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#there are so many soft moments between all of them but my boys especially

writtnbyhan · 6 months

Text

NFWMB.

PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader

TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1945

PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3

You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.

You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.

So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.

You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.

Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.

“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.

“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!

You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.

“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”

She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.

It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.

After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.

Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).

Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.

“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.

“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.

He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.

“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.

“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.

You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.

“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.

“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.

“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.

“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.

“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.

The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.

“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.

“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”

“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.

“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.

That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.

“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”

Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.

Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.

You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.

“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”

Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.

“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.

Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.

“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.

#✿ . . cami writes #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader

1K notes · View notes

revasserium · 3 months

Note

In case you hadn’t noticed I utterly ADORE your LaDS fics 🫣 You write the boys so well I squeal when I read them!

Can I request prompts 27 and 142 from the prompt lists for our boy Raf? Could it be nsfw? 👉👈

Eagerly awaiting all of your fics about Raf and Xavier especially!

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

eventide (27. follow me + 142. in the still of the night)

rafayel; 2,413; nsfw !!!, lvl 55 spoilers, piv sex, fem!reader, no "y/n", riding, heat??? adjacent sex???, smut with feelings, fluff and smut, pwp-ish

summary: "my life? what if you just take it instead?" said the sailor to the mermaid.

a/n: this is probably the best i've felt about a smut piece i've written. that ebb & flow lvl 55 story has me in a chokehold, i tell you.

“Maybe from the start… it was all a trap. Maybe the mermaid was after the sailor’s life all along.”

You reach forward to press your palm to the side of Rafayel’s face, feeling the heat of his skin burning against yours. Gently, you run your knuckles along the sparkling scales dotting the tops of his cheeks like so many pieces of a misplaced sea. You see his eyes go wide, feel his breath quicken impossibly in his chest.

“Okay.”

Rafayel blinks, and the barest hint of a frown creases his eyebrows as he turns to look at you.

“Okay?”

You smile, leaning forward with a soft sigh, letting your fingers trail down to his neck, where his pulse beats hummingbird fast beneath your touch.

“Mhm… you were saying earlier that you’d be so weak tonight that I could take your life if I wanted it…” you slowly shift your leg, one and then the other, over till you’re straddling Rafayel’s lap, both your hands resting on his shoulders. Fish-tail flashes of emotions flicker behind his eyes as he holds his breath, his fingers trembling as he reaches up to catch your wrists; he holds them tight, but he makes no move to either pull you closer or push you away.

You can feel his uncertainty thrumming in the air between you, static — electric.

“I — did…”

You let your head fall sideways as you flash him a sweet, helpless smile, “Then… if it were all a trap for my life… I’m saying that you can have it.”

You lean forward, and like this, your eye line is just a bit higher than his, forcing him to crane his head upwards to keep ahold of your gaze.

He is so warm beneath you that for a moment, you wonder if he’s activated his Evol by accident.

“I can…” for a moment, he seems confused, even drunk as he stares up at you, and then, the flicker of something behind his eyes as he goes stiff beneath you. Then, his fingers are digging into your hips and his breath is nearly searing across your lips. Your newly released wrists burn where his grip had been just seconds before, and you slowly sink your fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean — or make promises you’ve no intention of keeping.” There’s a razor’s edge glinting beneath the soft hiss of his voice as he glares at you, a longing as deep as the sea roiling behind his gaze.

You steel yourself, shifting slightly in his lap, your cheeks warming as you feel him quivering beneath you. He’s still hot, too hot, but he holds impossibly still as you lean in, your lips ghosting over his in a phantom kiss.

“Please…” it comes out as a ragged plea, and you’ve never known him to sound so desperate or so utterly broken, “if you don’t — if you’re not —“

You run your thumb along his jaw as you force him to look at you.

“Rafayel… kiss me.”

It is a breaking dam, a cresting wave, crashing against the crumbling edges of his self-restraint — his lips on yours, his tongue pressing, hungry and demanding, into your mouth as he surges up to kiss you. It’s all you can do to cling to him, your hands looping behind his neck as he crushes you to him, his hands suddenly everywhere as he tugs at the hem of your clothes, rucking them up just to press his palm to the bare skin of your waist, your back, to trail them up the ridges of your spine.

He tastes of salt and desire as he groans against your mouth, your fingers tangling in his foam-soft hair, heat tingling through you as he forces your hips against his and you feel him — hot and hard. A soft whine escapes your lips as he pulls back, panting, his eyes misty and dark as he watches you with a wildness that chases shivers down your spine.

“Are you scared?” he asks, his voice low and just a little breathless, “do you regret staying?”

You swallow and shake your head, trailing your fingers down into the already-opened front of his shirt, grazing your nails along the skin there. A delicious, heart-rending anticipation sizzles through you at the way his stomach flexes, and the next moment, he’s dropping his lips to your shoulder, his teeth sinking into the bare skin there even as he grabs your hand and forces it lower — and then lower.

Heat pulses through you as your palm meets his clothed cock and his head drops back with a moan. Like this, the scales on his neck and jaw are even more pronounced, glimmering in the dim, moonless night. You loosen his belt with one hand before tugging it down with the other, but before you can reach for him, he catches your wrists and pulls you bodily back up the length of his torso.

You almost yelp, shocked by his strength and the ease with which he’d hauled you over his lap once more. There’s an intensity to his hooded eyes, so much darker than their usual lost-treasure brightness, but he smirks as he sees the obvious blush marring your cheeks.

“Already embarrassed? Didn’t you say you were going to give me your life?”

You purse your lips, “I — I am.”

A strange expression crosses his face as he scoffs, “I told you… don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

And then he’s kissing you again, harsh and hungering, a ravenousness carving through him into the hollow of you as you roll your clothed core down over his throbbing cock with a loud, hapless moan.

“S-says who I don’t plan on keeping them?” you ask, breathless and panting as he lifts your hips with a hiss and literally tears away your underwear. Shivers shake through you at this blatant display of strength — you’d always known he was strong, stronger than he lets on but you hadn’t expected this. It caves your stomach and curves your spine as a want so carnal it sears your mind threatens to take you over.

“Mm — fuck —”

He swears as he shoves down his own pants and his cock springs free, thick and leaking as it slaps against the tight muscle of his lower abdomen. You can’t help the way your eyes wide or your breath hitches at the sight �� your mouth waters, your throat tightens.

Heat pulses between your thighs as you press your lips and reach down to wrap your fingers around his base, giving him a soft, experimental tug.

The low, guttural moan that spills from you threatens to steal your sanity from you entirely. And suddenly, it’s not only him feeling the effects of the eventide night — you too start to wonder if there’s something in the thick heat of the air, in dark moonless skies.

“Come here, princess —” Rafayel’s fingers dig into your arms as he jerks you up again, pulling you up till you’re hovering over his weeping cock, your core throbbing with want, the nickname somehow sending another thrill tingling through you. You wonder if you had been a princess in another life — if Rafayel had known you then too — if you’d also wanted each other as you do now —

“R-Raf — ay — yel — ah!” you brace your arms against his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself over him, both of your eyes caught on the intoxicating sight of him sinking into you, inch by inch, thick and unrelenting, until finally you’re seated fully in his lap again, your breaths coming in quick, harsh gasps as you try to adjust to the sting, the stretch.

“H-hey…” Rafayel strokes a hand along your cheek, his own chest heaving even as he checks in on you, “how — how do you feel?”

You keen, rolling your hips down over him just to watch him shudder, “G-good — ah — fuck — there —!”

You plant your palms on his chest and lift yourself up a few inches before sinking down again. The friction nearly drives all coherence from your brain as Rafayel’s hands fall to your hips, his nails digging crescent moon marks into the plush above your ass.

He groans, “Y-you’re squeezing m-me so… so tight — ngh — fuck fuck fuck — do — do you feel that — right — right there?”

He lets out a panting breath as he forces your hips forward and back as he flicks his eyes down at the place where his cock is disappearing into your cunt over and over, a ring of sticky white collecting round the base as he watches, his eyes glazed over with want.

“Yes — yes — I f-feel it —” you force your thighs to go faster, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades as you try to ride him harder, keening when he dips down to catch one of your nipples between his lips, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh, his tongue circling your sensitive nub. Fire chases down the length of your spine as pleasure explodes in your lower belly as Rafayel rucks up into you faster and faster, reaching up a hand to squeeze at your other breast, thumb kneading at the sensitive nipple till you’re twitching, falling forward into his embrace.

“You really — really like it when I fuck you deep like this, hm?” and he’s just as breathless as he should be, there’s sweat beading at his brow, an almost crazed, unfocused look in his eyes as he pulls back to look up at you, but it only serves you spur you on as you ride him faster and harder, tossing your head back, slamming your hips down into his to chase your own high as you cry out before falling forward against his feverish skin.

He shifts his hips and you go rigid above him, the tip of his cock hitting a particular place inside you that makes the entire world go fuzzy around the edges. Once, twice, three times — and then you’re collapsing, shaking and shuddering as you come undone around him, and he’s swearing beneath you, squeezing you to him with a thick, bitten-off groan.

“Fuck — i-if you keep — squeezing — around me l-like that — ah-ah-hah…!”

You let out a soft whine as you feel him spilling hot inside you, his cock twitching as he shivers, his forehead falling against your shoulder as he sighs.

“Mm… how… how do you… feel?” you ask, your voice hazy with tiredness as you pull back, grinning lazily down at him, twisting your fingers absently through the hairs at the nape of his neck. Rafayel peers up at you after a second, half-reproachful, half-amazed.

“You… really have no idea… do you?”

“No idea… of what?” you ask, cocking your head to the side even as he tugs you in, his softening cock still sheathed inside you, the sticky heat of your juices cooling against your skin.

“Don’t you know what it means to have sex with a Lemurian?”

You laugh, shaking your head, leaning forward to nuzzle into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You rest your head against the sofa and dig your nose into his skin.

“No… tell me.”

Rafayel’s arms wrap around you, sweet and solid, even as a soft squishing sound alerts you both to the mess you’ve undoubtedly made on his artisanal couch. Neither of you pay it much mind.

“It means that you’re tied to me forever — for this lifetime at least, and that… if you ever try to have sex with anyone else…” Rafayel drops his voice, murmuring into the shell of your ear as you shy away at giggle, “You’ll suffer dire consequences.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “Well, good thing I wasn’t planning on having sex with anyone else then. In this lifetime… or the next.”

Rafayel goes still beneath you. And for a second, it’s just you and him and the catching of lost breaths, the remembering of things once forgotten, lives once lived and yet to be lived again.

“Haven’t I told you? Don’t say things you don’t mean…”

You lift your head to look at him, a soft smile lifting your cheeks as you sigh.

“You keep saying that… but I’ve meant everything I said,” you say, trailing your fingers along the high of his cheekbones, the line of his jaw. You feel his skin burn fire-hot beneath the pads of your thumbs as you run them along his bottom lip.

