained rush. You instinctively try to pull free, to summon your training and detach from this volatile situation before it spirals further.
But Chuuya is relentless, pinning your wrists above your head in one unyielding grip while crowding you with the searing heat of his compact frame. The hard planes of his body cage you in utterly, his thigh jamming between your legs in a blatant parody of intimacy before he snaps your holster off along with your gun.
"If you're not going to finish the job, then at least grant me this one indulgence before you walk away," he snarls against the hammering pulse at your throat. His free hand slides possessively up your ribs until it's fisted in the hair at your nape, wrenching your head back to fully expose your vulnerability to his piercing stare. "One taste of you before I burn it all to the ground."
The world seems to splinter and fracture around you as Chuuya's heated words penetrate the haze of shock and confusion swirling through your mind. This is madness, utter insanity descending between your tangled forms. He's the enemy - untamed, volatile, a force of destruction that could annihilate you without a second thought.
Yet despite every rational warning blaring at full volume, you can't seem to make yourself struggle against the scorching brand of his body anymore. Can't deny the reckless part of you that has been awakened and roused into insatiable hunger by Chuuya's smoldering stare and this searing, unexpected revelation.
So instead of heeding your ingrained instincts, you simply hold his burning gaze steadily and allow the first lethal admission to tumble recklessly from your lips:
"Then take what you need from me..."
Chuuya freezes at your breathless entreaty, the blazing intensity in his gaze seeming to flicker and gutter for just an instant. As if some part of him hadn't truly expected you to capitulate to this reckless descent into madness between you both.
For a suspended heartbeat, the office seems to hold its collective breath, awaiting the final plunge over the edge of this precipice you now teeter upon. You can feel Chuuya's ragged exhalations ghosting across your parted lips, can all but taste the roiling torment and need crashing together in the infinitesimal space separating your bodies.
Then, like a rubber band reaching terminal tension before snapping, every last strand of restraint finally frays into oblivion.
A harsh growl rumbles from the depths of Chuuya's chest as he surges forward, claiming your lips in a searing, bruising clash. The tight grip in your hair wrenches your head back at a nearly painful angle as he plunders the intimate depths of your mouth with almost feral intensity. You can only cling to the hard planes of his shoulders and surrender to the riptide of sensations crashing over you.
There's no gentleness, no teasing exploration in Chuuya's onslaught - only the desperate, blazing need to consume, to leave his brand seared into every inch of your being. Each nip of his teeth against your lips, each rasp of his calloused palms mapping the curves of your body, it all conveys the same frenzied message:
Take what you can from me before this all gets torn asunder.
You're only dimly aware of the harsh grind of the wall at your back, of Chuuya pinning you there with the inexorable force of his lean musculature as you both drink desperately from this catastrophic spiral. All that exists is the scalding trail of his lips, the shuddering gasps being torn from your lungs, and the roaring heartbeat thrumming between your tangled bodies.
At some point, Chuuya wrenches his mouth free to blaze a path of smoldering, opened-mouth kisses down the vulnerable column of your throat. The rasp of his stubble scraping your over-sensitized skin drags a trembling moan from you that seems to reverberate in the very air. He lets out his own guttural groan against the wild flutter of your pulse in response, clutching you impossibly closer and grinding his hips against yours in a blatant rhythm.
"Been drivin' me crazy for years, you know that?" he rasps into the sweat-dampened hollow of your neck, each word seeming to sear itself into your very bones. "Watchin' you from the sidelines, playing the good guy while I kept my distance like a good little monster..."
His teeth graze the juncture of your shoulder hard enough to sting, but the burn only streaks molten licks of sensation straight to your pussy. "Never thought I'd get the chance to finally have you...even if it's just this once."
The desolate undercurrent woven through Chuuya's heated words penetrates the lust-hazed spiral of your mind, sending a jagged fissure straight through the reckless abandon coursing through you. This frantic, devastatingly intimate blaze between you isn't just about giving in to primal desires and sating forbidden cravings.
For Chuuya, it's a last-ditch grasping at ephemeral smoke before the world as he's known it inevitably turns to ash and ruin. A final indulgence to sate his starving beast before resigning himself to the solitary, untamable path he was seemingly born to walk.
Something hot and agonizing clenches in your chest at the bitter realization, an unfamiliar and terribly disarming ache blooming beneath your ribcage. You want - need - to soothe that weary resignation bleeding from Chuuya in scorching waves, even if it's only for one delirious, catastrophic moment outside the roles and enmity, before the entire world crashes down around you.
So you force your hands to release their white-knuckled grip on the rigid plates of his shoulders, sliding them up to frame his harsh, stubbled jawline instead. Chuuya makes a muffled sound of surprise against your pulse point, but doesn't pull away as you gently guide him to meet your softening gaze.
For a long, suspended heartbeat, you simply drink in the sight of him. Take in the smoky azure blazing with naked hunger and that terribly tender longing. The sharp angles of his brow and razor-edged cheekbones, the sinfully decadent curve of his kiss-swollen lips. The disheveled crimson spill of his hair across his forehead, the sheen of perspiration on his pale skin.
Then, with an aching, shuddering exhalation, you lean in and claim his mouth in the first gentle, devastating kiss of the night.
It's a slow, lingering thing - a delicate, searching brush of lips, a delicate exploration of the warm, wet heat of his mouth. A sensual dance that quickly builds into a scorching, searing thing. This time, you're the one to nip at his lush lower lip, to trace the sensitive seam with the tip of your tongue and draw a shivering moan from the depths of his throat. The hand fisted in your hair slackens, his grip becoming a caress instead. His other hand skates reverently over the curve of your waist, the slope of your hip, as if he's trying to commit every inch of your body to memory.
As you sink deeper into the addictive heat of Chuuya's mouth, as he swallows the needy sound that spills from you and tangles his tongue with yours in a slow, sensuous slide, the entire universe seems to contract down to the point where your bodies are pressed together.
Where the air is thick and heavy, the scent of leather and his cologne a potent mix that sends your head spinning and leaves you gasping.
When you finally part for air, when your trembling fingertips find the buttons of his vest and start working them free, his gaze sears into you like a brand. "Let me have you," he rasps raggedly, the sheer desperation in his voice making you shudder. "Please, let me..."
"Yes," you manage to whisper, the single word nearly lost in the maelstrom of sensation and need spiraling between you.
He curses roughly against the curve of your shoulder, his fingers flexing against the small of your back. "I don't want to hurt you. I never... not you."
"You won't." You're surprised at the steadiness of your own voice as you lean into the heated cradle of his body. "I trust you, Chuuya."
Chuuya goes utterly still against you, his word nearly lost in the maelstrom of sensation and need spiraling between you. There's a raw vulnerability in his gaze when he lifts his head to search your face, as if he's afraid he imagined the words falling from your lips. As if he can't quite believe this is happening.
"I trust you," you whisper again, pressing a kiss to his jaw, his throat, his temple. You don't care if the gesture is too soft, too intimate. Not when the ache in your chest only seems to deepen with each ragged inhalation you take.
"Please, Chuuya...I want this. I want you."
It's the truth, and you realize in that moment that you'd do anything, give him anything, if it meant chasing that bittersweet resignation from his expression. If it meant holding him close and keeping him safe, even for a single instant.
Chuuya shudders against you at your fervent confession, a low growl rising from his chest.
His fingers tangle in your hair, his eyes blazing with something that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. "Then I'm yours."
He claims your lips once more, the kiss searing and all-consuming, even as he reaches down to hook his hands beneath your thighs and hoist you effortlessly into his arms. With the ease of a man who spends every waking hour honing his physical prowess, he carries you across the room and settles you atop the wide expanse of his desk.
You gasp at the feeling of the polished wood beneath your bare skin, at the cool caress of the air as he steps back to swiftly shrug off his vest and unbutton his dress shirt. Even in the dim lighting, you can't help but drink in the sight of his pale skin, the sculpted ridges of his torso and abs, the tantalizing hint of the V-lines disappearing beneath the waistband of his slacks.
When you finally tear your gaze away from his exposed body to meet his eyes, Chuuya's lips curve into a smirk. "Enjoying the view, babydoll?"
Heat creeps up your neck, but you don't look away as you reach up to begin working the zipper on the back of your dress. "Maybe. It'd be easier to enjoy it more if you took the rest off too, though."
Chuuya's smirk widens into a grin, the wicked curl of his lips sending a new spike of heat lancing through you. "Whatever the lady wants," he purrs, popping the button on his slacks and letting the fabric slide down his hips.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs, the outline of his erection evident through the stretchy fabric. His heated stare is pinned on you like a physical weight, tracing the curves of your bared flesh as you tug the dress down and over your head.
A low, ragged sound spills from Chuuya's chest as he drinks in the sight of you perched before him in nothing but your lace bra and panties. You don't have a chance to feel the slightest bit of self-consciousness, however, because he's crowding against you almost instantly, his hands spanning the dip of your waist and his lips trailing a line of burning kisses along the curve of your neck, moving downward.
You feel Chuuya's soft lips press gently against your stomach, his kisses fluttering over the scars that mark your skin. The scars he put there himself, when he shot you what feels like a lifetime ago. His touch is tender now as his mouth grazes the raised lines, his breath warm on your bare flesh.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice thick with emotion. "I never wanted to hurt you." He looks up at you with repentant eyes, fingers tracing the edges of the scars with the lightest touch, as if afraid to cause you more pain. You know he regrets what he did, that guilt weighs heavily on him. Cupping his face, you guide his mouth back to yours, wanting to absolve him, needing him to know that you forgive him.
The kiss is slow and deep, and vou can feel every ounce of his regret, his pain. His hands move to your bra, unclasping it and pulling the straps down, baring your breasts.
You watch as his gaze darkens, the hunger returning, and you know his thoughts have drifted back to the present. To the need burning in both of you.
His lips travel downward, capturing one hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. Your fingers tangle in his hair, a moan falling from your lips. The scrape of his stubble against the sensitive skin only intensifies the sensation.
Chuuya's hand kneads and teases the other breast, his thumb flicking and teasing the taut peak. The wet heat of his mouth on your sensitive flesh, the friction of his stubble on your skin, it all sends waves of pleasure rolling through you, coiling in the pit of your stomach.
When his mouth moves to the other breast, his hand continues the sensual torment.
"Chuuya," you whimper, needing more, but knowing there's no rushing him. He's going to take his time, drive you to the brink. "Mmm," he hums, his lips moving over the curve of your breast and down the planes of your stomach. "Patience, babydoll. I've been fantasizing about what l'd do to you if I ever got you in my bed. And since that's not happening, this will have to do."
His mouth is warm on your inner thigh, his tongue and teeth nibbling the tender flesh there.
"So soft, so sweet," he murmurs, and then his mouth is on your core, the damp heat of his tongue dragging along your slit. "Oh god," you groan, hips lifting involuntarily off the desk. Chuuya's hands grasp your thighs, his strength keeping you from wriggling away from his wicked, talented mouth.
He chuckles darkly, and the vibration sends another pulse of pleasure through you. "No escaping, gorgeous. Not until l'm finished."
Finished? How will you survive that?
Your breath comes out in short pants as he continues his sensual assault, the strokes of his tongue and his fingers relentless. Just when you think you can't take anymore, the pressure and pleasure building to the point of overwhelming, his mouth finds the swollen bud of your clit.
You cry out, his name a breathless, reverent prayer falling from your lips.
"That's it," he croons, his words vibrating through you, making you arch into him. "Give it to me."
His tongue laves over you, his fingers stroking and teasing, until the wave crests, pleasure flooding through you, sending you careening over the edge. You could hear the loud, pornographic moan Chuuya let out as your juices spray against his mouth, the vibrations from his growls sending shivers down your spine.
"God, yes, baby. That's it," he praises, licking his lips and staring at you like a starved man presented with a feast. His lips curl into a wicked grin, and you feel your blood heat at the sight.
"But I'm not finished with you yet. I want to feel you come on my cock, feel that tight, hot pussy squeeze me."
The filthy words coming from Chuuya's beautiful mouth should disgust you, but they don't. They turn you on, make your body heat and clench, ready for more. Your breath hitches in anticipation, but Chuuya's not done teasing.
"Tell me," he purrs, "have you thought about me? Have you touched yourself, imagining my hands on you, my mouth on you?"
You don't answer, but your blush gives you away, and he lets out a low, husky chuckle.
"Oh, yes, I can see it in your eyes. I've thought about you, too. Touched myself, imagining your sweet, soft lips wrapped around my cock. I'd love to feel those pouty lips stretched around me. Would you like that, gorgeous? To swallow me whole, drink down every last drop?"
Your mouth waters, and the image fills your mind, making your sex clench and your mouth go dry. He chuckles again, a dark, seductive sound.
"Well, since we have no time for that now, l'll settle for being buried inside your sweet pussy. How's that?" Your eyes go wide as you look at him. He's massive, and the idea of him filling you, stretching you, makes you tremble with need.
"'m gonna take that as a yes," he drawls, the rough, gravelly tone of his voice making you shudder. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, and pushes them down his lean hips, freeing his thick, heavy cock. You can't help but stare. He's long and thick, his cock pulsing and twitching, pre-cum beading on the tip. He grips his shaft, stroking lazily, his eyes locked on yours. "Like what you see, babydoll?"
You lick your lips, and he groans, a tortured sound. "God, I want to feel that sinful mouth wrapped around my cock, but right now, I want to feel that sweet cunt."
He prowls towards you, and your legs spread instinctively, making room for him. You can feel your sex pulsing, the need for him to fill you, claim you, almost overwhelming.
He steps between your spread thighs, and leans in, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss, the taste of yourself on his lips driving you wild.
He breaks the kiss, and his mouth trails down your neck, over your shoulder, the rough scrape of his stubble and his soft, full lips making you writhe. His hand slides between your legs, and you feel his finger tease your entrance, testing how ready you are.
"Shit," he curses. "You're soaked. Dripping for me."
You're about to protest his teasing, but the words die on your lips as you feel his blunt head probing at your opening. Your eyes go wide, and he grins, a wolfish, predatory look.
"Ready for me, gorgeous?"
He doesn't wait for a response, thrusting his hips, sheathing himself in your slick heat in one long, smooth motion. He's so big, and the stretch burns, but the sensation of him filling you is delicious, the pleasure just on the edge of pain.