“Promise you’re not lying,” he says, and he’s not indignant any longer, but reverent and eager, almost anxious.

“I promise.”

“Can your promises be trusted?”

You smile before leaning in to run your lips along his neck, tracing his pulse all the way up to his lips with a light, lingering kiss.

“You tell me, sly merman… weren’t you just saying that the mermaid of legend had set a clever trap for the sailor? So tell me, clever, clever merman… if you’ve bound me to you forever… what power would I have to lie to you, hm?”

Rafayel scoffs, pouting as he looks away, “Unbelievable.”

You laugh, lying your cheek back against his chest with a small sigh, “You should learn to believe it… I mean, I did just willingly give you my life.”

Rafayel makes a soft tsk-ing noise as he pinches you lightly on the thigh, “You really don’t know what you’re saying, do you?”

You shake your head, “No… I know exactly what I’m saying.”

Rafayel grunts, though you know by the sound of his voice that he’s grinning, even as he turns to face away from you. You fancy you can feel the heat as it kisses pink the tips of his ears. You reach up to run a finger along the bright scales still pressing up from beneath his skin as he lets out a soft hiss, turning back to look at you.

“You might not believe me but… at least… I have the rest of my life to prove it to you.”

556 notes · View notes

world-of-aus · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky x Nanny!Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I'm honestly still in my cowboy era and have also been wanting to try my hand at making a series so I bring you this little piece! I have it more less planned and hope you all will stick around and enjoy this ride with me! Happy Readings!

The iron gate is warm under his touch, the rising sun low enough in the sky that the iron railing has now begun to cool. He watches his dark-haired boy run around the ‘arena’; lasso gripped tightly in his small hands as he gives the calf chase.

Bucky chuckles smile pulling at his lips as he calls out to his son, “champ you got to get that rope off the ground if you want to catch ‘im”. The boy all but stops in his track, feet throwin up dirt chocolate eyes locking on his, “the ropes to long daddy, I’m trying!” he pouts.

Clambering off the rails his feet hit the dirt as he makes his way into the gated ‘arena’ closing the distance between him and his son. He gets down to eye level, pout still adorning his boy’s lips, “you, Uncle Steve, and Sam make this look so easy, I don’t get what I’m doing wrong, I'm doing exactly how I see you do it.”

“Not doing anything wrong champ, c’mere,” he says pulling his son close. “Put your hand here, and wrap this,” he says adjusting his sons' hands, “right here, make sure it’s tight now, don’t want to lose your grip on it and risk that calf getting away from you now.”

Grant follows his father’s directions, “alright, now that we got the rope secured let's get it above our heads.” He helps his son get the rope going, “see, you’re getting it, now, I want you to throw it right at that spot over there imagine the calf's just sitting, focus now,” He advises finger pointed to a spot just feet ahead. Bucky watches his son, tongue peeked out of his lips as he concentrates, rope still swinging. It falls quiet for a moment, then the soft thud of rope hitting dirt meets their ears. Grants grin is wide as he snaps his head back to look at his dad, “I did it daddy! I did it!” He mirrors his son’s smile pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug, lips finding the side of his chocolate locks, “knew you could bud, knew you could.”

“I can’t wait to tell Aunt Tasha about it!” the boy’s excitement grows, “well how about we get a few more rounds of practice in, we still got some time before she gets here.”

They’re outside in the arena practicing till the sun begins to dip into the west horizon making way for the moon and stars that have begun to decorate the still early night sky. Bucky leads him and his son from the arena, leaving the calf with his mom in the barn before they make their way to the house. Steve’s truck is parked out front, him and Natasha sitting on the porch waiting.

Grant spots his aunt and uncle first, excitement hardly contained as he drops his dad’s hand bolting to the front porch, his aunt’s name on his lips. Bucky stops by the front of Steve’s truck watching his son, he’s in Natasha’s arms, raving about his day to them, Steve and Natasha hearing him with wonder in their eyes.

“You’re going to be running circles around the arena in no time bud, put all of us to shame, especially your dad” Steve teases meeting his eyes.

Bucky laughs, “The day he puts me to shame in the arena will be the greatest day of my life, means I taught him well.’

“While we can’t wait for the day he puts ALL OF YOU to shame, I’d like to enjoy my little man while I can, right champ?” Natasha grins hoisting the boy higher on her hip. Grant is taken with his aunt hands curling around her neck as he squeezes her there cheeks mushing together.

There’s an ache in Bucky’s chest as he watches the scene before him, like the many restless nights he has he can’t help but to think in this moment what he could have done differently, what he could have said to make her stay. He’s her carbon copy, he hates it. She doesn’t deserve to have any piece of him, not after she just up and left without so much as a word. Bucky still recalls the urgent call from the daycare asking if anyone would be coming for Grant. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of her since that day, not that he’s tried much since Grant’s 3rd birthday.

“Buck - hey pal everything good, you sure you still wanna meet Sam at thirsty barrel?”

The brunette is pulled from his reverie, eyes falling on his best friend who has since approached him, he shakes his head, “yeah - yeah pal sorry just thinking.” He looks over Steve’s shoulder, Natasha and Grant waving at him, he waves back, “have fun you guys, me and little man are gonna have some fun of our own, isn’t that right!”

“Make sure he’s in bed by 9, 10 the latest.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever dad, get out of here!” Natasha replies waving them off.

Steve and Bucky chuckle making sure Natasha and Grant get inside the house before they clamber into Steve’s truck.

“You sure you feeling up for tonight?” Steve questions him as he turns the key in the ignition. Bucky watches the house, getting a glimpse of Grant through the window, “I’m sure, my thoughts just got the best of me but I'll be fine.” Steve puts the truck into drive, “she’s not worth it Buck, the day she decided to leave, cut all contact with you, with grant that’s the day she stopped being of any importance.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs eyes drifting out the window as Steve backs out of the ranch, “it’s just I wonder if I had done things differently if she would still be here.”

“You gave her your all Buck; I don’t think there’s anything more you could have given her to make her stay.”

And though Bucky knows Steve is right, his words don’t sting any less.

The thirsty barrel was in full swing, the bar packed to the brim. Bucky, Steve and Sam had managed to snag the last remaining booth, drinks being run to their table as they talked business.

“So you find anyone to watch little man when we hit the road at the end of the month?” Sam questioned over his drink.

Bucky sighed, he had forgotten, he had been so busy with Grant, with the ranch that he had forgot to look into a caretaker for his son. Another thing he would have to add to his to do list for tomorrow. He shakes his head taking a sip of his beer, “not yet, been looking around but I haven't settled on anyone yet.”

Sam tsks, “We have two weeks before we’re needing to head out on the road Buck, and little man can’t come with us because of school.” Bucky places his drink down running a hand over his bearded scruff, “you don’t think I know that Sam, I'm trying, just haven’t had luck, can’t just trust anyone with him either, I need to know he’s going to be safe, cared for.”

“I can ask Natasha to skip this trip Buck, I’m sure it won’t be a problem, she loves spending time with grant.”

Bucky shakes his head at Steve, “absolutely not pal, I know how much Natasha is looking forward to seeing you ride, I can’t ask that of you or her – I'll find someone – I will.”

A damper has been placed on Bucky’s mood despite the change in subject, and he’s quiet for most of the night tuning in here and there when Steve or Sam directs something at him. He’s there, but not really, his mind drifting to the thought of his son. If Sam or Steve notice his absence, they don’t mention it, nor do they push him to converse, they know how hard it's been for him since she left, and they try to do all they can to help him.

They’re not at the bar long, Sam being the first one to throw in the towel, Steve seconding the notion, Bucky doesn’t argue as they pay the tab, each leaving a tip for their waitress. The trio say their goodbyes outside of the bar, Sam promising to stop by the ranch tomorrow to see grant, get some riding time in with the boy, Steve jumps in to join as well. “Can use all the practice, only got two weeks left,” he chuckles.

Bucky and Steve see Sam off before they get inside the truck, it's quiet most of the ride home, Bucky appreciates Steve for giving him this. It’s only until they’re pulling into the ranch 30 minutes later that he does decide to speak up.

“I’ll help you find someone for Grant,” he says putting the truck in park, eyes meeting his friends, “make sure that it’s someone we can trust, the closest to family that we can get.”

Bucky nods, the fear of that not being possible choking him, Steve reaches a hand out laying it on his shoulder, squeezing, “I promise pal, we’ll find you someone, we’ve got two weeks.”

Two weeks.

Bucky’s nodding again, “I appreciate you pal, listen I'll go get Natasha for you, know you two have quite the drive, don’t want it getting late for you.”

Steve gives him his thanks watching him get off the truck, make his way up the steps and to the front door. Bucky disappears inside, returning a few minutes later with Natasha. Steve watches the two exchange a few words before she’s pulling Bucky into a tight embrace more words shared. The two pull away and Bucky watches her as she gets into the truck safely.

They all wave one final time at each other before Bucky heads back inside, the lights of his home flickering off one at a time. Steve waits till the last light has been turned off before he’s putting the truck back in drive, making his way out of the ranch.

“How was he?” Natasha questions finding Steve’s hand.

“He’s not doing good,” Steve answers, “he’s worried about leaving Grant at the end of the month.”

“I can stay, you know I don’t mind, I can watch you ride anytime.”

Steve looks over to her, “he already said no, you know he isn't going to go back on his word,” his eyes flick back to the road, “we just need to find someone he can trust; we need family.”

It goes quiet in the cab of the truck for a moment, Natasha speaks up a few minutes later, “I might have someone, she’s a family friend, I could have her come meet us at the ranch tomorrow.” Steve gives her a questioning look, the redhead rolls her eyes, “Bucky doesn’t keep anything from me where Grant is involved, it’ll be perfect everyone can meet her, see how she fits in.”

Steve agrees, and he can’t help but hope this works out, he didn’t want to see his friend hurting anymore, and he hoped with help that he might be the Bucky he was before her.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!au #singledad!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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daltonsluvr · 4 months

Text

IN THE COMPANY OF THE STARS

pairing: theodore nott x gn!reader

summary: amongst the peaceful covering of the astronomy tower, you find an unlikely comfort in the presence of none other than theodore nott. (1.2k wc)

authors note: first little drabble to bring me back out of my writers slump - and who better than boyfriend no.1 to do so??

"Is this seat taken?" You turned around at the voice, to see none other than Theodore Nott standing behind you, his hands in his pockets, indicating at the space next to you.

Technically, the seat he wanted wasn't a seat at all. It's a part of the Astronomy Tower floor, of which you were sitting on, your feet dangling over the edge. You had a book in your lap, which had been left long forgotten as you looked ahead of you at the stars which danced upon the night sky. It really was the prettiest place in all of Hogwarts.

Slowly, you shook your head, and he nodded in response, taking a seat beside you. It's strange, you thought to yourself, watching him closely as he too dangled his legs out in front of him. The two of you knew each other from classes and such, yet had only interacted a couple of times, usually to ask for a quill or something along those lines.

You realised then just how weird you must have looked, watching him so intensely, and so you forced your attention back to the landscape around you, focusing on the trees ahead.

A few beats. 1, 2-

"You come here often?" he broke the silence first, turning to look at you. You hadn’t noticed until that moment just how startlingly beautiful his eyes were - dead, but with a softness behind them. It was entrancing, to say the least.

"Yeah," you answered, meeting his eyes. "The stars don't ask too many questions, so they're pretty great company when I need some peace." You hadn't meant for the comment to be funny, yet you watched as a chuckle escaped his lips: a beautiful sound, really.

"Didn't think you'd ever be a quiet person," he half-laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly. "Anyone could hear your voice from a mile off."

"Even the loudest of us need some quiet, sometimes," you responded, shrugging your shoulders, and swinging your feet slightly. "This must be a regular spot for you then, huh, given your notorious 'Mr Silent' status?"

The statement was true - this was the most you had ever heard the boy spoke, to anyone. It was his turn to now shrug, before leaning back on his hands. "You could say that."

You assumed the conversation had reached its natural end, and so you took the book you had on your lap and opened it to the page you'd bookmarked, and began reading.

"Romeo and Juliet?" A voice from next to you read, and you turned once more to see Theodore now reading the cover of the book, raising a brow in your direction. "You read muggle literature?"

"Shakespeare is one of the greats, I'd be stupid not to," you answered. Upon seeing the look on his face, you continued, "Don't tell me you've never read Shakespeare."

He shook his head, and you laughed, endearingly. "You are seriously missing out, Nott. Muggle or not, he's amazing. A real genius."

"Well, talk to me, then," Theodore looked down at you, his eyes piercing through your own. "Tell me about this guy and his books."

"They're plays, really," you started, almost unsure as to whether or not to continue. But he looked at you, almost daring you to continue, and so you did.

It was unusual for you to find someone so interested in talking to you, especially about something as niche as the works of William Shakespeare, but then again, Theodore Nott really wasn't like anyone you'd ever met before.

"-this book was one of the first my mother gave to me, and so its always been my favourite," you finished eventually, your voice growing slightly hoarse from talking so much. "Sorry for talking your ear off."

"No worries," he said in return, sending a small smile your way. "The b-play, certainly sounds interesting."

Looking between him and the book, you reached out to him, book still in your grasp. "Here, take it. To borrow."

He looked at you, almost questioning you with his eyes. "Why?"

"Everyone needs to read Shakespeare at least once in their lives, and I'm guessing none of your friends own any of his works, right?" He shook his head once again, and you shook your own in mock exasperation. "Honestly."

You coaxed him once again until he took the book from your hands, and you watched as he felt the cover of it. "It's a bit battered, because it's the one my mother got me when I was younger. And I have written inside it, so you may want to ignore that as well."

You got up, book officially out of your hands, and you dusted off your robes. Finally ready to go, you made to leave, until he called out your name. You turned around to look back at him.

"Thank you." was all he said, a smile lighting up his features with genuity.

"No problem, Theodore-"

"Theo."

"Theo. No worries, Theo," it was your turn to smile as you turned to leave, leaving the Slytherin boy alone.

— —— — — —

"A boy left this for you." A small first year girl approached you no more than a week later, a box in their arms, which they had outstretched towards you. You were sat by the window in your common room, Transfiguration homework in your lap as you worked through the questions McGonagall had set you.

"Did the boy leave a name?" you questioned, looking cynically at the box in front of you, which you had taken from the girl.

"No, he said you'd know who he is." The girl gave you a small fleeting smile, before skipping off, presumably to go and sit with her friends.

The box was noticeably small, and could be carrying nothing more than a couple of things, you thought to yourself, as you carefully opened it.

As soon as you saw the contents of it, though, a smile spread across your face, and you had no doubts of who the box was from. You had never pegged Theodore Nott to be one for dramatics, so you couldn't understand why he had decided to return your book in a box, but nonetheless you appreciated the sentiment.

You picked up the battered copy, the pages just as beautifully crumpled as before, and you found yourself smiling again. A note lay underneath the book, and you picked it up to read what it said.

The play was great - you clearly have good taste. Shakespeare truly is one of the greats. Astronomy tower at 8? — T.N.

Delicately folding the note and putting it in your robe pocket, you took back the copy of Romeo & Juliet in your hands, and began to flip through the pages.

His chicken scratch handwriting tattooed the pages - not overlapping the actual text or your writing, but still written as nearly as he could in numerous corners of the book.

You laughed as you read through a few of them, most of which were his sardonic comments about Romeo's idiocy, and in turn Juliet's naivety.

Eventually closing the book, you set it aside, and smiled to yourself. You weren't exactly sure how you'd found a friend in Theodore Nott, but you were certainly glad that you had.

#daltonsluvr #imagines #multifandom #multifandom imagines #harry potter #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott #theodore nott oneshot #imagine #writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #hogwarts #hp #lorenzo zurzolo

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writingforstraykids · 2 months

Note

Pls share your soft thoughts for Felix!!

Oh Lix, I do have some soft thoughts on him. Also thank you to @zehina and @atinyniki for sharing some ideas🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix thrives on skin contact, he'd stay right in your arms forever if he could. If you're comfortable with long hugs, subtle touches, holding his hand, or playing with his hair, then you become the source of his energy. He comes to you when he needs to recharge. He hugs you tight, plants himself on top of you, or holds your hand for hours. It doesn't really matter as long as he can feel your presence, your body warm against his.

If none of you is on a diet, he'll shower you with tasty goods. He can't stop spoiling you by baking all sorts of things you love so much. He has accepted his fate, getting called "Brownie boy" by you whenever he ends up in the kitchen baking. Felix knows how much you love those brownies and cookies, so of course, he always keeps some around. What's even better is if you join him, helping him mix the batter and making a mess with him between giggles and playful fights.

Felix is an enthusiastic gamer. The first time you ask him to play with him, he is over the moon for you. He shows you the basics and thinks you're even sweeter than before. If you don't feel like playing yourself, he enjoys keeping you in his lap, claiming you're his lucky charm. He might've cried a little when you offered to help him build his own equipment.

Lix's soft soul is something that needs to be protected, and he hasn't met many people who are as protective of him as you are. He lets you in, allows himself to be open about his feelings with you, and knows you'd never judge him for anything. You're his safe place when he feels like everything is crumbling down around him.

Felix's smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The way his freckles seem to crawl up into his eyes, illuminating them like stars painting the night sky, steals your breath every time. He's so genuine and easily smiling whenever he watches you doing the most basic things, it makes you swoon.

Lix can get a little emotional at times, never fully believing he deserves the love he receives from his friends, fans, and especially not you. Whenever those big, soft eyes fill with tears, he comes to you, gently tugging at your sleeve and curling up in your arms without any further explanation. He doesn't have to because you already know.

That is why whenever you're upset or feel undeserving of love, his heart breaks with yours. He pulls you into his arms, kisses your hair and fondles your head, gently rocking you in his arms. He whispers little secrets and sweet nothings into your ear, trying to show you how much you mean to him. He knows he isn't the problem here, but it wrecks him thinking you'd even consider him not loving you.

You're in love with that stunning face and Lix knows it. It hasn't happened only once you've made him sit on the counter to do his makeup. You love those little moments, accentuating your boyfriend's natural beauty like that. He loves letting you paint his lips, adorn his eyes with glittery eyeshadow or go wild with little stick-on gems below his eyes. You always wear such a happy smile on your face he would never deny you these small moments.

Lix loves shopping with you, since he obviously wants to look his best for you and spoil you at the same time. So buying new fits together is always fun. He gets to know your taste in clothing better and sometimes you surprise him with a color or piece of clothing he would've never thought of wearing before. The joy in your eyes when you find something for him makes him melt into a puddle right there.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits

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quokkawritesarchive · 6 months

Text

TINY WAIST — JISUNG.

pairing: jisung x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW warnings: sub!jisung, dom!reader, marks/ bruises, oral (giving and receiving), overstimulation, established relationship

when you first start dating jisung, he is so shy when it comes to showing affection, especially physical touch.

he freaks out when you take his hand into yours for the first time. he’s hesitant to take it further than a simple peck on the lips, and blushes when you sit on his lap or drop your head onto his shoulder.

but once he recognizes that you are okay with him touching you and being physically affectionate, he will never take his hands off of you. he is so clingy, he is gonna be glued to you 24/7. having no woman is his life for such a long time, this boy is touch-starved in so many ways.

he loves having your head in his lap while he reads, and anytime you're not actively moving or standing up it’s cuddle time. he is very clingy when it comes to cuddling. he’ll be the big spoon 80% of the time and he loves having his arms around your waist, back pressed against his chest, and face buried in the crook of your neck. if he gets comfortable in that position, give up on your attempt to move around. he’ll definitely hold you back and mutter a soft “you’re not getting up yet.”

he loves burying his face in your neck when he’s the big spoon. he’ll press soft kisses on the back of your neck, saying a lot of “mhm, you smell good.” or “I could kiss you here for the rest of my life.”

and it’s not just cuddling jisung loves. once he knows you’re okay with him touching you 24/7, and he’s free to show his admiration for your body, please know that this boy will spend hours between your legs. he is happy to pleasure you over and over, face squished by your thighs, tongue never stopping, nose touching your clit. he gets all into it. his hands holding down your thighs while he overstimulates the fuck out of you. his tongue licking your clit and your juices roll down his chin. he licks all of it up as he makes you cum over and over again. sometimes he will be sweet about it and ask you to cum for him “just one more time” and other times he wouldn’t care and just go until you beg him to stop.

he’d definitely cum in his pants by the time he’s done. the feeling of your core clenching around his face and tongue is enough to satisfy his own needs. bruises would be all over your thighs, cause he was holding them down so roughly. your clit would be so sensitive and wet to the point it burns whenever something rubs against it.

he gets turned on when you start ranting about something. his dick immediately gets hard at the way your voice is rising. anytime you’re stressed jisung would offer to eat you out and to help him with his now fully hard dick. he never asks you to touch him cause he doesnt want to trouble you, but oh boy, he can’t wait for the moments when you do.

have you seen jisung’s waist? he would get so turned on by you touching it. it makes him feel so small and fuckable. place your hands on his waist or hips, sit in his lap and cockwarm him… doesn't really matter what you do, that boy is hard whenever he sees you. make him feel small and he'll turn into the horniest boy you've ever seen.

jisung is super sensitive, but loves seeing little marks on his skin after you hold his hips so tightly.

oh he would definitely cover his face with one hand and squeeze the sheets with the other, while you suck him off. he'd let out little whimpers and peek through his fingers, just to see you in front of him. he'll be trying to turn his face away, then’d be forced to look back at you when you’d tell him that you'll only continue if he looks at you.

a particularly harsh roll of your wrists has him writhing and squirming, letting out the loudest moan you've heard. he would get so so embarrassed, attempting to cover his face with his hands, only hesitantly stopping when you assure him that you love hearing him and the sounds he makes. will definitely wail your name when he comes, and he'll be embarrassed for so so long afterwards. he’d whine at the giggles that you let out, pouting about how embarrassing it was, face still hidden behind his hands.