"Fuck," he groans, and he leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He stays there, buried deep, breathing harshly, for a moment, and then he pulls back, and thrusts into you again, setting a steady pace.
His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, and you know he'll leave marks, but you don't care. You want them.
"Look at me," he growls, and you comply, gazing up at him.
The fierce intensity of his gaze as he thrusts into you sends a shiver of pleasure up your spine.
"Touch yourself," he commands. "I want to feel you coming around my cock."
You slide a hand between your bodies, finding the slick nub of your clit, and begin stroking in time with his thrusts.
The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself spiraling towards climax.
"Chuuya," you moan, and he groans, the sound rumbling through you.
"Yeah, that's it, baby. Let go. Come for me." His words push you over the edge, and you scream his name, pleasure washing over vou in a crashing wave.
He continues to thrust, drawing out your orgasm, and then he stiffens, his hips slamming against yours, burying himself to the hilt, and you can feel his cock throb and pulse, his hot release filling you.
"God, I love you."
His words shock you, and your eyes go wide.
He blinks, and you can see the regret flash in his gaze, and he starts to pull back, to withdraw. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him close, refusing to let him go.
He's frozen, his expression unreadable, and then, he slumps, pressing his forehead to yours.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.
"Don't be," you murmur.
"You've held a place in my heart for longer than I probably realized.I wish I could say exactly when my feelings for you started, but the truth is they've been slowly blooming for ages without me fully recognizing it until now."
You don't say anything, because you can't.
There's a lump in your throat, and you can't speak past it. Instead, you hold him close, and you let him know, without words, that you care for him, too.
You don't know how long you stay like that, holding each other, but eventually, he pulls back, and you let him go. He pulls out of you, and the sensation of his seed dripping down your thighs is oddly erotic.
You watch as he pulls his boxer briefs up, and the sight of his lean, muscled form makes your pussy clench.
"Come here," he says, reaching for you, and you let him lift you into his arms. He carries you to the sofa and sits you down, the cushions soft beneath you. He takes a seat beside you, and pulls you against his chest, and you lay your head on his shoulder, his lips lingering against the crown of your head.
Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you breathe him in - smoke and spice and something uniquely Chuuya. Let it ground you in this moment, in the undeniable connection sparking between your bodies like a livewire.
There’s so much you want to say to him, but it's everything you can never say out loud. But here in the hushed stillness of Chuuya's secret haven, wrapped up in his solid warmth...you can almost pretend that it's enough. That this is enough.
Just for now. Just for tonight.
Chuuya's arms come up to enfold you, drawing you impossibly closer. One big hand splays across the small of your back while the other cradles the nape of your neck, gentle and protective, pulling you onto his lap. Like you are something unspeakably precious he wants to keep safe.
"Stay with me," he murmurs into your hair, low and entreating. "Just...stay."
You squeeze your eyes shut against the hot sting of tears, pain and guilt and wistful longing swelling up to choke you. But you ruthlessly tamp it down, lodging the messy tangle of emotions behind your ribs to examine later. When you're alone and it's safe to fall apart.
For now, you simply burrow deeper into Chuuya's embrace and nod once, decisive.
"Okay," you breath. A benediction and a promise. "Okay."
And as the two of you lay there, together in the cocoon of shadows and fairylights to a melody only you can hear...you let yourself surrender to the illusion. Let yourself imagine, just for a stolen heartbeat...
That this is real. That he is yours and you are his and nothing else matters.
That maybe, despite all the odds stacked against you...love can still bloom in even the most barren soil.
The spell endures long into the night, your quiet murmurs and shared laughter filling the air as you explore every intimate nook and cranny of Chuuya's office. Curled together on the battered leather sofa with fingers interlaced and pulses syncing, you talk until your throats are raw and your eyes gritty.
He regales you with stories of his misspent youth - of scuffles with local gangs and leaps across rooftops...all while you listen with rapt attention, drinking in every new glimpse behind the unflappable persona. In turn, you share carefully edited tales of your own childhood - the better, brighter parts that don't give too much away.
With every grin and eyeroll and gentle ribbing, the last of your walls come down brick by brick. Until all that remains is the undeniable truth of this soul-deep resonance binding you together across enemy lines. This inexplicable sense of coming home in the last place you ever expected to find it.
But of course...all illusions must eventually shatter. And this one meets a brutal end with the first gray fingers of dawn creeping across the horizon.
A shaft of watery light spears through the high windows, falling across your huddled forms in mocking admonition. Illuminating just how entangled you've become, limbs hopelessly enmeshed and faces mere inches apart on the shared pillow.
Chuuya is the first to stir, a furrow appearing between ginger brows as he blinks muzzily. Those piercing blue eyes slowly sharpen and widen as he registers your presence - and proximity. But rather than pull away, he simply drinks in the sight of you like a man stumbling across an oasis in the desert.
"Mornin'," he rasps, voice low and sleep-rough. A tiny smile tugs at one corner of his mouth, private and unbearably soft. "This is...not how I expected to wake up today."
A corresponding bloom of warmth unfurls behind your sternum, light and giddy. "That makes two of us," you whisper back conspiratorially. Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you reach out to trace the curve of his cheekbone with a tentative fingertip, marveling at the freedom to do so. "But I'm glad we did. Wake up together, that is."
Chuuya's eyes flutter shut at the innocent caress, a shaky exhale gusting past his lips. Catching your hand in his much larger one, he presses your palm flat over his thundering heart, holding it there like he never wants to let go.
"Me too," he confesses quietly, gaze dark and depthless as it roves over your face. There's something almost pained in his expression, a wistful sort of yearning that echoes through your own hollow bones. "I wish..."
But he cuts himself off with a brisk headshake, jaw firming. That's when your gaze catches on something glinting on the floor amidst your discarded clothing - the sleek, deadly outline of your gun. Reality slams back into focus as you remember your true mission, sent to assassinate this man, this infamous mafioso you've somehow ended up sleeping with.
Chuuya follows your line of sight, shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly as he makes the connection. You see realization filter across his expression - he knows you were sent to kill him. For a drawn-out moment, an electric tension crackles between you, brimming with unvoiced truths.
Rather than react with anger or fear, Chuuya simply holds your gaze steadily. There's an unfamiliar softness graven into the lines around his mouth and eyes as he gives a minute, solemn nod.
"I don’t care, gorgeous. I..." He breaks off, clearing his throat roughly. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?"
Your chest constricts painfully at the resignation in his tone, the blatant acceptance that he's sealed his own fate by allowing himself to become entangled with you. You open your mouth, an useless apology on your lips, but Chuuya cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head.
"Don't. Please, just...don't ruin this for me." His smile is wry but doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Let me pretend a little longer that you wanted me as much as I wanted you. That this didn't start as a lie."
The rawness in his voice is like a physical blow, leaving you floundering for breath. You can't tell him that he's right, that you did want him - want him still with a ferocity that terrifies you. Instead, you simply sit up and wordlessly hold your hand out in entreaty, throat too clogged with emotion to speak.
Chuuya's brows knit minutely, but then understanding blooms across his features. With the same care one would use to handle something infinitely precious yet fragile, he takes your proffered hand and guides you to straddle his lap. His large, calloused palms immediately find purchase on your waist, thumbs stroking over your hipbones with infinite tenderness.
For a long stretch, you simply hold one another's weighted gazes, peeling away every remaining barrier with each shuddering inhale. Chuuya's eyes are a kaleidoscope of emotion - yearning, resignation, and something softer that steals the breath from your lungs.
Then, almost as one, you're both leaning in until your foreheads rest flush together. His breath puffs warm and intimate against your parted lips as you simply breathe each other in, savoring this fleeting infinitesimal of connection before the outside world comes crashing back in.
When you finally do move, it's in perfect synchronicity - mouths slanting together in a kiss loaded with every unspent syllable, every aborted caress and aborted heartbeat. It's a messy, ardent thing, all tangled limbs and broken keening noises muffled between your joined mouths.
There's an undercurrent of finality and futility to it all, like two planets locked in their final orbits before terminal destruction. You pour every ounce of feeling you can't name into that scorching mess of tongue and teeth and desperation, trying to convey it all before the chance is torn from your grasp forever.
You aren't sure how long you stay like that, consuming each other in deep, convulsive swallows. By the time you finally break apart, you're both panting harshly, cheeks ruddy and lips swollen. Chuuya's hair is thoroughly mussed, eyes dark and hooded in a way that sends fresh ribbons of heat pooling low in your belly.
His pupils are blown wide, but his gaze is clear and searingly focused as he drags his thumb reverently along the plane of your cheekbone.
"Do it," he rasps, the words barely audible over the thundering of your pulse. "If you have to end this, then make it mean something. Put us both out of our misery, once and for all."
You suck in a sharp breath at the stark simplicity of his declaration. Can feel the truth of those words in your very marrow, stark and inescapable as a terminal diagnosis. There's no future for you beyond this moment, the two of you spinning endlessly around one another in a void while the inexorable machinations of the outside world slowly rend you asunder.
So you do the only thing you can - the only merciful thing left. Reaching behind you in one sinuous movement, your fingers close around the cold, unyielding steel of your gun where it lies discarded on the threadbare sheets.
Chuuya makes no move to stop you or defend himself, entire body lax and at peace as you bring the muzzle up to press firmly against his sternum. He merely watches you through those piercing blue eyes, lips quirking in a tiny, rueful smile.
"That's my girl," he murmurs, voice a ruined rasp of bittersweet devotion. He mutters to no one, voice cracking on the single syllable. "See you around...detective."
And with his end blessing still ringing in your ears, you pull the trigger.
The gunshot is deafening in the small room, the kickback bucking against your shoulder with vicious force. You watch with a sort of detached horror as Chuuya's head rocks back, eyes blowing wide for one final endless moment before his head crumples back onto the couch.
A thin line of crimson immediately begins trickling from the corner of his slack mouth, hot arterial blood already seeping out to stain the leather beneath him in an ever-widening blossom of scarlet. But his expression is one of perfect tranquility, the furrow between his brows smoothed away and those blue, blue eyes frozen in an expression of stunned acceptance.
It's over for him. You remain frozen for what feels like an eternity, simply staring at the body of the man you killed - the man you loved, no matter how briefly or disastrously. Then, with a strange sense of calm settling over you, you turn the gun on yourself.
"See you around...Chuuya,"
those who made it all the way down here, how’re you feeling?
( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)
#bsd smut#bsd x reader#bsd x reader smut#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs chuuya#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara#chuuya x reader smut
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you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…
i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!
AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️
Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader
Warnings | language; gun violence
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.
More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.
You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.
The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.
“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”
“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”
“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”
“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”
“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”
“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”
“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.
You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed.
He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.
“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”
“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice.
“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”
“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”
“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”
“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”
“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”
“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”
“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”
“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”
“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”
You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”
You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.
“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”
“Darlin’-”
“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”
Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father. Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.
“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”
“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”
“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”
“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”
“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”
“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday. She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”
“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”
“Hmm?”
“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.
“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”
“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”
“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”
You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.
But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy.
“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”
“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down.
“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”
“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.
“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”
“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”
“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”
“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”
“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d be enjoying this, “but I will.”
“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground.
It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming.
Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.
“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”
“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”
Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.
“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head.
“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”
“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”
“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”
“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”
He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately.
Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.
You took it without hesitation.
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout#fallout fic#fallout prime#walton goggins
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Essence
Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet.
This wasn’t the first time today.
In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning. You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you.
Or: an accident with a questionable substance leads to a new experiment.
Dottore/Female Reader. Accidental exposure to aphrodisiac; breeding kink towards the end, pwp. Available on AO3 here.
“Don’t move.”
You froze, acutely aware of the source of heat and muscle against your back as Dottore reached above you.
This wasn’t a new occurrence; every once in a while, either Dottore himself or a Segment needed to get into the cabinets above your workstation. Extra vial trays, pipettes, errant extra microscope slides, among other items. Things you used for blood and chemical analysis. You were used to the briefest moment of keeping your head down, front pressed against the edge of your workstation, and feeling Dottore’s heat against you.
Funny, you thought, when he always came across as indifferent to everything. The Segments were a few degrees warmer, no doubt due to their components. Their presence was akin to touching a hot pan out of the oven with nothing between your skin whereas Dottore, the prime origin point, was porcelain warmed by fresh tea.
Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet.
This wasn’t the first time today.
In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning. You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you.
You hadn’t caught a glimpse at the label but the contents hadn’t seemed harmful. Dottore, although not melting, was far from pleased. He barked to take better inventory of your workstation as your eyes traced the pink substance that soaked his hair, feathery mantle, and immaculate white coat.
He had since removed his formal trappings and appeared all the more graceful for it.
A breath tickled your scalp as he placed his free hand on your waist, holding you still.
The touch sent jolts through you, as if you were standing in a field during a thunderstorm. Dottore kept his hand there and you tried to keep your breath from hitching, his finger flexing occasionally. Was he testing whether you were ticklish?
His breathing was unnaturally slow in return, pressing against you further with every inhale.
“What are you looking for, Lord Harbinger?” you asked, neck craned low.
It was best to continue to work. Before you were samples of primordial water. The substance glistened in standing vials, each awaiting their next step.
You felt him shift forward and your hips met his properly. He had, quite effectively, sandwiched you between him and the counter. A dull yearning sat low in your belly and you doubled your efforts on the samples in front of you.
To say you did not find your supervisor attractive would be a lie; like most, you often wondered what lay beneath the bird-like mask, literally and metaphorically. The lower half of his face was charming, home to a well-shaped jaw and a set of lips that were, at times, distracting. The conversations held between you often led down other avenues. It was clear to you that few, if any, would ever be a match for him in how he saw the world.
The thought that crossed your mind was bold: someone like him did not need a matching piece, an opposite to dilute him. A mind like his needed the challenge of one who complemented his thought processes. More like a fine wine pairing rather than a Hydro slime dousing a flaming flower.
When Dottore didn’t respond, his body tense against you and hand tight on your waist, you spoke up. Was he ill?
“Lord Harbinger?”
You shifted in the hopes that your moving might break his thoughts. Dottore inhaled sharply and pushed you forward again, chest and hips pressing against you further. His other arm was still raised, as though he hadn’t quite finished in his search high above.
“I said: don’t move.”
The words were hissed against your ear and you felt the tip of his mask against your scalp. His chest rose and fell in harsh, stilted motions and you swore you heard him mutter something into your hand when he squeezed your waist again.