-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡

masterlist | taglist

#han jisung #han jisung smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz #stray kids #han smut #skz jisung #jisung smut #sub skz #sub han jisung

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theemporium · 8 months

Note

🐈‍⬛ charlos as werewolves and the wonders of scary dog privileges (ok but do u let ur werewolf boyfriend sleep on the bed or does he have to sleep on the floor bc he’s too hot in wolf form)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

There were many things you loved about your boyfriends, and their lycanthropy was one of them.

Despite the fears they shared at the beginning of the relationship between you three, you happily accepted them for who they were. And there were countless perks that came with having two werewolf boyfriends.

There was the fact they were practically walking furnaces, so the winter weather and even just cold hands were never an issue for you anymore. They were strong—insanely so—and sometimes there was something quite endearing with how easily they were able to throw you over their shoulder. They were affectionate, always there to comfort you and be by your side, regardless of your mood. They were just always there for you.

But if you had to name one con, it would be the overbearing protectiveness.

Maybe it was instinctive or maybe it was just the way they were as people, but Charles and Carlos hit a new level of protectiveness when it came to you. Sometimes it would be stupid things like scolding you for climbing the kitchen counters when they could just reach the top shelf for you, or insisting that you sit on their laps in case you fall off the couch (you knew this one was a load of shit, but they always used puppy dog eyes on you).

But sometimes, it was moments like this.

“It’s just down the road.”

“It’s dark.”

“I won’t even be in the dark for more than five minutes.”

“A lot can happen in five minutes.”

“Oh my god.”

The argument had been going on for the better part of the last ten minutes. You had been in the mood for something sweet, though you weren’t sure what, and you saw no issue in quickly popping down to the shops to grab a few things. Instead of asking for something or even offering to join, Carlos and Charles had been arguing that it’s best you stay inside.

Especially considering the idiots had ripped all their clean clothes and the rest of their stuff was currently in the wash, which left them both prancing around the apartment in boxers (not that you minded all that much).

“I’m going and that’s final,” you said simply, pushing past your boyfriends as you grabbed your house keys and slipped on a coat before you made your way outside. It took less than thirty seconds before you noticed them. “Oh, you have gotta be kidding me.”

You stood in the middle of the street, hands on your hips and eyes narrowing at the sight of the two large wolves just standing behind you. The first one being a little larger, all black with big brown eyes staring at you that you knew to be Carlos. The second was a little leaner, with dark brown fur and the same pretty green eyes of Charles that you loved. And both of them just tilted their heads innocently at you.

“You two are ridiculous,” you hissed, eyeing the empty street around you in case somebody saw you talking to two massive wolves and thought you were out of your mind. “Just…stay hidden.”

They did as you asked, staying hidden in the shadows (which is about as easy as you’d assume for two massive wolves in the city) until you made it to the shop. They waited outside as you bought what you needed before you began to make your way back to the apartment.

Except neither boy shifted back once you reached the apartment. Instead, they both padded down the hall before curling up on the massive bed you shared and you could only sigh at their antics.

“If I wake up to either one of you licking me, you’re going in the doghouse,” you murmured, though there was a soft smile on your face as you crawled in between them, using them as a pillow as you quickly fell asleep.

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spider-man-199999 · 1 year

Text

The bracelet

pairing: Nathan Drake x Reader

word count: 3,5 k

warnings: drinking

summary: You meet Nathan while he's working at the bar. He recognizes you and tries to steal your bracelet because he knows you're filthy rich. Instead, you manage to steal his heart.

a/n: This idea originally was supposed to be smut, but I changed my mind. I could make the smut part a part 2 if it's liked enough?

part2

Your black high heels clicked on the floor as you made your way over to the bar. The black dress that tightly hugged your body was making it rather uncomfortable to move and breathe but it certainly did make you look fantastic. Heads were turning to look at you, an emotionless expression on your own face, avoiding eye contact. It was your first night out since the divorce, which made you even more anxious, especially since you deciced to go out alone, no friends, no driver, no bodyguard. After your husband left you, or rather you left him with half of his fortune, which included a hotel to own, you hadn't really been there much, it brought back too many bad memories. But tonight wasn't about the bad memories, it was about forgetting them. So, you sat down in front of the bartender, looking him up and down before he even managed to notice you, placing your bag next you as your hands rested on the bar. He was handsome and young, his dark hair styled nicely. He looked at your hands, staring at the diamond bracelet on your left wrist before his eyes shot up and looked into your own. You smiled at him, crossing your legs on the stool and adjusting your position.

“Aren’t you too pretty to be here alone?” He asked you, placing down the glass he was previously cleaning.

“Aren’t you too handsome to be a bartender?” You asked back casually, earning yourself a raised eyebrow from the man in white shirt and black vest.

“So what will it be tonight? Sex on the beach?”

“Last time I checked the beach was pretty far from here”

He shook his head at you, bitting back a smile.

“A martini would be fine”

“Really? A martini? I can do better than that”

You turned your back to him, resting your elbows on the bar. Looking around the place for a few seconds, taking in the scenery. It was calm and relaxing, piano playing in the background, the soft chatter of people all around, the sounds of the cute bartender moving around behind you. The lights of the crystal chandelier flickering softly. It felt like the 20s, like a scene from "The great Gatsby". Rich people everywhere, expensive drinks, expensive furniture, muffled private conversaions, secret lovers shooting eachother provocative glances. You got almost lost in the moment of calmness, closing your eyes for a second before your nirvana was interrupted by a soft. “Your martini madam”, which made you turn slowly. Your small hand grabbed the tall martini glass, taking a sip from it as you kept staring at the brow-haired boy, a soft smile on your lips. He was way smoother in his movements than you anticipated him to be, you barely even noticed when exactly he took the diamond bracelet off of your wrist. Fascinating, you didn’t expect the night to become so fun so soon. He was one of your own, a smuggler, a man of deception. He went on making drinks for other clients while you stared at him, playing with the olive in your glass. It felt like the bar was a barrier between your two worlds, you knew he probably made minimum wadge without the tip. And there you were, on the other side of the bar, owning half of the hotel, dressed in a Versache dress that was probably worth more than his rent, not a single care in the world but your shattered heart. Guess some were better at deception than others. However, he managed to capture your attention, even if not intended by him.

“I didn’t catch your name” you said as he came near you, playing around with the shaker as he was mixing something up.

“Nate” he replied with a stern voice, poring out the content in a pretty glass and serving it to the person who had ordered. He seemed slightly anxious, like he was avoiding your gaze. Crucial mistake when stealing.

Nate retuned back to you shortly, his body seemed stiff, and he wiped some sweat from his forehead. He worked hard, you could say that, but he mostly looked nervous.

“I assume you already know who I am, since you didn’t ask”

He thought for a second as he looked into your pretty eyes, analysing your face, or rather admiring your features. He cleared his throat after he caught himself staring, breaking the intense eye contact and grabbing a glass to clean.

“I know” he replied shortly, continuing his act of polishing the glass.

Of course he knew who you were, your face was in the newspapers way too often for your own good, along with the change of surname every once in a while. He thought that those tabloids never did you justice now that he had seen you. In the pictures you always seemed gorgeous, but not even nearly as gorgeous as you were under the warm lights of the bar. They called you the “black widow of the upper east side", rumours about your intimate relationships with some of the richest men in New York were spreading like a forest fire. Even if in reality they were nothing more than just fiction, one thing was not, and it was your marriage to the owner of The Ritz-Carlton, the very place he worked at. Nate had heard about the divorce from clients here and there, everyone was talking about how you had managed to set him up into fake cheating on you so you could divorce him. Brilliant move, unfortunately, it was just a rumour. Maybe in your previous marriage you had pulled a stunt or two to get out with as much money as possible, fake accusations, setting up scenes, they were your speciality. But not this time, this time the cheating was very real and very much not your own idea. Maybe that's why this time it hurt so bad, because you actually loved your, now ex, husband. Defeat was something hard to admit for someone with so much pride and confidence as yourself. Nate knew nothing, only gossip.

“Then why did you take my bracelet? It was a gift from my ex husband” you asked, earning yourself a shocked looked for a brief second, before he put on his poker face and looked away. He had a few ways to play his cards in that moment, thoughts calculating the possible outcomes of each one.

“You could’ve lost it” he stated “Do you want me to look around and ask if anyone has found anything?”

You smile at him charmingly, making him blush slightly. You gracefully stood up from your stool, placing your arms on the bar as you hovered closer to him, faces side by side, your cheeks almost touching each other. You whispered in his ear softly, which got Nate’s heart beating so loud he could barely hear your words. While he was busy being nervous your hand travelled down to the pocket of his pants, slipping inside and finding the heavy jewellery that was previously on your wrist. The weight and shape of the bracelet felt familiar between your fingers, I’d worn it countless of times. You took it out, your hand travelling up Nate’s body.

“I have to admit your work is impressive” you said, hand still moving slowly up until you reached his shoulder. You knew he couldn’t feel a thing because your movement was slow enough and far away enough. “But you still have to master the speed of your hands, your touch needs to be like silk, felt only when you want it to be” you continued whispering in his ear.

You knew your mission was successful when he flinched at the touch of the cold diamonds against the bare skin of his neck. You smiled at him and pulled away, shock written all over his pretty face.

“Looks like I found my bracelet!” You giggled happily, clicking it on your wrist as he stared at you.

Nate obviously didn’t know what to say and how to react, he knew that one wrong move would get him fired, possibly arrested and charged with theft. However, your smile suggested otherwise.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re scared” you told him, taking a sip from the martini. “Don’t be, I wouldn’t say a word, actually, you can have the bracelet if you want it, I came here and I intended to lose it”

And it was the truth. It was the only gift your dear ex husband ever gave you that was not originally bought for his mistress and passed down to you when she didn’t like the gift. This was the only gift you knew, or at least liked to think that, was ever bought with the intention to be given to you. It hadn’t left your wrist in public since. After the divorce you kept it as a reminder that for a brief moment there actually was a version of you that was loved by your husband, there was a version of you that you were capable of loving someone too. Now it was a token of a broken, dysfunctional marriage, that came crumbling down the second your foot stepped out of the presence of your husband. With a swift motion you took it off, placing the bracelet on the bar. It sparkled almost blindingly under the soft interior light. Nate’s eyes kept travelling from your face to the bracelet and back. He was rested against the bar, unsure of what the right move was. He assumed it was some sort of trick that would get him in a lot of trouble. You smiled reassuringly as his hand reached for the diamond jewlery, taking it and placing it in his pocket again.

"Well, it's not every day that someone tips you with a diamond bracelet" he said, making you giggle softly

''You'll have more use of it than I do, that's for sure'' you told him, finishing up the martini. You took out the olive and ate it, starting to get lost in your sour thoughts about the bracelet and what it symbolised.