Against your backside, you now realized why, precisely, he’d requested your stillness. The dull pangs from earlier became aching throbs at the apex of your thighs. You pushed away the thoughts, reminding yourself biological reactions were simply part of being human. The position you were in was one many would envy.
“I cannot find the tincture that is usually kept here. But the longer I stay, the worse this problem will be,” Dottore whispered into your ear.
His voice was always so alluring and now it was one of the only parts you could focus on. Blood drained from your extremities, keen on flooding other parts of your body.
“What was in that vial, sir?”
“Cherubic sea hare venom and whopperflower nectar, stabilized by a single Agate gemstone, finely ground. All batches of it were purged. Or should have been.”
An interesting mixture, you mused, as Dottore’s raised arm came down and reached behind you. You heard a telltale click and then watched as he rested the familiar mask off to the side, next to your tray. When you went to turn your head and look over your shoulder, his now-free hand found your jaw and pulled your gaze back forward. Through his gloves, his touch felt feverish, scalding.
“Eye contact will make it worse. Do as I ask.”
His voice was tight, breathing ragged now, nose buried in your hair. Archons, you’d had fleeting thoughts of him but this was torture. Here he was, struggling against whatever he’d come into contact with while trying to work. All because of an accident that wouldn’t have occurred if you didn’t need to work exactly at this location. Fate was a cruel mistress but this was sheer misfortune for both of you.
“Those substances are hardly volatile on their own, sir,” you offered.
He always enjoyed discussing ideas and he encouraged an environment conducive to it among your peers. Distracting him might help.
You wanted to move your hips, as though friction would give you any kind of relief, but remained as still as possible. He wasn’t giving you much of a choice and the longer you stayed still, the more aware you became of everything else. You were acutely aware of your own wetness, your uniform pants already sticking to the apex of your thighs when you felt him twitch. His presence was overwhelming on a good day when there were several feet between you.
“The whopperflower nectar is a good base for any mixture but tends to result in disorientation and temperature changes depending on its source,” he said into your hair, his other hand falling to grip your waist. “Agate, of course, contains the power and passion of the pyro archon.”
His hands tightened, squeezing right at the junction of your hips.
“And the sea hare venom?”
This had to stop at some point, though, right? None of those substances ever left behind permanent effects. On their own, they were relatively harmless, but if synthesized together in the right dose, would…
Dottore nuzzled your hair and then worked his way down to your neck, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and the tender spot beneath your earlobe.
“Enhances one’s awareness of their partner’s needs and changes in pheromones. Along with an increased stamina.”
“Partner’s needs?”
Your heart pounded as it was but seemed to miss two beats at his wording. He was already specific and precise. Purposeful.
“This substance only works when the subjects already have an attraction to another individual, a pre-existing bias. It is similar to tunnel vision, an obsessive focus on the other with decreased inhibitions.”
You gasped as he pressed against you further, his hardened member against the curve of your ass, situated perfectly. Heat rose from your chest to your face as you finally put the pieces together and your own arousal caught up with you.
“And you, my dear, keep moving despite my warnings. Are you eager or were you contaminated as well?”
You stiffened at the realization that, lost in the headiness of it all, you’d been bucking against him the entire conversation. Your body had a mind of its own and your mouth ran dry.
“I—“
You knew you hadn’t gotten a drop on you. Somehow that felt all the more shameful. He needed help out of this situation and all you’d done was chase your own arousal, relished in the moment. Even if he walked away now, he would still likely require relief and release. Still be plagued with thoughts of you. The way forward was obvious, wasn’t it?
“I want to help, my lord. My mind is clear. Would it not be beneficial to…see the experiment through?”
The tiniest bit of tension seemed to ease as he flexed his fingers. Did he like that, you wondered, the way your skin sank beneath his fingers?
“The results might be promising. But I must warn you…”
Before you could formulate your next thought, Dottore’s hips pinned you in place as he pushed away the objects in front of you with little care. No sooner had the fleeting consideration for your samples crossed your mind, you felt open-mouthed kisses on your neck, hasty and hungry. You arched your back and leaned into him, closing your eyes and tilting your neck to give him better access.
“This will only be the first stage,” he whispered. “And there is no going back.”
You did not trust your vocal cords as he found a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, stifling a moan and keeping it in your throat. His hands remained flat against the surface of your work station, further pinning you, surrounding you. Dottore lifted his head from the curve of your neck long enough to reach out and drag back a pencil and a nearby sheet of paper.
He managed to scribble something in shorthand that you recognized as observations of his symptoms and a basic outline. You had suggested he treat it like an experiment, after all.
You felt his cock twitch again as his other hand freed itself from the surface to skim the edge of your uniform top. A low growl rippled through his chest and he paused only to pull off his gloves; as soon as he was free, the pencil was in his hand again and he was grazing the pads of his fingers over your stomach.
Every touch felt as if you were being held above a fire, the flames licking and searing but never leaving a trace. Your breath left your lips in short, staccato gasps and you shivered, relishing the soft jolts that ran through you.
He squeezed your hip again on occasion and his fingers dipped beneath the edge of your pants, tracing the lines where your clothes left their mark. The pressure behind you eased only enough for him to fit his hand between both of you and head lower, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass. A low moan rumbled behind you as his fingers delved a little further, skimming your outer lips. You were soaked, his touch gliding over you; you wriggled against him and felt his teeth skim your neck in warning.
“Eager indeed,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear. “I could already smell it but this is a pleasant surprise. Have you had thoughts of me, my dear? Have you fantasized about this?”
Your cheeks burned and Dottore chuckled, his fingers prodding your hot, soaked core once more before withdrawing and cupping your ass again. He obviously had, otherwise neither of you would be here in this predicament; after all, Dottore stated the substance only worked precisely because there was already a cognitive bias.
You whimpered as his hand let go of your plush flesh and reached around, fingertip hovering over your swollen clit. Dottore touched you just enough to cause a squeezing ache through you, your swollen walls demanding more.
“I have, Lord Harbinger,” you panted.
He made another notation as he withdrew his touch, the pencil snapping in his hand just as he finished the last flourish, the last of his restraint gone. He cast aside the remnants with a flick of his wrist and tugged your pants down just past your hips. Dottore didn’t bother to do more than unfasten his belt and free himself from the confines of his trousers, bare cock situated between your wet thighs.
The Harbinger pressed a hand to your back and pressed you forward, bending you over the surface, all the better to expose yourself to him. He leaned over you, sheltering you, as he aligned the head of his member with your entrance, running his length across your lips. A gasp left you at the sound of your slickness. Whatever shame you had the decency to feel was gone, replaced with only a blinding need to be full, complete.
He sank into you slowly, his cock stretching your swollen walls with each shallow thrust, his hands fisted so tight his knuckles were bone-white. You shuddered when he brushed past a particular spot every time, the edge already much closer than you expected. An icy jolt ran through your core, walls clenching from the pressure of being pressed against the table. Dottore hissed and his strokes grew long and full, nose buried in the crook of your neck as the sounds and scents of your coupling filled the air.
At least this lab was more secluded but you long since lost control of any thoughts about being caught.
“The timing could not have been better,” Dottore murmured, his pace increasing. “How perfect.”
You meant to ask but he drove into you harder, the edge of the table pushing into your diaphragm, preventing you from speaking. The impending bliss was already making you see stars and the lack of air was only enhancing the coil tightening deep inside. You stifled your moans, although perhaps there was no point, as teeth grazed your ear and neck. Hands reached for your hair, your waist, your hips as he continued to thrust, white hot heat searing across your vision as the pressure finally snapped. Dottore groaned as you fluttered around his cock, squeezing and pulsing.
His rhythm never changed through your aftershocks and he sent you over the edge twice more, legs quivering. All thoughts of documenting his observations seemed gone now as he sank his teeth into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. With a few quick snaps of his hips, Dottore shuddered atop you and you felt a shooting warmth, filling you to the brim and then some.
Dottore remained inside you, body covering yours. His hands massaged your hips as he pulled away from your neck enough to press his lips to the open skin and lick away the blood.
“Decreased inhibitions indeed…” you muttered, tongue heavy.
You tried to shift, or at least stand straight slightly. Your back was beginning to protest and between the man inside you and the table, catching your breath proved difficult. Dottore chuckled as he ground his hips into yours, his cock still hard and buried deep inside you.
“We’re far from done, my dear. Stage one is not over yet. This substance can take days to wear off. In that time, I’m certain I’ll obtain the results necessary to move right into stage two. Taking you on your back might improve the timeline, though…”
Your stomach sank as you managed to turn your head and cast a look through your peripheral over your shoulder. All you caught was a glimpse of a wide smile and glittering ruby eyes staring down at you.
“Oh, did I not mention that? It’s quite convenient that your body is ready, based on your pheromones; I cannot stop until we’ve guaranteed success.”
#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#il dottore#dottore#il dottore x female reader#dottore x female reader#x reader#x female reader#pwp#smut fic#tw: smut#cw: smut#smut#female reader#tw: breeding#cw: breeding#tw: aphrodisiac#cw: aphrodisiac#don't look at this too closely it needed to be out of my head
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Can you do another clingy reader x rhysriel
Likw, princess treatment, and maybe like babe give reader piggyback rides/carry her when her feet hurt and they do her hair and like they are also extremely clingy to her so it’s definitely not one-sided especially as he needs like so much reassurance which is perfect for reader because she also needs a lot of reassurance and has also a lot of like insecurities just like az but you know, so is rhysand so they are both extremely clingy with reader
You Are In Love
Rhysriel x reader
A/n: this is part 2 to attached at the hip. I hope you guys don’t find this too repetitive, I tried to make it different and add more details from previous hc’s.
Warnings: mentions of cock warming, sex, and oral fixation
You’ve always been a touchy clingy person. You need that reassurance from your mates that they are there with you, never leaving you. It had been a problem in pervious relationships that partners found very annoying
Rhys is the more touchy one and does more acts of service or you and Azriel
One of Rhys’s favorite acts of service/bonding things with you is doing your hair. He likes washing it and brushing it out for you since he is much gentler with it than you
One time he caught you tugging with the brush on a knot and he was horrified
“Why would you do that to your head, darling?” He asked in a chastising tone as he took the brush, sitting you at your vanity to finish your hair
Rhys can braid thanks to his mother and sister, so when he’s feeling adventurous and you’re sick of hair clips you have him do these lovely, intricate braids
When Rhys is done he always leaves a long, soft kiss on the back of your head and whispers, “Perfect, my darling.”
Rhys is always giving you piggy back rides and always finding an excuse to sweep you off your feet (Az doesn’t usually because of his wings and you don’t want to hurt him)
But Rhys will carry you any and everywhere, especially if your feet hurt after a night of dancing at Rita’s. Az carry’s your shoes while you cling to Rhys on the walk home
Azriel is more quality time with you
He likes having you near and will always find a reason to have his hands on you
You are very touchy with them and you make sure to show Azriel the most physical attention like rubbing lotion on his hands when they’re dry, letting him lay on your chest after a long day and you play with his hair. He practically purrs like a cat
Azriel likes to keep you on his lap, your touch keeps him grounded and helps his mind from running wild
When they’re both gone you feel so empty inside
You have no idea what to do with yourself
What, do they think you’re supposed to entertain yourself with? You want them to entertain you, give you things to do
If it’s just to the Hewn City or Windhaven you go with them. They hate taking you to Windhaven but you would rather die than be left alone in the house when they aren’t that far away
Even though they don’t like taking you around the camp you don’t let them tell you no. You attend meetings with Rhys and walk around holding hands. Rhys keeps you glued to his side until you get back to his mother’s old house
After care is so important for you (and them of course), especially if they were both rough with you. You just needed to know that they’d stay even though the three of you share a bed
Even though you each have your own spot in bed you always insist Rhys and Az basically share a pillow with you. If they’d let you, you would just lay across the two of them. They told you no because you would be uncomfortable and they don’t want to deal with a grumpy you in the morning
Feeling the need to be extremely close after a slow and sensual session where they poured all their love into you was also important to you
You just felt so much love you didn’t want to let go of it
What you want is for them to be stuck to you forever but you’ll take these moments where they’re holding you close, drifting off to sleep, making it feel like forever
Az and Rhys are always cautious when you want to cock warm them after sex. Especially when you’re about to fall asleep
You insist that you want it but they make sure you have a clear head before sliding back into you
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar reader fic#acotar reader imagine#acotar imagine#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel headcanon#azriel headcanons#rhysand x reader#rhysand x you#rhysand acotar#rhysand headcanons#rhysand fic#rhysand imagine#rhysand fanfic#rhysand#acotar rhysand#rhysriel#poly!rhysriel x reader#poly!rhysriel x you#poly!rhysriel
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Something New (18+)
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.
Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.
WC: 2.4k
A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)
“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.
“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.
“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.
“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.
The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.
When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.
“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”
You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.
“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.
“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.
After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.
“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.
“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.
“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.
“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.
“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.
“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.
“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.
“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”
“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.
“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”
She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.
“Let’s go in.”
“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.
“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.
“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.
You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.
You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.
You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.
You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.
“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.
“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.
Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.
You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.
“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.
You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.
“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”
She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”
“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.
Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.
“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.
“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.
“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.
You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.
“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.
“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.
You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.
“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.
She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.
You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.
“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.
You nod quickly at her.
“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.
She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#jflem#jessie fleming imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso smut#jessie fleming blurb#jessie fleming smut
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Most Wanted (Mafia Boss!Toji x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot)
"I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me."
*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK CONTAINS R*PE & NONCON SEXUAL ACTS. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS AND READ LIGHTLY.
Pairing: Toji Fushigiro x Self-Insert!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)
Synopsis: You’re a highly skilled hitwoman. You’ve been doing this for years–getting paid to take hits on the wealthy and corrupt at your agency’s order. You figure taking a hit on the renowned Tokyo mafia boss Toji Fushigiro won’t be any different. However, things take a terrifying turn for you, and your skills are put to the test when you go undercover as a dancer at his favorite club and give him a private dance. But instead of killing you, Toji takes it upon himself to punish you and show you what happens when you fuck with him.
Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+; Porn with Plot; Physical Fighting; Gun Play; Knife Play; Noncon/R*pe; Forced Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasm; Lap Dancing/Pole Dancing; Doggystyle; Spit Play; Degradation + Praise; Rough Sex; Choking; Hair Pulling; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Some Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Here you go lovely!! @curiouscutie143 I hope you & everyone other toji lovers enjoy this. I had so much fun writing this & I tried to make it as nasty as I could lol. I may write another mafia!toji thing in the future just cuz this shit was soooo fun. Enjoy! -Jazz
*********
“Peaches, you’re needed in the backrooms.”
You resist the urge to smile as you turn around from your seat at the bar, sipping on some water after your dance and sweet-talking a middle-aged bank broker into his pockets. It’s important to keep up the facade.
“Comin’,” you tell your coworker and turn to the broker who looks ready to dive into your cleavage.
“Sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” you sigh, acting apologetic. He frowns at you, making the wrinkles and lines in his face more evident. “But this shouldn’t take too long. Find me afterward?”
The broker puts his hand on yours, accidentally using the hand his gold marriage band sits on. “You’ve got it, baby,” he purrs. “I’ve got some dollars just waitin’ on ya.”
He gives you a wink before polishing off his whiskey and walking away from the bar, leaving you to breathe and collect your thoughts. You turn to the bottle girl, waving her down. “One shot of Patron, please!” you yell above the music blaring from the overhead speakers. She nods, scurrying to fetch you a much-needed shot. It will be the first alcoholic drink you’ve had since your shift started.
You suddenly hear a buzz from your right ear and instantly put your hand up against it under your hair. “V,” a gruff voice says into your earpiece. “Come in, V. It’s been 20 minutes since we last talked. Did you get him yet?”
You scan the upscale strip club pulsing with purple and red strobe lights and booming with activity: businessmen and regular-degular customers tossing money at the dancers on stage who spin around poles and do splits in their thongs and heels.
“Target was sighted five minutes earlier, sir,” you whisper into the earpiece given to you by your agency. “He is currently in the backrooms waiting for me. He came alone. He made eye contact with me ten minutes ago, so he may be asking for me.”
More like you made eye contact with him and had been since he walked in. He is impossible to miss with how tall and buff he is. His black V-neck tee stuck to his pectorals and abs while his jeans hung low on his hips.
You had expected he’d be flashier with his wealth by wearing obvious designer clothing, but you figured that he had to keep a low profile as well. Beneath the V-neck that hung from his neck, you could see the tattoos that roped over his chest just like his arms. The healed scar at the corner of his smirk as his green eyes scanned the place over told you that this was, indeed, your target.
He stood between two bodyguards in suits half his size, giving off an intimidating aura, especially with the guns at their hips. But you’d expect nothing less from Toji Fushigiro, Tokyo’s most notorious mafia boss.
He is powerful. He is wealthy. He is known throughout Tokyo and Japan for being the head of Tokyo’s infamous mafia gang, the spot being passed down by his father. He is also a criminal. White-collar crime, organized crime, drug trafficking––you name it, Toji does it.
He is also known for his scare tactics on those who owe him a debt. He’s held man over bridges, threatening to drop them in the murky waters below. He’s pistol-whipped. He’s choked. He’s stomped. He’s jumped guys in alleyways and left them for dead. He is a man of his word. If he tells you he’ll fuck you up if you don’t give him his money in a certain amount of time, he’ll do it.
He is the number one man current on your hitlist…and your agency’s. They knew it was a good idea to employ you, their top hitwoman, to Toji’s favorite club to take him out for good. Though he didn’t show up when you started at the club a couple of weeks ago, you knew it was only a matter of time until he showed up.
And now, he is. As soon as he was in the club, everyone’s eyes were on him. Dancers scurried to the pole and backstage to change into their best outfits to milk him out of his pockets. Bartenders and bottle girls quickly wiped down counters and took care of customers as quickly as possible so they could tend to him. Your manager barreled toward him with complimentary champagne and a spot in the VIP section.
As Toji walked with your manager, your eyes met across the room. They met again while he sat in the VIP section when he should’ve been watching a dancer twirl around the pole in front of him. Both times were fleeting, but they affected you completely. His green eyes, like mirrors to a forest, sent chills down your spine and made your stomach flip. His gaze was intense. Intimate. His eyes made it hard to relax or act like a normal dancer working her shift at the club.
He seemed to know what he was doing to you or he was sizing you up because he would simply smirk and sip on his whiskey on the rocks and puff on his cigar, his soft lips forming Os and blowing the smoke into the strobe-lit air. You can understand why so many women fell for him, but you aren’t one of them. The tiny gun strapped to your hip proves it.
Your real boss sighs in relief. “Excellent work,” he praises. “Unfortunately, we can’t see what you’re doing from over at headquarters and we’re still working on connecting the audio to hear what’s happening around you, so just fill us in on what you do next until then. All you have to do now is walk back there and complete the mission as we discussed.”
You toss an arm over the bar, stretching your coffin-shaped nails along the polished bar. “Of course,” you reply with a smirk. “Don’t I always?”
The bartender returns with your shot and you down it at once, relishing the burn and the way it loosened you right up. “I’ll keep you informed,” you say. “Just stay near the phone.”
“Be careful,” your boss says before the line cuts. You check your makeup in the bar before you get up from the bar and strut over to your beautiful, blonde coworker in her red lingerie and heels. “Hey, Yuki,” you greet her.
She smiles at you and guides you to the backrooms where the wealthier customers usually take the girls to get a dance…or something more. Sexual exchanges aren’t allowed, but the manager never complains if they bring in more money. You and Yuki peer down the hallway to the double doors of a private room where Toji’s bodyguards stand.
“Why the guards?” you ask, pretending to be confused. “Is the President here or somethin’?” Yuki turns you to face her, her eyes wide. “Even bigger,” she replies. “He’s the hot guy with the scar who comes in here often. He’s a mafia boss, apparently. Super hot, but very powerful. The bossman gave him his pick of any girl he wanted and he picked you.”
You do your best to hide your smirk. You knew you had him. “Me?” you ask breathlessly. “Why me?” Yuki shrugs, just as clueless. “Don’t know, but I was sent out to fetch you. He’s willin’ to pay double the amount of a regular lapdance, but he didn’t say if he wanted it topless, naked or not.” She gives you a worried look, furrowing her blonde brows. “You sure you up for it, hon?” she asks. “I know you’ve taken high rollers before, but he ain’t even a high roller! He’s beyond that!”
To sell it even more, you bite your lip, acting nervous but intrigued. “I can do it,” you reply. “Just hold my hand when you walk me in there.” Yuki obliges and squeezes your hand as you begin to walk toward the guards, heels clicking across the floor.
“Target is in sight,” you whisper into your earpiece, turning away from Yuki and putting your mouth in your arm to muffle your voice. “I’m walkin’ to the backrooms now where he’s located.”
“Excellent, V!” your boss says. “Just do it as we discussed. Don’t falter, don’t yield, and don’t lose focus.” The three rules of being a spy. You never forgot them. Finally, you come to the guards and Yuki smiles up at them. “I’m here with Peaches,” Yuki announces. “The girl Mr. Fushigiro asked for.”
You plaster a bright, charming smile on your face. It must work because the guards budge and step out of the way for you. One of them opens the door for you and Yuki, holding it. “Step in,” he orders. You thank him and scurry inside the dimly lit room with an included mini-bar, a single stripper pole, and leather lounging couches. Toji currently sits in one of them, legs spread and eyes hooded as he puffs on a blunt and sips on his drink.
His green eyes pierce into your very soul when he eyes you in the doorway. “Here she is, sir,” Yuki says. “Just as you requested. And she’s just as pretty as I told you she is.” She moves your hair out of your face, exposing your pretty false flashes, Fenty Beauty gloss, and accentuated features to the boss.
Toji hums, liking what he sees. “Yes, she is,” he agrees. “Tell your boss thanks. He can expect some good business out of me once the night is through.” Yuki nods and gives your arm a squeeze. “Good luck,” she whispers before heading off. The doors close and you are left alone with your hit.
Neither one of you moves toward the other, staying posted to your spots. Toji takes a puff on his blunt and lights taps it above the ashtray next to him. “Y’know, you’re mighty pretty up close,” he purrs. “I’ve been wonderin’ what you’d look like up close instead of across the room.”
You finally look at him, noticing how big he is even sitting down. “So you’ve been watchin’ me tonight?” you ask. He nods, his eyes trailing down your form. “I knew I hadn’t seen ya before,” he continues. “I come here often and I would’ve remembered seein’ a face and a rack like that.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Charmer, aren’t you?” you sarcastically question.
He smirks at your wittiness. He likes that bite in a woman. “When I wanna be, but you’ll have to forgive me; the liquor makes me bolder than I already am.” His tongue jets out to lick his lips. “But you’ve gotta give a guy credit for bein’ honest and that lil’ outfit don’t leave much to the imagination.”
You go to wrap your arms around yourself but then stop. You need to sell this and if you’re forced to stand here in a mini dress that barely covers your ass or titties with heels that could crush a bitch in front of your hit who also happens with me enticingly sexy, then so be it. Toji’s gaze softens somewhat, noticing your discomfort. “You are very beautiful, Peaches,” he genuinely says. “Is it okay if I use your name?”
“Thank you, Mr. Fushigiro,” you softly reply. “And no, it’s fine. It’s what I’m known as around here anyway. I started here five weeks ago.” He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “Call me Toji.”
“Toji,” you parrot, slowly striding towards the pole in the middle of the room, an overhead speaker playing soft R&B overhead. “You’re quite the man. The entire club seems to be in a frenzy over you.”
His smirk widens, proud and cocky. “They always are,” he chuckles. “Don’t know why. This place gets plenty of people bigger than me all the time, especially international celebs. I heard Drake was here not too long ago.” You give a dry “mm-hmm” as you grasp the pole. Toji takes that answer another way. “What, you don’t like Drake?” he snorts.
“He’s okay,” you reply, short and impatient. “So what are you here for? To talk or to watch me dance?” You wrap a hand around the pole and pop your hip out, waiting for him to give you an order.
“Depends.” He sits up, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “What are you willin’ to do tonight for me? ‘Cause we can just sit here and talk. I wouldn’t mind hearin’ that pretty voice all night.” His green eyes gleam with mirth and a small hint of lust.
“Definitely a charmer,” you chuckle. “That’s fine if you’re willin’ to pay, though we don’t have a rate for conversation.”
He laughs at this, the sound deep and raspy yet pleasant to the ear. He takes another puff on his blunt before he lowers it down onto the ashtray. “Then let’s cut to the chase,” he sniggers. “It’s $500 for a 10-minute dance, right? I want 20 minutes, so that would make…”
He begins to count on his fingers but then stops. “A lot,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably ask for you to strip though. Are you okay with that, Peaches?”
You feel something flip inside of you at the mention of all of that money and how passive he is about it. Any girl working here would do whatever he wanted for 20 minutes! “I’m a stripper,” you reply passively. “What else am I gonna do?”
Toji tsks, grimacing at you. “Damn, what kinda attitude is that?” he laughs. “A beauty like you should be more adamant about showin’ off her body. Can I offer you a drink to get you in the mood?” He nods at the mini bar overflowing with bottles of tequila, vodka, and liquor.
“I don’t drink on the job,” you reply. “Music helps.” You suddenly hear a buzz in your ear and then your boss’ gruff voice: “Give me the rundown, V,” he demands.
You want another drink?” you ask. You nod at Toji’s empty glass and he agrees, so you walk over to the bar. To him, you’re seemingly looking for a bottle of whiskey, bent down to look through the racks. “With the target now,” you whisper. “Just waiting for the right time to attack. Give me a second.”
Once the line goes dead, you walk back over to Toji and pour him a bottle. As you bend down, you give him an ample view of your titties much to his enjoyment. As you do, you slip the gun out of your dress and place it under the couch where only you can find it. Once done, you leave the bottle with him, and step back, hands on your hips. He sits back against the couch, preparing for the show. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’,” he purrs, his eyes filled with obvious lust and attraction.
With a slow song playing above and the lights dipping into an almost ominous red shade, you begin to move to the beat. You roll your hips, swaying them side to side and front to back, almost as if you’re grinding on Toji despite him being several feet away from you. You let the music take control of you as you grasp the pole and begin to grind against it, dipping low to wind your ass in his face.
You do a few tricks on the pole for him–jumping and spinning around it, your thighs wrapped tight around the metal pole; squatting and lifting up your dress to bounce your ass, etc.–before you turn to look at him over your shoulder, flipping your hair. Toji’s eyes are hooded and lustful, all from the weed, the whiskey, and the effect you’re having on him. Despite the situation, it feels good to have an attractive man ogle at your plump frame.
“Take off the dress,” he demands, a slight growl in his voice. You don’t turn to face him, instead still facing the wall as you carefully unzip the back of your dress. The thin piece of clothing falls off of your body, revealing all of your rolls, curves, and the matching glittery bra and thong set.
“Shit!” Toji hisses, ogling at your asscheeks in your glittery thong. “Your back don’t hurt carryin’ that around?”
You finally turn around and find him leaning forward, his hands clenching his thighs. “You don’t look like you’re ready,” you giggle, winding your hips and toying with your titties in their cups. “Did you talk too much big game, Toji?”
The boss looks like he can’t even speak, his scarred lips parted as he stares you down. “Goddamn,” he hisses. “How some horny fuck didn’t propose to you and steal you out of here yet is beyond me.”
You give a light, tittering laugh, smiling down at him. “Well, if someone did that, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He looks happy with that response. You then twist around and bend over for him, giving him a full view of your full, round, perfect ass. “Can you handle it, baby?” you purr. “Can you handle me?”
You quickly pop up and turn around, finding him shifting in his seat and gritting his jaw. “I should be askin’ you that,” he growls. “Come the fuck here.” Deciding not to tease him any longer, you strut over to him, feeling sexy and irresistible. It’s strange that the same man you were sent to kill is doing this to you.
His eyes have grown several shades darker, reminding you of the deepest, darkest parts of a jungle. “Dance for me,” he demands. “Not on the pole; on me.” He opens his legs wider for you and pats his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Though clients often get handsy when dancers give them lapdances here, you decide that it’s best to do as he says.
Plus, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t curious to feel him for yourself. So you place your hands on his thick, muscular highs and begin to roll your body before squatting down, popping up between his legs. You reach up to drag your palms and long nails down his chest, feeling up his abs and toned stomach. He allows it, staring down at you with a look that would make a nun blush.
You then stand up between his legs before turning around and lowering yourself down into his lap. “Shit,” he whispers, watching the way you work your ass along his lap and the jean-clad bulge that has begun to make an appearance. You twerk and bounce on top of him before he takes a drag of his blunt, blowing the air away from you. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks, his lips close to your ear now.
Your body grows hot from him being so close, the attraction ironically magnetic. Slowly, you shake your head and Toji chuckles, adoring your mix of cute and sexy. “C’mere.” You lean back and tilt your head up while he takes another puff of his blunt. He holds the marijuana smoke before puckering his lips up and leaning down as if to kiss you. Slowly, the smoke travels from his lips to yours in an indirect kiss that leaves you breathless and your head dizzy.
You can’t deny it: you’re wet. Your pussy has never been this wet for any man before…and he’s the enemy! Toji seems to feel it too judging by the hard-on you can feel pressing into your thigh. You shift onto his knee and begin grinding your ass back, doing your best to not grind your pussy against his thigh.
“So you got a name other than that stripper shit?” he randomly asks you. You are immediately taken out of your lustful haze, remembering why you’re here. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about personal shit,” you dryly reply. “I don’t give my real name out to men I don’t know.”
Then, for the first time tonight, Toji touches you. His big hand lowers onto your thigh and squeezes. You don’t try to move it but you are alarmed. “Oh, but you do know me, darlin’,” he replies, digging his fingers into your flesh. “And I know you, V.”
At the mention of your real name, you freeze. The world freezes with you, everything seeming to cease their existence including the music that continues to play overhead. But you don’t hear it. All you can hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your eardrums. Toji releases you and you quickly jump off of him, turning toward him.
He just sits there staring at you, a humorous smirk playing on his lips. The smile is no longer attractive to you anymore. Suddenly, you feel disoriented. You feel like you may vomit or drop to the floor in your heels. Your earpiece buzzes to life again in your ear. “V!” your boss calls. “We just got the audio working again. What’s happening?” He sounds panicked, just as much as you are.
Toji bares his pearly whites at you as he calmly reaches for his whiskey. “Ah, now them wheels are turnin’ in that pretty little head,” he chuckles. “You know, you dance almost as good as you lie. I can see why you were put here to go undercover.” He takes a sip and licks the remnants away from his top lip, still staring you down.
“Ain’t that right?” he asks and it feels like a snake has just silvered up your back and sunk its teeth in you, paralyzing you.
“Y/N, he knows!” your boss hisses. “Stand down! Don’t do anything stupid!” He continues to yell and scream at you about aborting the mission and telling you that someone will be there soon, but you can’t quite hear him. It’s like you’re underwater and he’s standing above ground, his voice muffled and murky.
For a few seconds that seem like a lifetime, you and Toji stare each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your body kicks into fight or flight, the freeze stage having already been awakened. Inisctively, you shift into fight mode. Quickly, you take the bottle of whiskey and bring it down towards Toji’s head, but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing.
You grunt, wincing at the pain of his grip. “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” he cackles. “Goin’ against your boss’ little rules just to take me out? How cute.”
With a wail of effort, you swing your other hand at his head but he catches that too. Counting on this, you bring your leg up and kick him hard in the groin. He immediately releases you and lurches forward, holding his junk, giving you a chance to grab your gun from under the couch.
“Don’t move,” you growl, cocking the gun at him. “You move and I’ll shoot.”
Toji, red in the face and panting, glares up at you. “Please,” he scoffs. “You act like you’re the first bitch that’s put a gun to my head.” Before you can blink, he is swinging the bottle at you. You duck which is a mistake because Toji uses that opening to tackle you to the ground. You struggle and growl, turning into an animal as he wrestles with you for your gun.
He ends up winning, flipping you over and pinning you down to the floor with his body. “Get off!” you scream, still wriggling around. “Get off me!” Click. The barrel of your gun presses to your temple. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you regret it,” he growls.
His fingers move your hair back away from your ear and pry the earpiece out of your ear. He snarls at it as if it’s nothing but a bug. “God, they made these things so much smaller now.” He stands up, keeping the gun on you, and stomps on the earpiece, breaking it. “Whoops!” he mockingly says. “They should still be able to find ya though. I don’t plan on movin’ ya to another location…if you don’t piss me off.”
The gun clicks again. “Turn around slowly,” he demands. Despite your reluctance to do so, you slowly turn around and face him, lying on your back with your own shit pointed at you as Toji stands above you. “How did you know?” you whisper.
He smirks, appearing like the Devil in your eyes. “It wasn’t hard, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Dancers don’t eye me up the way you were. You looked like you were out for blood, not dollars. Not to mention the gun I saw at your hip.” You flush, cursing yourself. You should’ve been smarter. Of course, he would know. He spends his days having people hunt him down.
His smirk fades, his expression darkening. “Who sent you?” he demands. “And don’t lie. You don’t wanna know what I do with liars.” The gun cocks, his finger trained on the trigger. You glare at him, hating his guts even more than you had before you met him. So you weakly confess. He guffaws, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, those guys? They’ve been after me for years!”
“You’re a criminal,” you hiss despite the gun in your face. “You only got this far because of you dippin’ your hands in crime and gettin’ blood on your fists. I’m here to stop you.”
Toji’s brows raise in shock though he’s intrigued by your stubbornness. He squats down in front of you, still pointing the gun at your head. “And how are you gonna do that, huh, little girl?” he asks.
Not even thinking, you hollow your lips and wallop a glob of spit in Toji’s handsome face before quickly turning over and scrambling to the door. However, Toji is just as fast and has his big, tatted arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You can’t elbow him anywhere because your arms are stuck in his, leaving you to kick and wriggle.
“Oooh, I love a feisty bitch,” he chuckles. “Makes it a lot more fun to break ‘em.”
He begins to walk with you over to a nearby wall and slams you against it, knocking the air out of your lungs. You find yourself pressed against the wall and him who is equally as hard and unmoving as the solid wall against your front.
He shoves the side of your face into the wall while he pins your arms behind your back, causing your muscles to explode with pain at being stretched back too far. “Get off!” you cry. “O-Ow, that hurts!”
Toji tugs on your arms again, emitting a weak whine of pain from you. “That’s what you get for fuckin’ with me,” he growls. “Now what should I do with you? Kill you? Leave your agency to find you here?” The gun once again presses against your temple, cold and unrelenting.
You squeeze your eyes shut, tears pushing back the ducks. You can’t beat this. You can’t fight this. “Do it,” you sob. “Just do it!” You go limp against him, waiting to feel that bullet penetrating your skull and for the void to come to collect you…but instead, Toji takes the gun away from you, leaving an indent on your temple. “No,” he says. “I’ve got a better idea.”
You open your eyes, confused but also scared. What else is he planning to do with you? Before you can answer, you hear the undeniable sounds of his zipper coming down and the clinking of his metal belt buckle. Your body instant seizes, fear flooding your insides.
“I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me. Tonight, babydoll, you’re mine. You don’t have a choice. You’re mine and I’m gonna show you what that means.”
With his belt finally in his hands, he trains the gun on you. “Put your hands against the wall and stick that ass out,” he demands, his voice void of all emotion. “Do it now.” Outnumbered and out of tricks, you do as he says, trembling as you do so.
“Bad girls like you need to be punished,” he says before the belt comes down hard onto your right asscheek. WHACK! The sharp sound of the leather hitting the soft, jiggly flesh of your ass penetrates the air. It feels like fire has licked your skin and your knees buckle at the pain. “Ow!” you cry out.
Toji cackles at your agony, finding enjoyment and cuteness in it. “What, that hurt?” he laughs. “You don’t like the pain? I’m sure a girl like you has taken plenty of worse things before.” He raises his arm and whips the same cheek twice.
WHACK! WHACK! You flinch at each sharp hit, each one becoming more painful than the last. “Hurts, don’t it?” he snickers. “Don’t you regret pullin’ that shit with me now, babydoll, hm?”
He then proceeds to whip your left cheek, not allowing you any time to recover or breathe.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! You bite your lip so hard that you nearly draw blood, the burning of your backside too much to bear. “S-Stop!” you whine. “Please stop!”
Toji’s big hands wrap around your mouth, covering it. “Don’t speak,” he whispers into your ear, his breath the scent of whiskey and mint. “You don’t get to speak. Just take it.” You have no choice but to do so as he wails on your ass again and again, the leather cracking like fire against your jiggly ass. “God, that recoil,” he groans. “I’m gonna enjoy my time with you, baby doll.”
You don’t answer, too busy holding back tears that have begun to push at your eye sockets. Toji finally stops and tosses his head back to laugh. “Are you cryin’?” he laughs in disbelief. “Damn, and all from some spankings? And here I thought you were this tough bitch.”
You burn with resentment and humiliation, but all of that is pushed aside when he forces you to stand up straight and tugs your arms behind your back. You begin to panic but don’t say anything as he tightens his belt around your wrists and locks the belt buckle around them. “Turn around,” he finally says.
Despite your tiny sobs, you do so and face him. His eyes are hooded and dark with obvious lust for you. He uses one big hand to force you onto your knees, right in front of his open fly and hard cock that you can see pressing against his designer briefs. “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about,” he growls. He points the gun at your face, specifically at your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on it.”
His expression, dark and chilling you to the bone, makes you feel as if you don’t have a choice..and not the loaded gun pressing to your lips. Swallowing hard, you shakily open your mouth and he slides the pistol in. The metal feels cold and hard in your mouth, making you cringe. “That’s it,” Toji chuckles. “Take that shit, baby. C’mon, don’t you wanna please me?”
Slowly, you begin to suck, hollowing your lips out against the gun. Though you tremble and shake, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine the gun as a hard, warm, throbbing cock instead. Toji moans as if you’re sucking on him, watching your tongue swirl along the barrel and your head bob.
“Fuck, baby doll,” he groans. “You’ve got such a mouth on ya.” He slides it in further, the metal scraping against your teeth, until he reaches your throat. You gag and try to pull away, but Toji grips the back of your head.
“Uh-uh, mama,” he snickers. “You don’t get to get outta this. C’mon, just open your throat and breathe through your nose. You can do it.” He continues to push and pull, the gun sliding in and out of your mouth, while you struggle to breathe. You can feel sweat pool under your pits and between your cleavage all from your fear. Toji’s finger isn’t on the trigger anymore, but it doesn’t matter. He could change that in a second.
So you suck and you slurp and you bob your head up and down like a good little slut, staring him into his eyes while spit drips from your lips. Finally satisfied, Toji pulls the gun out of your lips now coated in your saliva. “You fuckin’ slut,” he pants. “Now I need to try ya out for myself.”
He pockets the gun and, with one hand, pulls down his briefs. His big, long, throbbing, veiny, perfect-looking dick springs to life. It damn near hits you in the face, making you gasp. “Sorry, mama,” he chuckles. “He just likes you.”
He wraps a hand around his 12-inch dick, pumping it lewdly in your face. “So you finna stare at it or suck it?” he deadpans, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer or recover.
“W-Wait,” you stammer.
That’s all you get to say before his cock is pushing between your lips and into your mouth. He releases a moan when he first slides into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wet mouth, soft lips, and tongue wrapping around him. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to take him. His girthy dick stretches out your jaw and your throat as he pushes himself in deep.
“C’mon, babydoll,” he chuckles. “That can’t be all you can take of me.” He continues to push, filling your tongue and nostrils with the scent and taste of him. The walls of your throat have no choice but to accommodate his size though it burns and you gag as he begins to slowly yet roughly thrust into your mouth. “Maybe this will help ya out,” he says. Suddenly, he retrieves a pocket knife from his pocket and flicks it open.
Fear flares into your stomach, making you want to jump away, but his large hand keeps you locked down on his cock. He presses the knife to your throat, chuckling as he does. “Careful now,” he warns. “You lean too close and that pretty neck might get sliced. I just wanna encourage you to do a good job.” He grips your hair and wrenches it up to look at him. “And you will do a good job for me, won’t you?” he asks.
His tone makes it so you can’t refuse, so you say yes and allow him to force your head back down onto his cock before pulling it back. He does that for a while––pushing and pulling your head down onto his dick like you’re his toy while he uses your sloppy, wet mouth like it’s a fleshlight. “Fuck!” he shouts to the ceiling. “This fuckin’ mouth is heaven, baby. I hope your pussy is just as tight as your tight ass throat.”
You gargle and mumble on his cock, causing pleasurable vibrations to travel throughout his body and his heavy balls that drip with your saliva. He continues to fuck your face and ruin your makeup, marveling at how beautiful you look choking on his cock. “Look at you, you little slut,” he dreamily sighs. “Makeup all fucked up. Hair ruined. You’re just a little mess for me, aren’t ya?”
He slides his cock out of your throat and you take a grateful gulp of air, strands of your hair stuck to your wet lips and chin. He takes the knife and slides it along your chin, smirking down at you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you,” he murmurs. Before you can protest, he is picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder, and placing you on your stomach with your arms still tied behind you.
“Please!” you sob, beginning to cry again. Toji straddles your ass, one hand massaging the globes of fat in your thong while the other holds his knife. “Please what, baby?” he mockingly coos. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” You then feel the cool metal of the knife dragging up your spine, sending shivers down your spine. “Time to get your sexy ass out of these fuckin’ clothes,” he growls.
You flinch when you feel the knife drag up to your left shoulder where it cuts the bra strap. He does the same to your left one before positioning you onto your knees with your wrists slung over the couch arm. Your tits are now exposed, hanging like ripe, juicy fruit beneath you. Then off comes your thong with two swipes of the knife cutting through the thin straps. You sob helplessly as the cool air touches your sodden, wet pussy.
“Damn, baby!” Toji cackles. “Are you wet from all this? You naughty little girl.” His middle and forefingers gently probe your entrance and slide up and down your slit, dragging unwanted moans out of you. “I’m gonna have some fun with you,” he chuckles. “Make sure you never forget about me.”
He then bends you over the couch and proceeds to put his hot, wet, experienced mouth on your pussy while the knife stays pressed against your thigh. You whine at the feeling of his soft lips and tongue swirling along your clit and every sensitive part of you, opening your pussy up to more of him. He drowns in your pussy, pushing his face into it as far as he can and letting his tongue do all of the talking.