"Another drink?" he asked, taking you out of your train of thought

"Maybe another night" you said, feeling overwhelmed enough to want to leave. "All this bracelet talk kind of ruined my mood"

Nathan was undeniably very handsome, and you did come with the idea of not leaving alone but all the memories of your ex came rushing in and was about to turn your night into a nightmare. You took out some money from your purse to pay him from the drink but he stopped you, placing a hand over yours.

"It's on me"

"Aww, a gentleman" you smiled at him "Some lady is going to be very lucky with you"

"Maybe you could be that lady" he winked, shooting you a smile.

You looked at him confused for a split second, starting to laugh softly at his sudden boldness. You got up, collecting your things and straightening out your dress while he watched your every movement.

“You don’t have to be nice to me because I gave you the bracelet”

"I was serious" he stated "How about I pick you up after my shift and lighten up your mood?"

"Pick me up from where exctly?" you asked, almost not believing what he was saying.

"Here, 12:30, lose that dress and put on somethig more comfortable"

You looked at him in disbelief but agreed. As you walked away from the bar you could feel his eyes on you as you ocassionally stopped here and there too greet some people you knew. Maybe this "date" was going to be a nice change of pace. After all of the dating on the upper east side, the luxury restaurants, the balls, the charity events, you had no actual idea what people usually did when they were on normal dates anymore. After not one but two failed marriages, the dating world seemed so distant, so surreal. Frankly you had no intention to pursue anything serious with anymore, let alone a bartender that was your employee.

An hour later you found yourself staring dumfolded at your wardrobe, Nathan's voice kept repeating in your head "wear something comfortable". You mocked his tone aloud as you took out even more clothes to throw on your bed. Was he going to be in his work clothes? How were you supposed to match that up? Finally, you stopped on a blue high-waisted, wide leg jeans and simple black blouse. For a while you were considering black heels but decided to switch them up with some very old platform converse sneakers that you hadn't worn for years. You put on a leather bomber jacket to finish off the look. It felt ridiculous, you hadn't dressed this causal since freshmen year at university, having forgotten you even had those clothes at all. You sighed, shaking your head as you walked out of the door and headed towards the hotel. Unsrprisingly, you got there about 15 minutes late, which got you anxious because Nate could gotten discouraged and left. You looked around, not seeing him and you felt slightly disappointed, but not surprised. The whole situation was so odd to begin with, no wonder it didn’t follow through.

"And I thought you couldn't get more gorgeous" you heard from behind you, turning to be met with Nate's charming smile. He just walked out of the doors of the lobby, probably spotted you from inside.

"I'm sorry for the wait"

"It's alright, it was worth waiting for, come on, I'm starving" he said, taking your hand and leading you somewhere.

You followed him, as you walked the streets of New York hand in hand. He wasn’t in his work clothes, instead he wore a simple grey t-shirt with a leather jacket on top, black jeans and probably his work shoes. He had a backpack on one shoulder, assuming this was where he kept his uniform. The spring air was warm but there we ocassional cold brezzes. You looked around the flashy signs of shops and supermarkets, the monotonous souds of ocassional cars filled your ears, along with the calming sound of his footsteps a little ahead of yours. They say New York is the city that never sleeps and it's true, but despite living there your whole life, you never got to experience it in that way. You didn't really know where Nate was taking you but you didn't care either, too engaged in the scenery. Late night walks were something so foreign and so new, your eyes were shining more than the diamond bracelt that you gave him and he couldn't help but smile at how awed you looked by everything around you.

"You ever been to this side of town?"

"I have no memory of it"

"You're adorable" And that made you blush, hiding in his shoulder. He laughed at how cute you were being, stopping at a 24-hour sandwitch shop.

"Are you hungry?" He asked after the two of you got in

"I guess, it's kind of late though"

"Who cares?"

He ordered for the two of you, finally letting go of your hand so he could pay and grab the two cola bottles he had bought. In a couple of minutes your sandwitches were ready, so Nate guided you to the closest bech in the nearby small park. The park was adorable, it looked more like a sitting area with a playground for children. You really had never been to this side of town before. Nate started eating hungrily and you couldn't help but stare at how he devoured the food in his hands. You chuckled softly before bitting into your own sandwitch. It was warm in your cold hands and tasted way better than it actually looked. It wasn't like you had never eaten sandwitches on a bench before, but it was so long ago you could hardly recall when it really was. It did remind of freshmen year, being out late at night, eating fast food and meeting up with a guy you actually liked and had no intention to manipulate. It was, in a way, nostalgic even. After the two of you were done with your food the silence was finally broken.

"I feel so alive!" Nate exclaimed and startled you, making you jump in your seat. Both of you laughed softly at that.

"I'm glad you're happy and content" you said, rubbing his belly.

He got up from the bench, offering you a hand. You took it, following him up.

"So where are we going?" you asked finally

"You'll see." He said, continuing the walk. You got to an apartment buildind soon enough, he walked you to the alley on the side where the fire escape was.

"Come on, we go up" He told you, helping you get to the ladder. Nate followed closely behind, guiding you to the rooftop.

''I'm so glad I wore pants to this" You said once you reached the top.

"Yeah? Well I'm not" He joked, taking your hand again and walking you towards an area on the rooftop that had pouf chairs and fairly lights.

"It's so pretty" you said once he sat you down. Nate pulled one of the poufs next to yours and threw himself on it.

"Yeah, best part is, you can see the stars"

You looked up, despite the light pollution, you could really see stars and the moon almost clearly.

"You see this constelation there? It kind of looks like a pan?"

You nodded with a giggle at his description, following the arm that was showing you were to look. You scooted over to him, the top of your head touching his.

"That's Ursa Major..." he contionued

"The great bear"

"So you know your constellations?" he shot up, looking at you

"No, just latin"

"Oh in that case you're about to have a blast!"

And you really did have a blast, you sat there for hours listening to him, looking at the stars. It was so romantic that you wanted to melt into the chair and stay there forever. You lost track of time, reality even. It felt like you two were in your own small world on that rooftop and nothing and no one could reach you. Around 3 am the two of you started to get sleepy, cuddled up against eachother. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, your head rested on his chest. At some point the two of you had decided that moving on one pouf was better. Your eyes were starting to feel heavy while his voice soothed you into sleep.

"Hey" he said softly "Want me to drive you home?"

You nodded sleepishly, getting up after him. He drove you home in his slightly beat-up car, walking you to the door of the building.

"I really had fun tonight" you told him at the door "I really hope that you're not working tomorrow, it's so late"

"I'm glad you had fun, you shouldn't worry about me"

You nodded, kissing his cheek goodnight.

You hadn't had such a great date in a while, which made you think about Nate more in the past few days. How could you not? The pictures of the two of you wandering the streets of New York hand in hand, the headlines wondering who your new "victim" was. Your head would start hurting solely from the idea of putting him in this position. So, you decided it was best to talk to him. That night, you walked into the hotel in your usual attire, but this time the dress was champagne colored.

"Hi Nate" you said as you sat down. He greeted you with his charming smile, wiping the bar in front of you.

"A martini?" He asked, grabbing the bottle

"Actually, a word in private"

He had a puzzled look on his face but followed you to a more private area by the windows. Neiter of you sat down, you were too nervous to adress the topic and he became nervous from your worried state.

"I'm sure you've seen the papers..."

"Oh my god it's about that!" he sighed in relief, placing his handa in his pockets

"What else could it be about?"

"From the way you acted I thought someone died"

"Well, no, I just wanted us to talk about the pictures and say I'm sorry"

"Sorry about what? The way they talk about me?"

"Precisely"

"Well, I find it amusing actually"

"I don't people seeing us and thinking that way"

"I don't care about who sees, I like you"

You looked up at him with sadness in your eyes and it seemed like he got the idea you had in mind. He shook his head in disbelief, his hand reaching out to hold your waist and bring you closer.

"You can't be serious"

"I am"

His hand travelled up, cupping your chin.

"I'll have to kiss you now, you know that" he whispered againt your lips. You closed your eyes and waited, his lips pressing softly against yours. You returned the kiss but your hands remained on your clutch, afraid that the whole thing was going to get out of control if you got too touchy.

"I should have kissed you that night" he whispered against your lips

"You should have"

"You'll wait for me right? I'll become rich for you, I promise"

You nodded in response, hugging him tightly, feeling his heartbeat agaisnt yours and the warmth of his body. You could feel his gaze as you walked away, probably the hardest walking-away you had to do in a long while.

The picture of the two of you kissing also made the papers.

A week later Nate left his workplace and you didn't hear a word from him.

#fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland imagine #nathan drake #uncharted #uncharted imagine #nathan drake x reader #nathan drake smut #peter parker x reader #nathan drake x y/n #nathan drake imagine #nathan drake fanfiction

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saekkas · 1 year

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𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐒.

includes: isagi, rin, nagi, sae, kaiser.

note: this was very much self-indulgent. comfort and a hint of melancholy.

❥ 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈– the man behind the persona;

isagi is grateful for what he’s achieved, for what he’s been given in his time with blue lock. people are cheering his name, kids wave to him every time he goes to the convenient store, people tell him they want to be like him someday.

he’s worth so much more than he started out. he's able to buy gifts for his parents without having the need to look at the price tag, sponsors are reaching out every second for his time, and his heart feels like its beating out of its shell every time he kicks a ball.

isagi’s grown into his skin, he’s become the person he wanted to be all this time.

and yet, he feels the expectations of the world on his shoulders and is slowly drowning with it. people are always staring; people are always watching. they're all waiting for the wrong move, the wrong kick, the wrong pass. most of all, people are dictating the person whom isagi yoichi is.

the egoist. blue lock's poster boy. the next best striker. the person who has it all.

isagi’s given up on counting the amount of names he has, all much more absurd than the last. no matter how many times his parents have told him to relax, to ignore the world, he’s never able to shake the odd looks coming from passer-by’s.

looks born from the image of him controlled by the world.

day ins with you are isagi’s favorite. the way he gets to curl up on your lap with your hands in his hair always has him relaxed. a complete one-eighty from the high he feels when on the field. isagi’s groan is muffled by the wind rushing through the open balcony, “the hot chocolate is going cold.”

“well good afternoon to you, mr sleepy-head,” you giggle, “did you enjoy your nap?”

his reply is another groan, this time with a nod of his head. your hands still in his head to give him room but isagi’s quick to pout as he shoves his head back onto your lap. “these days you’re more like a cat.”

your reply has isagi rolling his eyes, face popping out into view as your fingers continue threading between his strands. “you’ve even started purring in your sleep too, do my fingers feel that good?” you tease, “want me to start massaging you next, yoichi?”

isagi feels himself losing consciousness, drowsily nodding as you stretch across the couch. several moments and he would’ve fallen back asleep if it weren’t for a familiar voice coming from your screen.