You can’t stop the moans and gasps that escape you. The pleasure is just too much and too good! What a shame that a man who is so good at eating kitty is the same man you were sent here to kill. “Toji,” you moan, using his name for the first time ever. “Please…please!”
Toji’s one hand massages and smacks your ass, becoming aoslutely obessed with it. “What do you need, babydoll?” he coos against your clit. “You need somethin’?” You nod helplessly though you have no clue what you need at this point. “Tell me you’re mine then,” he growls. “Say it and fuckin’ mean it. Say you’re my good little slut.”
You keep your lips clamped tight, not wanting to swallow your pride or give up that tiny part of you that hates him still. SPANK! Your ass stings from his assault on your ass, his hand no doubt leaving a handprint. “Say it!” he bellows.
At the blinding pain, pleasure, and delirium, you break. “I’m yours!” you sob. “I’m your good girl! Your good little slut! I’m everything you want me to be!”
Toji, pleased, presses soothing kisses to your burning asscheek. “Good girl,” he praises. “See how easy that was? Now you get your reward.” Suddenly, you feel his thick cock smack against your pussy once, twice, three times and then he is sliding home inside of you.
Your mouth goes slack and your eyes grow wide as he begins to rocks his hips into, allowing you to get used to him. He is big. You can feel him stretching out every part of your cunt as he sinks deeper into your velvety, wet walls. “Fuck,” he sighs, one hand clutching your hip. “Not bad, babydoll. Your pussy is definitely the best one I’ve fucked…so far.”
He begins to fuck you harder, faster, railing you as if this will be his last time doing so. Your moans and huffs of breath become louder and more intense the harder and deeper his cock plunges inside of you. “W-Wait!” you gasp. “Slow down! I can’t…can’t!”
Toji chuckles, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis as he fucks you. “Sorry, honey,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. You just sound so cute.”
Your thighs clench and your body writhes as he rails you, unable to take this deep dicking into the couch. You try to move away but the knife suddenly sliding against your throat stops you. “Uh-uh, babydoll,” he growls. “Don’t run from me. I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” He then pops his knee up, his foot up on the couch, and reaches a part inside of you that makes you feel unimaginable pleasure.
“Just take me like a good girl, okay?” he whispers. “You can do that for me if you wanna live.” You don’t have a choice in the matter, mostly because of the hold he has on your arms, pulling you back as drives himself forward again and again. The sound of your moans, his grunts, and the lewd plap, plap, plap as his balls swing against your overly-sensitive clit and his hips slam into your ass fill the air, drowned out by the music playing outside.
“Who would’ve thought,” Toji pants into your ear. “C.O.D.E.’s good little spy gettin’ her brains fucked out on a mission, huh? I bet they’d love to see this.” His free hand releases your arms and yanks on a handful of your hair. “I bet they’d love to see you full of me,” he growls. “Full of this dick and my cum.”
He presses the knife deeper into your throat, just enough for you to feel the sharp, jagged edge of the blade. “You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asks. “You gonna be a good slut and take all my cum too?”
“Please!” you whimper, losing your mind and all of your pride. “Please just make me cum! I’ll do whatever you want, Toji!” He takes the knife from your throat and replaces it with his hand, choking you as he fucks you stupid. “Then do it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ cum on this cock while I fill you up. Cum with me now!”
“Ah, ah, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” you deliriously sob as he continues to pound into you. “I’m gonna…gonna–!”
You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy has finally reached its limit and explodes all over him, your walls squeezing around him and your clit shuddering. You reaching your peak triggers Toji and he grips your throat and ass as he comes to a still, his entire body tensing. “Fuck!” he bellows, cumming deep, deep, deep inside of you.
You gasp as you feel a rush of warm liquid flood into your pussy while you gush all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He fills you to the brim, giving you so much that it has no choice but to trickle down your thighs. He doesn’t immediately pull out though––he continues to fuck you, albeit slowly and sloppily, before giving your tit one feeble squeeze and finally pulling out of you.
You weakly moan at the feeling of being empty yet used, your pussy twitching and aching. “Mmm, now look at that,” he sighs dreamily, staring at your cum-soaked cunt. “Now that’s a properly fucked pussy if I do say so myself.” He takes a handful of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not bad, babydoll.”
You don’t respond, too weak and too tired to do so. You’re too tired to even feel any amount of disgust for him and shame in yourself for failing the mission and enjoying the sex. “Let’s get this off of you,” Toji says, his hands unbuckling the belt from your wrists. “I’m gon’ need it for myself, anyway.” He releases your wrists and lets you lay on the couch, panting and coated in sweat.
Your makeup and hair are ruined. Your underwear is in tatters. You feel used and fucked-out. You can only stare at Toji as he quickly gets dressed and straightens out his clothes, his cock still covered in you. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve gotta go before your people get here.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “But gimme a call since I’m sure you can find that out. Maybe we can do this again.”
He then moves to the extra bathroom behind the couch and retrieves a robe which he covers you with. “See?” he chuckles. “I ain’t that big of an asshole.” He presses a kiss to your lips before bending down to pick up your thong. “Thanks for this,” he says, dangling it in front of you. “And the dance. I’ll cherish both forever.”
You don’t say anything, even as you watch him leave, taking your thong and your dignity with you.
Then you are alone. At some point, you find the strength to stand up and wobble to the bathroom where you take a hot shower, washing the scent of sex and cum off of you. When you return, dressed in your robe, the door busts in, and your boss and fellow spies enter the room, guns drawn and masks on their faces.
“V!” your boss shouts, instantly dropping his weapon and running to you. His eyes widen at your state, looking for any bruises or scars. There are none…that are physical, anyway. “V, what happened?” he asks.
And as the events of tonight come flooding back to you at full speed, you muster up the most believable lie you can, clutching your robe closed:
“He overpowered me.”
#black fanfic writer#smutty smut#my works#black coded reader#black writers#my fic shit#jjk smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x black reader#toxic relationship#toji x self insert
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Want to be a better woman? Follow these easy steps:
1. Learn your place
2. Get dumber
3. Be easy to use
4. Tend to your owner's needs
5. Degrade yourself for him
As usual the first on is the most important one. To understand what you need to do, you need to understand what your role is. To illustrate it best, I'll just say that a man can do almost everything you can, and better. What he needs you for are your holes, because women are the best thing when it comes to releasing sexual tension.
That's right! You are just something we can stick our dicks into. This may not seem like much but is a very important role!
As I have said, men are just better than you at everything. This includes thinking. Women body spend more energy on sustaining their tits and producing pussy juice than on thinking. This is why you should stop thinking and just let him take the lead. Any important decision needs to be made? Your man will know what to do.
This may seem strange at first, but it is only natural! Evolution gave you boobs so you can find a man that will do the thinking for you.
With that out of the way comes the third point - ease of use. As I've already established, you only have one role. When you stop thinking about silly things like work, you can focus on making yourself available. Wear skirts and no panties, since that way your holes are easily available. Don't wear bras - they make your tits hard to grab. If you have a free moment, edge yourself, so that your cunt will make decisions, not your stupid silly brain. Clean your ass, because if someone wants to use it, you have to be prepared.
If you think this isn't proper behavior, then, first of all, why are you still thinking? Second of all, how can this not be proper, if that helps you fulfill your role?
Next is caring about your owner. Make sure he has everything he needs. This is different for every Sir. At first it will be hard, but after a while you'll learn to anticipate most things he wants. There are some universal things though! You have to keep his balls empty. If his cock is hard, your role is to make him cum, however he needs. Sometimes it will mean sucking him off, sometimes offering you pussy or asshole. Listen to what he tells you, and you'll be a nice bimbo!
The last thing is connected to the first one. See how smart is it? A dumb woman like you would never figure it out! Remind your owner that you know your place. Show him that you understand yohr role, by degrading yourself often. You did something wrong? Say that you're such a stupid whore. Offer your body as a way of saying sorry! Ask him to punish you.
Remember that you are his, born to satisfy men. As long as you have in mind, even the most mundane chores and thorough usage of your holes will fill you with satisfaction!
If this seems counterintuitive, think about your man. He is better than you.
I hope it helps all the stupid whores here! If you have any questions or can't understand something, I can explain it again with examples. Just remember: you have a role!
#fr33use#corruption kink#degrading k1nk#dumb slvt#brainwashing#degradation k1nk#humiliation kink#stupid slvt#dumb wh0re#abuse k1nk#free use toy#dumbification#bimbo training#bimboification#dumbimbofication#patriarchy kink#serve the patriarchy#free use slvt
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https://www.tumblr.com/twistedwonderlandimaginesblog/747760908602900480/heeeeeyyy-so-ive-been-reading-some-of-the-so-hcs?source=share
Wait this was actually so cute 😭✨️ Would it be okay to ask for a similar prompt with Leona and Ruggie and their s/o's?
Leona Kingscholar:
Leona has always thought it silly to judge an opponent from the outside, even if he had to acknowledge that was how the world worked. He knew them being smaller might have a disadvantage visually but it could also help by catching future opponents off-guard, making them regret their decision before it's too late. He cared most about his kid’s keeping a sharp mind, something that wasn’t correlated with the size of their body or their muscles. It does irritate him that there are whispers about his ‘runt’ and it’s quickly known to not utter a word about it anywhere he might be in earshot.
Leona isn’t the best at consoling, normally wanting his kid to keep their head held high to show their insults weren’t bothering them. They were royalty, at least, a status most of those bullies didn’t have. And even if they were a fellow royal, he could bet they were ten times as smart as someone who could be boiled down to a spoiled rich kid.
Ruggie Bucchi:
Ruggie has also always been ‘the little guy’. He didn’t get taken advantage of because he attached himself to those with power, running errands for them and in exchange earning their protection (which was normally unintentional). There had always been a secret dangerous side to him as well, as he needed a backup plan for when he got cornered, so he’d pass this knowledge onto his child. There was always a way to make things head in your favor even if you didn’t have all the muscle, and in the end, there would always be someone bigger, making adapting to the environment the best skill to focus on.
Ruggie doesn’t think he should let it bother him, but normally admitting you are what the bully is saying throws them off. So what if he’s shorter and smaller than them? What’s their point? It’s a little harder if they end up in Savanaclaw’s dorm full of athletic students but Ruggie believed they could prove themselves by other means. There’s always more than one way to solve a problem, after all.
#Twisted Wonderland#TWST#Twisted Wonderland Imagines#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#TWST Imagines#TWST x Reader#Leona Kingscholar#Ruggie Bucchi#Leona Kingscholar x Reader#Ruggie Bucchi x Reader
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Immediate Writer's Block
Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:
constant-state-of-self-discovery
Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol
I do have some advice on this!
I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.
An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.
Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.
And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.
So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.
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How to buy K merch in the Year 2024
I got several asks about this so rather than do each individually, I’ve decided to just make one big How to Buy K Merch in the Year 2024 post. I’m going to skip over the more obvious western sites like eBay and focus more on Japanese sites here. Because there hasn’t been much new K merch in some time keep in mind that most of what you will be looking for is secondhand, which means availability will vary.
Shopping Services
For some of these sites you will need a shopping service, so we’ll start there. This is by no means a comprehensive list of available shopping services, just ones I’ve used and liked.
FromJapan - This one is very straightforward — copy and paste the url of the item you want into their search bar. For anything in certain sites like Rakuten this will pull up a page that will give you the item and its price in your currency and you can just click add to cart. For other sites you may need to request a price quote, there’s a small form to fill out and they’ll get back to you on if they can order it. Timing depends on when you make the request. The nice thing about FromJapan is they will hold items for you for 45 days, so you can collect multiple purchases from multiple sites over time and have them all shipped at once. The bad side is that after 45 days they will discard your items, so keep an eye on when your oldest item arrived (you can see how long it’s been at their warehouse on your account page, and they will email you as the deadline gets close too).
Treasure Japan - Treasure Japan is a much smaller service than the others on this list but also the one I’ve used the longest. Being a smaller service means they tend to be more able to purchase items that might have seller restrictions, particularly from places like Mercari. Some listings when pasted into other shopping service sites will have a ‘cannot purchase from this seller’ warning, because some sellers don’t want to deal with shopping services. I haven’t had much trouble with this merchandise-wise, but when I’ve run into it with j-fashion Treasure Japan has been able to order when the bigger services couldn’t. Their site is set up so you will input different sites in different sections, there’s one for auction, one for ‘flea market’ (this will be places like Mercari) and one for shopping sites.
Buyee/Tenso - Buyee is a shopping service, Tenso is a forwarding service. They’re owned by the same parent company but are separate sites and you’ll need a separate account for each. Buyee is directly integrated with some sites like Mercari and Yahoo Japan, you can put in the url into their search bar and get a listing that you can buy immediately. Like FromJapan, any sites outside of the ones they’re integrated into will require you to request a quote (I found this more difficult with Buyee than FromJapan, personally) and they will sometimes be unable to purchase items. They will hold your items for 30 days at no charge, and you can request to consolidate packages for shipping.
Tenso, as I said above, is a forwarding service and somewhat more complicated. Basically when you sign up they will give you a Japanese address (presumably one of their warehouses) and you can then buy directly from Japanese websites, inputting the address you were given in the address field and paying with your own credit card. The items will be shipped to Tenso and from there you can have them sent to you. Obviously this is more complicated than a shopping service. I’ve used it mainly for things that didn’t involve an item being shipped (this is how I signed up for Fan Clan back in the day, for example, though my lottery goods were sent via Tenso too) or sites that require you to sign up to purchase from. I wouldn’t recommend it for any marketplace type site unless you’re fluent in Japanese, since sellers on those sites may try to communicate with you.
Stores
AmiAmi (no shopping service needed) - AmiAmi is mainly for new goods but I’ll mention it here anyway, in case K ever gets more merch. AmiAmi usually sells out on preorders, you place your order and they will let you know when the item arrives. You pay at that time. They do sometimes get used merch though so you can keep an eye out there, sometimes there will be decent deals on items that only have small flaws like the box being damaged.
Amazon Japan (may or may not need a shopping service) - Did you know overseas people can buy from Amazon Japan? You do now! You will need to make a new account, even if you have an Amazon account in your country. Whether you need a shopping service or not depends on the item. Anything sold directly by the company will likely not need a shopping service — the majority of my K manga and the stage plays were all bought directly from here, and when I was supplying raws for Countdown and LSW I was buying the magazines from here as well (I’ve also used it for Pokémon plushies and sewing books). If the item is being sold by a third party seller though you will likely need a shopping service. The site will tell you when you try to check out.