“isagi yoichi?” the man on your screen chuckles lowly, “you mean blue lock’s poster boy? yeah he’s all bark and no bite. thinks he’s all high and mighty just because people are starting to know him. says a lot of shit too like he’s the one controlling the field when-”

you feel isagi stiffen before anything else. scowling and muttering curses under your breath, you’re quick to shut the tv off but the damage is done and isagi’s propping himself up from your lap into a sitting position next to you. you see the expression he wears, anger and hurt swirling in his blue eyes.

“yoichi,” you whisper, “don’t listen to them. they’re just nobodies who don’t know you.”

“yeah that’s the point isn’t it?” isagi knows it’s unfair to take his emotions out on you, someone who’s always been by his side, cheering him on. he’s quick to shut his eyes and count his breath, placating the anger shimmering under his veins.

isagi’s too lost in his own trance and he jumps when your palm encases his trembling fist. he opens his eyes to see you peering at him, a soft smile on your face as you gently place a hand on his cheek.

“it’s okay to be angry, yoichi. it’s okay to express your anger, especially when it’s justified,” you hum, a delicate reminder in every single word, “just don’t be angry for too long, ‘kay?”

“and don’t let them dictate you, the person that you are.” you’re staring at him, and isagi finds it hard to breath. you’re warm, hands tracing his cheeks before they slide down onto his neck. he watches you with lidded eyes, watches the way you place a peck on his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. “show them isagi yoichi. my yoichi. the sweetest boy with a dream he wants to achieve more than anything else.”

isagi smiles against your lips as he decides, yeah i’ll show the world who isagi yoichi really is.

❥ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍– a masterpiece born of tragedy;

itoshi rin was once a normal little boy, with big glimmering eyes and a love so big for his big brother.

if you ask the rin of today about his childhood, he'd tell you it was okay. nothing too special, just a bit boring. go to school > go to the field to watch his brother's matches > go eat ice cream with sae > come home to eat dinner and finish his homework > sleep > repeat.

outside of soccer, rin would tell anyone that his childhood was nothing like his brother's. born under the shadow of a genius, he's used to getting the second scraps. hand-me-down clothes, toys, shoes, books, everything.

and yet, rin's never told anyone about the day he had to leave his childhood. no sweet goodbye, no pat on the head, no nothing. because the day sae left their shared dream was the day rin was forced out of his.

it used to scare him, the emptiness he sees inside his eyes. the way his body only moved to a certain rhythm just to appease his own broken dream of becoming the best by his brother's side. the way anger always used to consume him until it all melted into sadness and despair.

"you're doing it again." rin's eyes leave the goal, teal orbs slowly making their way onto yours. he raises an eyebrow at the pout you're sporting, his hand instinctively coming to intertwine with your open one.

"you're looking at the ball like you're about to kill someone." you snort, one finger coming up to poke into his chin. one he swats away with an amused glare. "no wonder people are afraid of you, even with that handsome face."

you're used to the silence rin brings, never awkward, never too consuming. his mother tells you he's been this way since he was a kid and his teammates would say you're lucky to even have a nod sent your way.

but the rin you're used to, your rin has never been cold. always so warm and willing to please, even when he shows it in a different way. when his mood sours though, the way it's slowly doing right now, you know exactly how to turn in back around.

"wanna get ice cream?" you're see the way rin watches the ball, entirely focused on the match that your words go into one ear and out the other. "i'll pay."

and it's later that day, with the sky a combination of oranges and purples, and your laugh filling the air, when rin realizes you bring his childhood memories and relive them with him, hand-in-hand, and a smile etched on your face.

"hey, rin look!" the sound of cheering catches his attention, along with a goal post, patches of grass, and a whole group of kids playing soccer by the edge of the river. "c'mon let's go watch! maybe we can find a hidden genius for you to teach!"

with a tug on his hand and a mischievous smile sent his way, rin realizes that his childhood isn't as long gone as he once thought it was.

❥ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎– ambition is poison;

nagi’s never wanted anything in his life before.

he wanted to play games, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to eat snacks, sure. but before soccer, he’s never had anything that made him want to get his blood boiling and heart thumping.

keeps on hearing people says that he’s changed and they’re proud of him for it but nagi’s never really understood any of them. he’s never understood which part of him changed. he’s never understood why people are pushing more and more for it.

after beating isagi, nagi’s been more pressured by people than he has ever been in his entire life. score a genius goal, they say. win the world cup, they say. become the best striker, they say.

to nagi, everything’s slowly turning into background noise. expectation from people he doesn’t know and pressure from his teammates has him running into a slump. nagi’s becoming stressed the more he's pressured into doing more, more, more.

at the end, it translates to a lack of energy and will power to envision a new goal. every day nagi wishes to just stay in his comfort zone, pushing away ambition and all else. feels suffocated because soccer used to be so easy, so simply fun. now it's turned into a burden because of everyone else.

“not going to practice, sei?”

you aren’t surprised to find nagi in his room, headphones plugged into his pc whilst his fingers are busy on the controller on his lap. the phone call you just received plays in a loop in your head, his coach begging you to make him attend practice for the nth time today.

the moment you’re in his reach, nagi pulls you into his lap and you squeak, hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself. you don’t expect him to speak and you’re proven correct when he nuzzles his head into your chest, snowy whites contrasting your black sweater.

“you okay?” your hands are on each side of his face, palms gently cradling his chin. his eyes are downward turned, and it takes everything within you not to melt. “what’s wrong, baby?”

“don’t wanna practice,” he mumbles, pout clearly visible. “wanna stay here with you.”

“i wanna stay here with you too.” you’re carefully pushing away his bangs, revealing both his eyes as you lean down to press a kiss on his nose. “but you promised reo you’d come to practice today, remember?”

“don’t care.”

nagi’s wraps his hands securely on your waist, squeezing you into his chest. the boy goes back to tucking himself in your neck and you sigh, knowing he wouldn’t budge if you didn’t give him something in return.

“what about i come with you, hmm? you wanted to show me that awesome move you and reo did before, right?”

“tomorrow.”

“what if i give you a kiss every time you score a goal?”

it’s fifteen minutes later, and he’s two hours late into practice but as he walks with you the field, nagi thinks practice is a pain but he wouldn’t complain if he had you to push him along the way.

❥ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄– losing sleep by chasing stars;

sae had everything as a kid; talent, a loving family, a dream- things ordinary little boys could have ever hoped for. but itoshi sae wasn’t born ordinary. dubbed a genius his whole life, he dedicated his entire being into becoming the best. japan. spain. the world.

felt like his childhood was too long. too boring for a genius with bigger things on his path. too eager to carve the path to his dreams, sae left home at a young age, running and running with the support of his family and the whole world pushing at his back.

he never looked back.

sleepless nights, practice-filled days, gruelling matches. sae's gotten used to the heartburn he gets from his own schedule. he's convinced himself it's nothing compared to becoming the best.

at some point, time started slipping like sand in an hourglass. filling up too quick, burning through his fingers. and really, now all sae wants to do is rest, lay down his burdens and disappear from the world's storm.

he never will though. because to itoshi sae, resting means giving up, and giving up means saying goodbye.

enter: you. long lost childhood friend turned lover who seems to be the only person who can soothe his pains. you do your part in supporting his matches, cheering for his teams, and gently coaxing sae back into healthy patterns.

you help him sleep by rubbing random patterns onto his back and whispering support whenever sae becomes a stick in a mud. although it happens more than he would like it to, whenever sae shuts down, he's cold. tries to disappear from the world by shutting people out and pushing his body to its limits.

a ding sounds in the silence of itoshi sae's hotel room, a bright light emitting from his cellphone. sae's leaned back, head in his hands as he tries to analyze and replay the game in his head. the game he thought would have been easy, the game he misjudged, the game he lost.

another ding comes through and sae releases a harsh sigh, hands going through a flurry of motions to reach his phone before his eyes soften and his posture goes slack, the familiar stinging in his eyes a painful yet bittersweet reminder of what he's doing in spain.

angel: hi sae, i know you're probably busy

angel: but i love you and wanted you to remember that i am so proud of you. so so proud.

angel: come back soon, i miss you.

typing at his phone, sae remembers to breath, to carefully unwrap his heart from the iron grip he has on it. as his breath mellows out, a ghost of a smile appears on his lips, chuckling a bit at the silly voice-note you sent.

sae: i love you. thank you.

with you by his side, sae knows he'll grasp every star.

❥ 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑– two sides of the same coin;

michael kaiser- god's chosen emperor. proclaimed playmaker who directs and acts on his own stage. on the stage, he's the perfect ruler, dominating each and every field with precise precision. something the people has learned to call as, "kaiser impact."

he thrives in it, really. lives for the applause. the way the people scream and cheer his name for everyone to hear. everyone has simply become the audience, the background character, and him the self-titled protagonist.

alas, kaiser knows it isn't real. he's deluded himself far too long to forget the echoes of the real world; how he isn't the best no matter how hard he tries to be. such is the price of fame.

kaiser remembers the warnings before he stood under the spotlight. how everything he did had to ensure perfection. the perfect act, the perfect stage. every little move calculated because he has to do what he can to secure his place in the world.

the lights are shining down onto his crown and he needs to shine bright. brighter than anyone else.

yet sometimes, kaiser feels the light is too bright. too scalding. it shines at the little imperfections, the insecurities he tries so hard to cover up. he feels his mask slowly chipping away. fragile little shards of glass falling at his feet. he hears the boos and the crown he wears suddenly feels too heavy for him to bear.

"y'know you don't have to always act like an egotistical prick, right?"

"i've been gone for a month and those are your first words to me?" kaiser is dramatic, he lives for the act. the way his mouth falls into a perfectly shaped ‘o’ while his hands come up onto his chest is the prime example of that. "i'm hurt, darling."

rolling your eyes at your boyfriend who's planted himself near the entrance of your apartment, you raise the remote to point at the tv, "you could've been nicer to ness and isagi too. you're going to play with them in the u-20 world cup soon after all."

the moment isagi's name leaves your lips, it's as if a switch has been flipped inside of kaiser. he picks his bags off the floor, quietly nudges the door closed, and pads into the kitchen without a word.

you're aware of the silence, the sudden change in his personality as you turn off the tv showing his latest match. shuffling into the kitchen, you're met with his back to you, the number 10 of his jersey still printed on his back. you watch as he picks and prods at your collection of tea, gaze so focused on the trinkets that he jumps when your arms wrap around his waist.

"hi, pretty baby." tightening your hold on him, you peck his cheek and situate your head on his shoulder. your boyfriend has always been a delight to watch, whether he's scoring on the field or cooking some meal in your kitchen. "i’ve missed you."

his little 'i missed you too' doesn't go unnoticed, and you're aware of how the tension starts bleeding off his body the longer you keep him in your embrace.

the whine he lets out at the feeling of you untangling yourself from him has you smiling, eyes crinkling at the edges as kaiser does a 180 to embrace you himself. he's warm as you murmur a muffled, "there's my clingy boyfriend," into his chest.

the first kiss pressed into the crown of your head has you looking up to him, eyes catching sight of each other. there's nothing but quiet ease, the soft lull from the aircon, and a steaming pot of water on the stove.