Surugaya EN (no shopping service required)/ Surugaya JP (shopping service required) - This is a secondhand shop and a great place to find merch. The main difference between the English site and the Japanese one is that the Japanese site has a larger selection (particularly doujinshi, and even more particularly spicy doujinshi). The English site periodically has free shipping sales so keep an eye out. Surugaya also has physical stores and will sometimes share merch between the store and the site so keep that in mind too, I have had items canceled before because they sold out in store and the listing hadn’t been updated yet.
Mandarake (no shopping service needed) - Another secondhand shop similar to Surugaya. I have not actually purchased from them myself and am not fond of their interface but I know people who have bought things from here. Like Surugaya they share stock with physical stores so something you want can sell out even after you’ve purchased.
Lashinbang (shoppng service required) - More secondhand shops. Lashinbang is rather small though so they don't always have much stuff, at least not for K.
CDJapan (no shopping service needed) - This is also better for new merch than secondhand but still worth a mention. I’ve found their prices tend to be worse than a lot of other stores though, this is more of a last resort for me.
Otaku Republic/Goods Republic (no shopping service needed) - Otaku sells doujinshi, Goods sells merch. The main draw is that these two are easy to search if you’re uncomfortable dealing with Japanese sites. I haven’t used them in quite a while but when I was buying from them they would send me free gifts with every purchase (my S4 cup came from them, as well as a bunch of clear file folders that I didn’t take pictures of because they’re being used as sewing pattern storage right now). The main downside is that while shipping is free over $50 they massively mark up the base prices to make up for it. I eventually stopped using this site because the shopping service was cheaper even with shipping and fees, you are paying for convenience. A lot of their ‘inventory’ is just listings from other sites including Surugaya, so check there first.
GoraShop (shopping service required) - This is Gora’s direct bookshop! They only have the season novelizations and Idol K books right now, as well as some Ayaka stuff.
Kinkurido (shopping service required) - This is the King Amusement Creative shop. All Memories was sold through this shop but is currently sold out, if they ever restock Gora will likely announce it on their Twitter. They do have some other small K goods available, including some CDs and artbooks (and Sarumi body pillows).
Marketplaces
Mercari Japan (Shopping service needed) - If you’ve ever used the English version of Mercari, here it is again but Japanese edition. You can find a lot of good used pieces here but prices are set by the individual seller so be wary of overpaying the first thing you find. Be sure to use a translator to look at the description in case you're buying a damaged item. Sometimes shopping services can try to negotiate the prices if you ask.
Yahoo Japan Auctions (shopping service needed) - Similarly as above, if you’re familiar with eBay this is fundamentally the same thing. Some shopping services will allow you to place last minute ‘sniper’ bids, and most will let you set a maximum bid and keep bidding on your behalf until that max is reached.
Shopping tips and things to know
The good news about buying from Japan right now: the yen is weak, so you can get deals! In the US, anyway. This may depend on your country so if you’re unsure on the exchange rate you can google “[your country’s currency] to yen exchange rate” and it should give you an approximate.
The bad news: shipping is killer. Keep that in mind, especially if you’re buying heavy items like bags or shoes (yes, K has those, there are several SuperGroupies collabs. If you want a S4 purse or Yata Misaki shoes keep in mind you will probably be paying through the nose for shipping). For the European types, you may have additional taxes too so be aware of your country’s import laws. Ditto when it comes to customs. For my fellow Americans, I have never had a customs issue even when buying fairly pricey dresses so you’re probably okay on that end but I can’t speak for other countries.
Character tax is real. Basically, more popular characters will likely have more expensive merch because there’s more demand — for example, Fushimi and Yata merch tends to be more expensive than, say, Silvers merch. Keychains and pins are usually cheaper than larger items like figures and standees either way though.
Most of the Japanese sites will need to be searched in Japanese. For character names, I suggest going to the K wiki and grabbing your favorite character’s name in kanji and using that to search. For pairings, while marketplace sites like Mercari may have listings under the pairing name sites like Suruga will use the two individual character names so you’ll want to search under that. If your browser doesn’t have an add on to translate that’s very helpful to grab in order to make your experience easier. For K itself, in general this is really the downside of having a favorite series with a one letter title. However, using ‘Missing Kings,’ ‘Return of Kings’ or ‘Seven Stories’ can be helpful here but will likely mostly turn up merch made for that specific season/movie.
If you want to look up something specific like a plush but don't know the Japanese word for it, Jisho can be helpful. Look up the kanji for the word you want and then copy-paste into your search. The downside is sometimes there are multiple words for the same thing or a word may be in kanji but people use the hiragana more often and you won't know, but it should get you on the right path to start.
On buying spicier goods: most shopping services have it in their terms that they will not buy adult items. In practice, however, this depends. I've had FromJapan refuse to buy perfectly tame G-rated doujinshi. Treasure Japan has in their terms that they won't ship adult items but like 70% of my doujinshi collection was purchased through them, with an R18 Sarumi book purchased as recently as last year. I've heard Buyee also states that they won't ship adult items but it's hit or miss if they turn down your order, and if you buy directly using Tenso they likely won't even open your package. Keep your country's laws regarding importing in mind, especially if you think customs might be likely to poke around in your package. Don't get in legal trouble just for spicy drawings.
Buying secondhand is a marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes it takes a while for what you want to show up, so just keep looking! When I was collecting my nui set I literally bookmarked the search for “K ぬい” (nui) on Mercari and checked every day or so, which may be more obsessive than you want but it does get the job done (I was molded in the merch search mines of trying to find lolita dresses that haven’t been sold for 10 years, so I’m used to this kind of thing). If you keep looking you may even find things you didn't know you needed, like this Sarumi bedsheet I forgot to add into my collection post.
Happy hunting!
#k project#Talking K#helpful guides#there are other stores I may have forgotten but this is most of what I use#if anyone has alternate sites feel free to put those in the comments#the good news is since K is less popular now the merch tends to be cheaper but the bad news is it's harder to find#you just have to keep looking#I can't believe I forgot my Sarumi bedsheet#it's because this is an older picture I'm not using it right now
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single mom x price; PART 4
you try to stay away from john. and, surprisingly so, it turns out that it's not an easy job.
AO3 VERSION
part 1 || part 2 || part 3
You know that you usually keep your promises.
When Janice had to leave for a week and asked you to water her flowers religiously three times a day, you didn’t skip any watering. You stood there, cursed multiple times under your breath with a more or less excited kid on your hip, but you did it. Even if your son was a pain in the ass and tried to destroy every little plant that Janice had because watering three times a day was stupid for him.
When Cassie’s mom came to you, telling you she’s pregnant, scared of having kids in her forties, you were the one that drove her to the abortion clinic and promised not to tell anyone. Because she was terrified of doing this alone, not to mention asking someone else.
Information like this in a small town spreads like weeds in the garden, no matter how hard you try, and you knew it too well. So, as her best pick, you tried to take it like a hero.
And you didn’t even flinch when you heard that they thought you were the one that got rid of the baby, not her. You just stared blankly, acting as calm as ever, even if their stares were too much to bear when you shopped, talked with others. Easy enough, they watched you like hawks.
Eventually, it all calmed down, like the weather after the storm. Everyone started living their own lives again, got invested into another drama, forgetting the situation with abortion clinic. And, Cassie’s mom was eternally grateful for that. Probably still is.
You’re known for keeping your promises and getting the job done, so you really can’t be surprised when the neighbors choose you to be responsible for this year’s neighbors BBQ, something that this town is obsessed with, when it gets warmer. Can’t really blame them, as the town is dead during the winter months.
What is surprising in this situation is the fact that you have to break a promise—but the promise that you made to yourself.
Just because you’re in a committee with John Price. John Price that you wanted to desperately avoid for some time, but right now, he’s looking down at you with a smile, patting your back with encouragement.
“We’re gonna have so much fun with this,” he murmurs, right to your ear. It’s nothing naughty, but it’s enough to make your whole body feel hot, like your body is full of lava. He knows you can’t say no to organizing this BBQ, and if you would, he’d find a way to get you back on board.
And, he for sure noticed that you spoke to him less lately. As you learned, he’s not really a fan of that behavior, so when you go home, you have only one thought in your mind: you’re terrible at keeping distance from John Price. It’s either a terrible coincidence, or he has the help of God to make you run into him every time.
Ironically, the second option sounds more real than the first one, even if it should be the other way.
Planning with him feels easy, though. He’s quick to make a whole concept of the party with you, where exactly the BBQ needs to take place, what can be brought so it will be better than the years before. He’s ambitious enough that he makes small jabs towards the neighbors that hosted years before, saying something about not having a sense of style and stuff that shouldn’t make you laugh, but they do.
When it comes to the practical stuff of the job, it’s a bit different; John doesn’t let you touch anything or lift something by yourself, god forbid you try to say that you’re going to help him with moving things. The irritation because of it is enough for you to try to confront him, but he just shushes you. He says something about having “the boys” for that, and you’re not invited to the physical part of the job.
However, you asking him for help? He seems to love the fact that you need him.
When you are trying out the recipes, he’s magically around you. Appears in the most random moments, just to annoy you a little, whisper some encouraging words, like “you got it, love”. He’s more than eager to try out the food, always licking the spoon clean with such focus, like it was a military job, not his neighbor asking him for his opinion on BBQ food. Not only it makes you satisfied, but flustered as well.
Whatever you want to say to him about it, you forget it right away. You’re far too gone in his praises, slight suggestions, and so much more that has you wondering if this man is just nice, or he really means it. Because you truly believe that he does; no one could fake the glimmer in their eyes, lips twitching in a playful manner and this damn look of approval, when you do the right thing. When you think about it, you could easily get used to it if it would mean he’d be around more.
Hell, you never liked cooking that much. It was mostly something to do, so you won’t starve. With John? With John it feels like you want him to admire your food, so you try as thrice as you did in the past.
What is also satisfying in this whole “planning” thing, you’re the commander if it comes down to decorations—you tell him if something needs to go to the left side, if it’s in the right place, or maybe it doesn’t fit the vibe at all. It's good fun for you, a lot of bickering with John, a lot of him actually respecting what you have to say. Sheer contrast to the contact that you normally had with other men, and the dad of your son. Constant problems, give me this, give me that, nothing really came from them. And if it did, you had to ask for it.
And John? John is just the epitome of a perfect man. The kind one that you like seeing on the street because he’s helpful and considerate. Always willing to help you, no matter what the hour is, or what the problem is, like—
Like a real husband, you think, trying to push that thought away the second you see that you’re losing yourself a little too much in it. Just because someone is nice to you, it doesn’t mean that they have a romantic interest in you.
John isn’t helpful with making your thoughts go away; he’s so close to you, like he doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. At some point, you think that he has to do this on purpose. It’s not possible that he’s like this with everyone—so touchy, manhandling every time someone stands in his way, whispering little “I need you to move,” before moving the person somewhere else. It’s unnecessary, you would move if he’d only ask you to do it, but…
But you’d lie if you’d say that you do not like this. Because you do, with all of your heart, even if normally you’d be irritated by behavior like this. But, this is John Price that you talk about. He’s so delicate in this, joking around so much that you don’t even pay attention to the amount of times that he does that.
The closeness doesn’t bother you; not until you realize that a bunch of people are observing you with sharp precision; they’re talking about something too, but it’s clear for you that they are watching the two of you. It’s even more obvious when they gasp right in the moment when John kisses you in the temple, squeezing your hip, silently thanking you for the help. Like you were doing it out of simple kindness, not because you two are responsible for it anyway.
“I’m gonna go,” you murmur under your breath, almost jogging to your house, just so no one will notice the flustered look on your face.
You’re not free of John here either; after an hour, he asks you over the text if you have a minute because he has a sudden epiphany. So, like a good neighbor you are, you stay on the phone with him for another hour, when he tells you how a “kids friendly” zone is needed. Because some parents don’t have a nanny or anyone to leave their kid with; and it seems reasonable.
He makes a monologue about inflatable castles, houses, everything that excites kids.
“I already have a guy to buy it from. I just need your word,” he says. You can almost hear how he smiles on the other side from his tone. “So, what do you say?”
So, even if it seems a bit fancy for your town, you agree, thinking it would be his way of saying a proper “hello” to the neighbors. You even regret that your kid is currently at his grandma's place, as you dropped him a few days before the preparations, because he’d love this idea. More than anything.
Yet, you bet that with John being here, in your neighborhood, he’ll have multiple occasions to do fun things.
The day you have to host BBQ, Price is here for you from the early morning. Making final touches, speaking like a motivational coach because he sees how big of a mess you are; he even helps you to do your hair before you two go outside and start everything properly.
You’re the equivalent of a stress ball, when he’s literally the calmest person alive in the same moment. Water to your fire, easing your nerves in the moments that you’d consider as trivial, extinguishing the heat when you need it. Making you actually feel seen with your feelings, with how he acknowledges them and treats you the best he can in the moment. You feel less dumb for being so nervous, and automatically you feel better as well.
Hours feel like minutes by his side. You greet your neighbors, make small talks about food or their families, asking how they are; you can easily leave any negative thoughts behind you, without caring about your emotions before the BBQ. All you care about is right now, and how John is literally around you at every moment possible—because this man does not leave your side, even if you’re talking with someone that he doesn’t know personally.
“Oh, she’s responsible for all of it,” he says, grinning like a devil, when you talk with the Smiths about the preparations. It’s so easy for him to sneak an arm around you, and you can’t even find in yourself the want to push him away. “I was just Santa’s little helper, ‘s all.”
“Stop that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He was very helpful, actually. I wouldn’t know what to do without his help.”
“Only on her command.” John shrugs, looking down at you. For some reason, you feel your stomach tightening on the size difference that you two have. “Without her, it probably would look like a brothel. Maybe worse, so she is the real brain of the operation.”
He’s like that all night. Praising you, even if he’s not directly speaking next to you; him pointing a finger in your direction, sending a wink, it all makes you feel like you suddenly have your wings again. Like you can actually do anything with him by your side. He charges your batteries, and you’re thankful for that.
What also charges your batteries is alcohol—normally you wouldn’t be a drinker because of your son, but when you know he’s in your mother’s house, it’s a different situation. Drink goes after a drink when you have lots of food, shots come down your throat way easier with your favorite neighbors. It’s easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere of freedom, when you haven’t had that in a while, too busy, too focused on your son.
Just like you thought, you have your wings again.
You don’t even feel like you’ve gone too far. Not when John accompanies you in the experience, asking if you need another beer, so casually, nudging you with his elbow. Taunting, like he wants to say that you won’t do it anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t, if you weren’t so drunk, but now, when there’s not a single coherent thought in your mind…
Things start to get fuzzy after that beer. You don’t even know when you put the alcohol away in order to dance with Price; you don’t know when his casual touches become something entirely different. It feels like he’s trying to help you, support you, as your legs start to feel more wobbly, but when his hand lands lower, fingers play with the material of your dress—a dress that right now seems like something you’d rather get rid of in the heat of the moment—you feel that something else is in the air.
The “don’t do anything stupid” side is flooded by waves of excitement, by the thought that you feel like you deserve a bit of fun after so many times you told yourself “no”. Maybe that’s why you agree to him walking you to your house, maybe that’s why you invite him over for a little “drink”, to end the success of the neighborhood BBQ that you two “hosted”.
Even if you have enough drinks for a few months, if you’re being honest with yourself.
You really had everything innocent in mind about this. You even came up with the speech about how late it is in your head, but the brakes fail you just in the moment when you stand right in front of him. It’s all happening in slow motion, like a catastrophe that was supposed to happen and everyone knew it from the beginning—but that catastrophe is you kissing him.
He doesn’t say anything, at first. The potential consequences of your actions dawn at you, making you sober up almost immediately, when you see his face. Darkening with every second, making you doubt what you did. Because if it was good, why is he like this?
“I’m so—”
“—Don’t even try.”
And that’s all what he says before kissing you. Kissing you so deep that you forget to breathe for a second, and you just stand still, letting him pick you up like a doll and go upstairs because what can you do about this?
He doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. His lips are everywhere, just like his hands, when he finds the bedroom—you’re already out of your dress and lingerie, but he is fully dressed. You almost want to complain, have a protest that it’s not right, as you waited maybe even more than him for this exact moment, but any word that wants to come out from your mouth is gone when he sinks his finger into you.
It’s slow, at first. Deliberate, making you feel like he’s trying to know you before he does anything more, before he loses himself in you—because that, oh, that happens fast. Faster than you’d thought it would take, but you do not mind that; not in the moment when his two fingers pump into you, while his thumb is taking care of your clit.
The moment his tongue replaces his thumb though, this is the moment when you see stars and all the restraints you had, completely break under the influence of his movement. He knows what he does, how to make you scream, and how to make you beg—because that’s what you want to do, when he suddenly stops.
"John—”
He chuckles, amused. His eyes are glimmering, when he meets yours. "Patience, honey. Patience."
And when you finally come with his name on your lips, you know you have it.
He gives you maybe a fifteen second break—it’s enough for him to strip out of his clothes and pounce at you again; it makes you realize that is the main course you needed from him.
It’s far from casual sex, far from the scenario that you’ve created in your mind. It’s something deeper, as he intertwines fingers with you, insisting that’s the only way you’re gonna do it; and he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Before you can ask any question, he shushes you with a heated kiss, his hips moving, but at a much slower pace than you expected, like he’s trying to devour the moment. Enjoy it until it lasts, maybe show you something so you’ll miss him in the future.
It’s almost like he wants to prove something here and you let him do it. Because for the first time, it’s nice having someone to take the initiative. Lead you, lure you into the mindset that you need him for that piece of heaven he’s busy to give you. Fixated on that, you plant bloody crescents on his back, not caring about the outcome.
It’s just you and him, at this point. You and him, no one else really matters.
Afterwards, you pay no attention to the fact that he insists on staying. He, in fact, doesn’t say anything; he just states a fact when he puts his big arm around you, squeezing you tight and you just know he won’t leave. You think it’s only right—he’s drunk, after all. It wouldn’t be very neighborly to you to ask him to leave in that state, even if he lives right across the street. And, it wouldn’t be very neighborly to ask him that, considering that he fucked the shit out of you.
Because he'll probably leave in the morning anyway. Everyone leaves before the sunlight, it’s just the way the world is. It was nothing… serious, right?
But, he doesn’t. Oh, of course he doesn’t.
He brings you coffee in the morning, right to your bed, sandwiches on the plate. You can’t quite put it when he had the time to make it, or when he got up—because you’d normally sense someone walking around your house, you’re used to being on high alert. Yet, there is John Price, smiling from ear to ear.
“Your mother called,” John says, which causes your heart to drop immediately. “Said that she’ll drop your son later.”
“...and what did you say?”
“That I’ll tell you this, as soon as you’ll wake up,” he informs you, kissing the top of your head. Like it’s nothing, he sits next to you, pulling out his phone and typing something; as you peek, you can see the news website popping up.
Great. Now even your mother knows about him. It’s not like he is that important right now, but you know your mom a little too well, so it’s easy for you to assume that she’ll make a big thing about him and you’ll have to tell her something to blow her off. And, for now, you’re out of ideas of what exactly you should tell her.
Something other than “it was just casual sex because he’s my hot neighbor”, something other than “I actually don’t know him that well”. Words are spinning in your head; a massive hangover doesn’t help to form anything, so you just nod in acknowledgement, watching him for a moment, bewildered. He acts like he owns this bed, and doesn’t even think of leaving. It’s a potential threat, when you think about it.
You’re not even surprised when you see text from your mother on your phone.
You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.
You decide it’s best not to reply to that, so you just grab the cup of coffee that John made you.
#john price call of duty#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price x you#captain john price#john price cod#cod x reader#captain price#captain price fanfic#john price#price cod#price x reader#single mom reader#john price smut
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If there would be a tommy begins episode, what would you like to see?
I have waited... my entire life for this moment.
Sorry, I'm about to answer this question in the most Jack way possible. Strap in, I'm about to enter my director era. Okay, let's get to it.
Tommy Begins (Jack's Version)
Opening scene: We see a kid (8yo) playing with Legos on his bedroom floor. His room is very much so a boy's room—there are dinosaurs and dragons and a soccer ball in the corner—but it's very sparse. This family is not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. He's building a car, and beyond his closed bedroom door, you can hear muffled shouting. It's his mom and dad. The boy stops playing with his toys and listens as a door slams downstairs (his mom leaving) and heavy footsteps come up the stairs. He's already scooting backwards when the door opens and his father stands in the doorway. He's visibly drunk, and the camera is angled at Tommy's height so that the man in the doorway looks scary and imposing. (We're really leaning into the visuals here). So his dad looks at him and says, "Tommy, were you eavesdropping?" He wasn't, of course, but it doesn't matter because his dad is already undoing his belt (to beat him, not for anything else!!). Little Tommy continues to scoot backwards as his father comes into the room, and closes the door behind him. Before the door closes and the light from the hallway is shut out, we get a shot of the man's shirt—his father is an auto mechanic and the name Kinard is stitched into his clothing.
Similar to 5x17, where Jonah is introduced as a random little boy before the narrative makes the connection as to who he really is, this is the point where the audience realizes, oh, this isn't just any Tommy, this is our Tommy. And he's about to get his ass beaten.
Oh shit.
And then the 9-1-1 title card appears.
Now, all the begins episodes parallel past with present, so in my head, Tommy is off-work. Buck is moving in that day (this isn't a Buck/Tommy focused episode at all, but Buck is the vehicle for this episode to happen) and Tommy needs to finish going through his stuff to make room for him. He comes across a large box in the back of his closet that's stuffed with all his random keepsakes. He reaches into the box and pulls out a small Rubik's cube on a keychain.
The next scene flashes back to the past. We see Tommy as a teenager, getting into trouble with his idiot friends. They're all high as kites, and one of his friends overdoses on [drug]. He notices—he's the only one that notices, actually—and tells one of his other friends to call 9-1-1. They don't because they're kids, there are drugs involved, and they're stupid, so Tommy calls 9-1-1. He follows the operator's instructions and stays on the line until the paramedics get there. He accompanies his friend to the hospital and someone—a cop who is familiar with him, from having plucked him out of trouble a handful of times—waits with him. He tosses Tommy a Rubik's cube (the same one from the box) so that he can keep his mind occupied. His friend is okay, but the cop is like, "Listen, kid. One day, that's going to be you and one day, it's not going to turn out so well. You've got to straighten up or end up dead." Basically, the whole thing is kind of a wake up call. Before the scene changes, we see Tommy look up and look toward a container of pamphlets on the hospital wall. One of the pamphlets has a soldier on it. In his hand, the Rubik's cube has been completed.
In the present, Tommy continues going through his belongings. This is a dense episode, so we're not going to linger too much on what's happening in the present because it's secondary to what's going on in the past, but Buck and Tommy are texting. Buck is excited and has no idea the turmoil that is going on in his boyfriend's head. Tommy matches his enthusiasm (and it's genuine) but also takes a lot of effort at the moment. Still he smiles a little before he puts the phone down and continues digging through the box. Next, he withdraws his dog tags (and if it isn't obvious by now, the items in the box parallel with the next flashback because these are memories that are actively being triggered while the audience watches).
So, the next scene is obviously back to Tommy's time in the Army. Now, ideally, this would be a ninety-minute episode and I'd have the time to explore all the layers of Tommy's time in the service, but, alas, the boundaries of network television. In my head, most of Tommy's trauma comes from his childhood rather than his time in the Army anyway (which isn't to say it doesn't exist, just that it's not at the forefront of his issues) so we're going to have to gloss over that a bit. When we see him again, he's already in the Army, already well into his career, and the audience can see that he's shaped up and matured quite well. He's well-liked and good at what he does.
He's doing repairs on a helicopter when his CO approaches him and asks where he's going and what he's going to do after he's discharged. Tommy looks across the [hangar] and the camera pans to a a young man. He's in his 20s. Handsome in a boyish way. He's already looking at Tommy, but he looks sad and guilty and hesitant. They meet each others eyes and stare just a bit too long to be casual, and there is a lot of unspoken feeling between the two of them. Their relationship, such as it was during the DADT era, is heavily implied and it does not have a happy ending. Tommy looks back at his CO and says he's headed back home to Los Angeles. As for the rest, he doesn't know what he'll do after he leaves, but he'll figure it out as it comes to him. When he looks up at the guy, he's already gone. It's kind of a metaphor for the way the things he wants always seem to slip away.
In the present, Tommy is still going through his stuff. He unearths an old Academy shirt, so the next scene is his first day at the 118.
Tommy doesn't know it yet, but this is the first day of the rest of his life. Immediately, seeing those walls and doors fills the viewer with a sense of peace. Finally he's where he's supposed to be. He learns on his first day what type of boys club the 118 is under Gerrard. He's visibly uncomfortable (visibly to the viewer, who knows him well enough by now to read his face, but not to the old guard) the first time someone makes a homophobic joke. But he laughs and joins in, aware of but refusing to acknowledge the fact that they are making jokes at his expense. Just like that, he's accepted.
We see him assimilate quickly; the 118 goes on several calls. Not necessarily a montage, but we don't linger on the calls either except for a big fire. He saves Sal DeLuca and is rewarded with lots of accolades and praise. Tommy is one of the "in-crowd" and things are going well. But then Chimney shows up and Hen shows up shortly after. We all know how this plays in canon, so we don't linger too long on the times when Tommy is a dickhead but we do understand, from his perspective, that he has disdain for Hen and Chim—not because he's racist but because their existences threaten to dismantle this bubble of safety he's built around himself at the 118. The goal isn't to make the audience dismiss his complicity, but rather make them understand why he made the choices he made.
Because I am self-indulgent, there is one additional scene right before Tommy leaves for Harbor, where he and Hen are sitting in the locker room. She asks if he's going to miss it. He says he doesn't know, then he pauses and says "Kind of." There are lots of mixed feelings here. He suffocated himself in the closet within these walls and became someone he did not recognize, someone who went along with things rather than fight against the status quo, but he also learned how to breathe and exist a little freely once Gerrard left and Bobby took his place. He got his first taste of what it looks like to be Queer and proud within these walls, and that means something to him.
He looks at Hen and there are so many things he'd like to say to her that he doesn't know how to articulate, mostly because he cannot yet articulate them to himself. He's getting to that point but he's not there yet, so when she asks why he's looking at her like that, he just says "Thank you." "For what?" "For showing me another way." (This, of course, has a double meaning: first, referencing the idea that Hen/Chim showed him another way to be a firefighter, to be a family, to be a human being, and second, referencing the fact that Hen showed him another way to be Queer—showed him that Queerness doesn't have to be filled with self-hatred and pain. It can just... be... and people can either accept it, or they don't). Hen gets the sense that there's a lot he's not saying, a lot under the surface that she's not privy to, but she says "You're welcome."
The next scene is Tommy at Harbor, and the moment he gets there, the viewer can see a weight slip off his shoulders. He's back where he belongs—back with the mechanics, back with the big toys that make him feel at ease. It's a direct parallel to Buck's first meeting with the 118 (not for any Buck/Tommy purposes, just because I love a good narrative parallel) where Bobby pranks him. But Tommy smiles when they bust his balls, and settles into himself, and the viewer can see that he's okay. Things might not be perfect—he might not be perfect—but he's on the right track to being the person the audience will know and love in a few short seasons.
Back in the present, Tommy is pulled out of his walk down memory lane by the sound of his front door opening. Buck is standing on the other side with an overly large box in his hands. Tommy helps him carry it in, and offers to get the rest of his stuff from the Jeep, but Buck waves him off. He studies his face for a long moment, and asks if Tommy is alright. Tommy opens his mouth to answer and discovers, almost shockingly, that he is. He is alright. Maybe he wasn't a couple minutes ago. Maybe those items from the past dredged up memories that were best left forgotten. But he's here now, in this moment with his boyfriend, and he's fine. He's survived a lot. He's grown a lot. He's happy. So he smiles and he says yes, yes he's alright, and he kisses Buck, who also smiles, deeply. The doors close, implying sexytimes and Tommy closing the door on all the chapters of his life that have led him to this place, where he's now ready to embrace and walk into his future.
aaaaand SCENE :) the end.
#I had WAY too much fun with this#Oh my god.#TIM GET ME IN THE WRITING ROOM QUICK!!!!!!!!!!#tommy kinard#tv: 911#bucktommy#(but only slightly)
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