"i love you." you're standing on your tiptoes to reach him, pecking all the way from his forehead to his cheeks, intentionally missing his lips. "i love you so much it makes me go lightheaded sometimes."

"awww, loving me is that bad?"

there's that precious pout and tilt of his head you've been waiting for.

feigning a kiss, you cackle when he leans forward only for his lips to meet your palm. the whine kaiser lets out is music to your ears and you giggle when he snuggles into the crook of your neck.

"the worse," you tease. you feel his lips tracing their way to your collarbone and you tighten your hold on him. "but i don't think i can stop."

"why's that?" he drawls.

"if i do, who's going to stop you from being a menace all the time?" the laugh you pull from him has kaiser tingling, his heart softening, and the spotlight shining onto him not as blinding.

with you trapped in his embrace, kaiser realizes the brighter the light he emits, the darker the shadow it leaves behind. and as your fingers intertwines with his, he realizes he isn't afraid of the dark if you're there to guide him away.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #isagi yoichi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #itoshi sae x reader #michael kaiser x reader #isagi yoichi imagines #itoshi rin imagines #nagi seishiro imagines #itoshi sae imagines #michael kaiser imagines #blue lock fluff

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the-offside-rule · 5 months

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Sebastian Vettel (Red Bull era) - Man After Midnight

Requested: yes (and thank fucking god) on tumblr

Prompt: 23) "I can't believe you're actually wearing my jumper."

Warnings: not particularly

Y/n sat on the edge of the hotel bed she visited, leaning down to tie her shoelace before making an attempt to sneak out without anyone catching her. She stood up and grabbed the clutch she had the night before and headed for the door. She stopped and paused, looking at the beautiful, gleaming silver shine of the World Championship trophy from the Abu Dhabi morning sun shining through the thin curtains. Her mind from the night before was a blur and to be quite honest, she didn't entirely want to remember it. Especially based on where she woke up.

"Leaving so soon?" She jumped at the sudden groggy voice and turned to see Sebastian laying on the bed with nothing but the bedsheets dressing him. "I don't want people seeing me here." Y/n replied. "You don't want to be associated with me." Sebastian chuckled. "No, it's not that. It's just we are teammates and this shouldn't happen between teammates." Sebastian laughed again. "Well if it eases your concious, no other driver on the grid has a teammate that's as talented as you are in the bedroom." She rolled her eyes. "What? Its a compliment." He said. "No, it's not." She retaliated. "How?"

"It implies things about me." She remembers the first time her and Sebastian slept together. It was a drunken mistake. But then again, how many times can something happen before its no longer a mistake? "Well I apologise for...what's the opposite of complimenting?" He asked. He sometimes forgot words or mixed them up. "Insulting, Seb." She replied. "Thank you, schnuki." He said. "Sebastian, don't!" She nearly screamed. He looked at her confused. "I don't see what the problem is? We always do this."

"Seb, that is exactly the problem!" She chucked her clothes back on the floor. "We always do this. This is not normal, I any shape or form! We aren't even friends!" Seb looked at her with his cocky grin still on his face. "We aren't friends?" He asked, faking a hurt voice and pouting his lip. "Shut up or I will shut you up!" He lay back onto the soft pillows behind him and flexed his arms behind his head. "Feel free to do just that, schnuki." She shook her head. "I'm not doing this again." She said. "What do you want from me? Do you just want a quickie and then for me to leave or what?" His face lost the smirk. He realised it was a lot more serious than this. "Well-" He was quiet for a moment. He didn't have anything to say for once. "What would you like me to say?"

"I mean, I'm half hoping you actually-" She stopped and picked her clothes back up. "That's I'd actually what?" He asked, sitting up. "It's nothing, Seb. I'll see you next season." She mumbled, before she walked towards his hotel room door and opened it. "Y/n?" She turned and saw Sebastian staring at her. He looked almost angelic with how the sun had shined on him. The true Red Bull golden boy. "What?" Y/n asked as Sebastian stood in the doorway. "I just can't believe that you're wearing my jumper." He replied. "If you told me at the start of the season that you would be wearing my jumper, I would have laughed." She scoffed.

"Don't be such a dick, Sebastian."

Y/n walked through the airport with her sunglasses covering her tired and red eyes. Although fans were around her, she felt like the loneliest person in existence. She simply sighed and continued walking as fans asked for photos and for her to sign things, to which she obliged and tried to do quickly as to just get to her gate and forget the pain and heartbreak of Abu Dhabi. "Y/n!" An all too familiar voice called. She lifted her head to see her German teammate jogging towards her with his suitcase and backpack.

The swarm of fans soon grew twice the size as the new 3 time world champion joined the woman who took the third place spot. "Sorry I'm late, the cab." He lied. He wasn't meant to fly back for another few days and he definitely wasn't meant to be flying to London like Y/n. "At least you got here." She smiled back. The pair shared a look before Sebastian walked in front of her and grabbed her hand. "We have a flight to catch." She looked down at his hand and swallowed the lump in her throat hard. "Very sorry guys! We have to go, but we'll see you here for next season!" He smiled, pulling Y/n away from the crowd and through to security.

Even in the lines, Sebastian didn't let go of her hand. He instead looked at everything else, such as the boarding times, and tightened his grip ever so slightly. She didn't dare ask why he was holding her hand. She put it down to him trying to prove a point. As Sebastian muttered to himself in German, Y/n decided to let her eyes wander and in doing so, spotted the prying eyes of strangers looking on. The more she looked, the more sets of eyes stared back. It all became that bit too much and she decided it was time to grab Sebastian's attention.

She pulled at his shirt before speaking up gently. "Seb?" He turned and looked down towards her. She was met with his blue eyes, almost instantly soothing her of her worries. "People are looking, you can let go now." Sebastian looked around and saw people staring at him and her, obviously confused about him holding his teammate's hand. "Let them. It's why they have eyes, schnuki." He replied, before pressing a reassuring kiss onto the top of her head. "I found what gate we're at. We can go now." He said, smiling. She simply smiled back and nodded, following him. "Seb?" He looked down to her once again. "What does this mean?" She asked. Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and continued walking. "Well, I was using this as an opportunity to show my true feelings." He looked down to her. "But I think we find out what this is together. It'd be more fun, no?" Her hand squeezed his tighter, as her other hand reached up to hold his arm. This wasn't teammates anymore. This wasn't even friends. This was something else that neither had felt before. Love, perhaps? Well, they had the whole off-season to figure it out and the rest of their lives to promise it.

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel x o/c #sebastian vettel

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decadentworld · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Can I request Steve having his first time bottoming with reader? Im sure he would tbe the one you would have to take more time with, specialy since hes always been the top and only been with woman. I really love reading your longer fics where it all builds up. thankyou!!!

Anon, tell me why I keep making my request fills longer and longer? I hope I’m not being too exaggerated with the length of this one.

Notions.

A story divided into moments.

Steve thinks back to all the moments that lead to him being in this position. Literally.

※ Bottom Steve Harrington/Top Male Reader.

※ 23,391 words.

※ Requested by Anonymous.

※ +18. Minors do not interact.

※ Content and warnings: First time bottoming. Gentle manhandling. Praise kink. Slightest D/s dynamics (Submissive Steve Harrington/Dominant Male Reader). Brief allusion to subspace. Laughter during sex. Discussions about gender roles and stereotypes. Porn with a bit of plot. Allusions to dyslexia.

※ Both characters are canonically 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

It’s already scary enough for Steve to be in a relationship with a man. Steve from two years ago, no, one year ago… perhaps even less: Steve from six months ago would have never imagined he’d ever have a significant other he would call a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. How curious are life’s many twists and turns. It just so happens that this latest relationship of his has been the steadiest in a good while. Just shy of three months, but Steve feels it so much different from any relationship he’s ever had.

Especially from Nancy.

How to describe the contrast between you and her? He could start by the obvious: she’s a girl, you’re a guy. That’s easy. It wasn’t that easy at first, though. Steve’s only known he’s bisexual for just a bit longer than you’ve been together. It wasn’t a smooth transition, being able to put in words that he was also interested in men. It has been like that for a long time for Steve, always noticing that maybe Harrison Ford seemed a bit more handsome to him than to other guys at school. Not that he ever said it out loud. What’s always been easy for him to understand is that he could not be saying these things out loud, lest he accidentally out himself. Even at the time he wasn’t aware of his own bisexuality.

It’s different, thinking about girls and thinking about guys —a single guy, for the moment. The girls he’s been with were usually dainty, pretty, curvaceous. Soft. All things that truly appeal to Steve.

But you? A man?

Oh, boy.

You’re nothing like them. Whereas they were small, you’re big. And while they normally let themselves be led —like they expected Steve to take the reins, because both they and Steve believed it was their and Steve’s God-given place—, you’re independent. You don’t wait for any of Steve’s cues for anything at all, because this has been discussed between the two of you, which at the time gave him the biggest realization of his life: that there’s no need for there to be roles if it doesn’t feel right for both parties.

Even as this has been said, understood, and internalized… Steve started wondering early into the relationship how it would feel like if these roles (again, non-existent if not desired) were… reversed.

And you noticed. And you started to respond in kind.

It’s something new and fun to explore.

There’s more. Steve’s a pretty tall guy, and, sure, it’s rare to find taller girls. He’s always been the one to be looked up to. That would absolutely not be a problem for him at all. He liked, when he was with girls, to lean on them, to playfully put his chin atop their head, to surprise them by hoisting them —Nancy— up when they —she— least expected it.

And now?

There was one time when you did exactly the same to him. He’ll never forget the fuzzy feeling he experienced at that moment. He gave you a screaming giggle, hoping you wouldn’t notice the strong blush on his face. (You did). And when you released him and he stumbled while looking for his footing once again, he turned around, looked up at you, and…

And made this face, see, like he was having an epiphany.

It was as if he only then realized how much taller and bigger and stronger than him you were.

It was something endearing to see, that time. Steve looked as if he didn’t know what to say. His mouth was trying to form the words, but he seemed like he was also embarrassed by his inability to speak, because he looked like he was holding in a nervous laugh at the same time. And when he realized that he was truly speechless, he could only emit a little titter, tip his eyes down with an even darker flush, and bring a hand up his head to put a lock of his hair behind his ear.

The hair behind the ear is what pretty much sealed the deal. It was at that moment that Steve thought for the first time: Is this how girls would usually feel?

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”, you asked then, if only to tease him further, because you somehow knew what he was going through.

And he could only mumble incoherently.

II.

Let’s go back to this change of dynamics for a second. Steve will never not be left reeling after he experiences any of the small pushes you give against his idea of ‘set role’. Any time he feels like his preconceptions are challenged, like when you experiment with his notion of a previously self-thought assertive person, he so gracefully takes it in stride. Enjoys it, even, which is great, and Steve senses you two are reaching an unspoken agreement of sorts:

He’s going to gradually let you take the reins of the relationship.

This is so new to him. Sometimes, it downright terrifies him how alright he is with it. He feels like he should be more combative about it, but…

Steve is curious, alright? He can’t stop recalling the time before you were together when you playfully asked him to compare hand sizes, one of the most overt romantic advances in history that he fortunately responded positively to. If not enthusiastically. And, oh, how very bothered he ended up when you actually pressed your right hand to his left one, palm to fingertips, because he only then became aware of how much bigger your hand was, compared to his. His reaction at that moment was unforgettable. It was similar to the one he had when you first surprise-hoisted him up. All blushy, unable to hide it.

One of the first few times in his life he was truly abashed.

He keeps remembering with each day that passes, with each newfound sensation he gets when he’s with you. There are a series of similar happenings he can’t get enough of. These involve the times when you’re teaching him how to cook.

Listen. Steve Harrington knows he sucks at cooking, alright? But that’s because no mother of his has ever taken the time to teach him basic stuff, such as the amount of time an egg needs to be boiled, and no father of his has ever handed him tongs or a spatula and told him how he’s exactly supposed to flip burgers at a barbecue. He knows he has some of the fault in this. His past as a spoiled brat has left him reliant on the housekeeper who always leaves the fridge stocked, with meals ready to be microwaved at a moment’s notice. And after, it’s not like he had any interest or time in reading any sort of cookbooks when he was constantly stressing over the end of the world.

The fact that every time he tries his hand at cooking he keeps burning that same meal leaves him crestfallen and uninterested in anything else.

So, when you one day visited him and saw how stressed out he was, fluttering around the kitchen, you knew you had to intervene.

“Are you okay, Steve?”, you asked worriedly, watching him turning his back to you, almost frenzied, stirring on a pot and attempting to do something else you couldn’t see from your position while also making quick glances at a book on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah. Uh, I mean…” Steve twisted his head at you and quickly back at the stove. “I mean…” He seemed to trail off, too busy and perhaps even frantic, fully focused on what he was doing.

“You sure?”, you pushed.

“Uh…” A quick turn of his head towards the book and you could suddenly feel his exasperation. “Shit! It was supposed to be half a spoonful? Not a— fucking spoonful and a half.” It was obvious that he was thinking out loud.

You approached him, then, from his left side so he could see what you were doing. A nervous and disheartened glance at your arrival told you everything you needed to know. You put your right hand on the low of his back. “Doesn’t look like ‘okay’ to me, sweetheart.”

Steve gave you a long, sad look, and turned off the dials on the stove. He heaved a brooding sigh. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I thought this’d be easier and quicker to make.”

You smiled at him. He was too sweet. “Honey. You were making me food?”

Steve looked to the side. “Yeah… but, apparently, I’m too stupid for that, too.” He didn’t want to cry over this. He thought he would look even more stupid if he did.

You knew he was spiraling, and you wouldn’t let him. You were familiar with how hard he was on himself on a good day, but you also knew how bad that would get when he was trying to give you his displays of affection. So you brought the hand you had on his lower back up to his chin, softly stroking it with your thumb, catching the gorgeous shy look he was giving you. “You’re not. I forbid you from calling yourself that.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Seriously, Steve. You’re not stupid. Whoever told you that, they’re all levels of wrong.”

His eyes strayed anywhere else, and he muttered: “I call myself that.”

“Well. You’re wrong, then.”

Steve quickly glanced up at you again. There was so much conviction in what you said that he just had to bite his lower lip to hold back a smile.

You smiled, too. You lead his head closer to yours, noticing how breathless he got, and gave him a slow and sweet kiss on his lips. When you withdrew, he was looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “You’re a sweet boy. You were cooking for me. That’s so lovely.”

Maybe you understood that he liked a little bit of praise, too, that day, if the way he looked down and to the side with the lightest dusting of pink on his face was indication enough.

But that expression was rapidly being overshadowed by dejection.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t seem to follow basic instructions. It’s like the words get mixed up, or something.” He looked back at the cookbook and your hand fell from his chin.

“Hm.” You skimmed over the contents of the book, and glanced back at the previous preparations he had on the stove. “I got this one. Mind if I help you?”

Steve bit his lip. “How?”

And you—

You got behind him. Pressed your chest to his back. And took each of his hands in yours.

Steve gasped.

“Like this?”, you asked. “You might be able to learn a thing or two better if you have the muscle memory.”

Sure. Muscle memory, Steve thinks, among the haze that his mind has become. The warmth of your bigger body against his makes it hard to think of anything else. But he claws himself out of it long enough to answer: “Uh— Y-Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!”, he reiterates, with a giddy smile you can’t see and a nervous titter present in his voice.

You chuckle as well.

That day was the first time Steve sincerely felt like he was being… eased into a lighter headspace. The way you guided his hands while chopping ingredients on the cutting board, while sliding them into a pot, even while in the act of properly washing his hands under the faucet and drying them as well… It all had him almost breathless. It was the first occasion in which he didn’t mind relinquishing that previously-thought position he had believed he had to occupy, once upon a time.

And how to describe the feeling?

It felt like a weight off his shoulders. It felt like something he thought should’ve always been present in his life.

It felt natural. Not forced.

That feeling of being enveloped, not only by your bigger and warmer frame, but by this sense of a guiding hand you were giving him, was slowly turning him into mush on the inside, and setting off a fuzzy sensation inside him, like a tickling feeling. It was causing chaos inside his mind, and he didn’t want it any other way.

Which made following your instructions a lot harder, but, hey, that’s why you were being his puppeteer, right?

“Pay attention, baby.” Your murmuring next to his ear had the exact opposite effect.

“I am,” he choked out.

God. His cheeks were so red by that point. Steve found himself abashed knowing that you could see him, because your head was lying on his shoulder, right against his. And the way his heart was pounding, reverberating through his body and through yours against his, was so obvious he knew you would’ve been able to sense it even if you’d been on the other side of the room.

But he found some solace in the fact that yours was pounding, too.

That is the flashback —or rather, string of flashbacks, since you had to keep teaching him how to make different meals— that keeps him going whenever he gets too much into the particular idea that he’s doing something wrong. Because he’s not. Steve feels right when you make him feel like this, and no amount of bigoted ideas drilled into his mind since he had use of reason will stop him from coming back to those moments.

III.

And what moments. Steve has a little problem every time he remembers the first few times he was intimate with you. A man.

Hoo, boy. It’s so different with a guy. The change —or rather, lack— of dynamics would make for interesting situations in bed. And on the couch. And by the entrance door. And…

Well. You can’t blame Steve. It’s as if this new relationship, this new revelation, re-awakened his high libido he thought broken after the whole supernatural shebang. At first, it was he who would eagerly turn you around against the wall after you initially did, turning the previous make-out session into something hot and heavy that would leave him bothered. You would let him, because you understood how new and inexperienced he was with a male, and wanted him to be fully comfortable. He would fall into place and push his own hips against yours, feeling thoroughly thrown off in the best way at feeling something similar growing and pressing against himself. Then he would do it faster, harsher, getting light-headed when he’d feel your big hands on his lower back, urging him until he would muffle a shout in your chest and cum in his pants like it was the first time he’d ever had an orgasm.

But then, as more times followed, and more items of clothing would gradually disappear, Steve would find himself as the recipient of these same actions. The first time was the exact same situation: against the wall. Only, he was the one trapped against it and your body, and he was the one to be rutted against.

And this peculiar feeling of confinement wasn’t unpleasant.

The second time was on your couch. There was excitement in the fact that you two were slowly turning more horizontal. He tentatively let you arrange him to be sitting against one of the arm rests with his legs extended while you kneeled in the space between them. There was also comfort in the fact that you would check on him every five or so minutes, so that Steve would understand that that position was a choice fully of his own, and that he could tap out at any moment if he needed to. And so, the fun would heighten, and he would totally feel out of his depth when he understood that he didn’t have that much space or momentum to rut against you, and that he would have to receive more than he had to give.

He would have to take it.

And this knowledge made his heart beat so fast it’d feel like it was coming out of his chest, and it turned his face into the most appealing shade of pink, and it would pull the prettiest moans and the prettiest expressions out of him, and it made his legs shake like they had never before with a girl, and it had him coming in his pants and covering his mouth in shame at the loud moan that threatened to escape him.

And the third time was the first time he had the courage to ask to undress you, and you responded in kind and asked if you could undress him in turn, and suddenly you’d both be on your bed, only one layer of clothing left.

Steve would take off the last item of clothing of his by himself, the first time he’d ever be sheepish in a sexual encounter. You would compliment his size, because it was a very nice-looking cock indeed. There was no doubt over why he’d been called King Steve in the past.

But when your own underwear was off, he gasped and sat up in shock. In alarm, perhaps. Because, sure, he was King Steve, who was the subject of mainly nice rumors…

But you?

It was ridiculous. There had to be a limit.

So, understanding how apprehensive he was, you would comfort him, tell him you didn’t have to do anything if he changed his mind.

But Steve surprised you, and he smiled timidly, seeming to cover his mouth with one hand while he simply looked at it.

He would exhale, almost as if he was chuckling. Nervously, of course. “It’s…”

“Yeah. I know.” Your apologetic smile put him just a teeny bit more at ease.

Steve looked at your cock, then at you, then at it again, one jittery hand hovering in the air close to your body. “Um…”

“D’you wanna touch it?”, you encouraged him. You grabbed his right hand with all the softness in the world. You leant up on your right elbow and laid your head on your hand, trying to transmit as much ease as you could to him.

“Yeah. Okay,” he answered shyly, and he shortened the distance until his hand was gently palming your half-hard cock.

Steve heaved in a breath. It felt…

It felt so similar, yet so different. New. Exciting. He stroked with an open palm up and down once, releasing a small titter at your pleased hum.

You would not leave him unattended, of course. Your own left hand slowly approached him, first resting on his folded left leg. Your big hand stroked up and down his thigh twice, hearing his excited shaky breath, and came to rest on the juncture of his leg and hip.

You looked at him, noticing he was biting his lower lip in anticipation. So you didn’t tease him anymore, and finally wrapped your hand around his erect cock.

Steve released a silent moan and his eyes closed on their own for one moment, until he felt your initial first strokes and just had to watch you. He released a disappointed little noise that made you smile when you let his cock go, only to go red as a cherry afterward when he realized his little slip-up.

You chuckled. It was clear that this situation was so new to him, so much so that he didn’t know how to handle his own reactions. “Cute.”

Steve tried to hide. Impossible. His pink flush covered every part of his head, down to his neck and hairy chest. “‘M not cute.”

You straightened until you were sitting up, used one hand on the bed and another one on his thigh as leverage, and closed up on him, until you were leaning into him. Steve looked at you from under his lashes when you did this, biting his lip in anticipation, because the point of contact on his thigh, so very close to his hard cock, was making it hard to think about anything else. “You are.” The other hand that wasn’t on his thigh then slid to the back of his head, and you ran your fingers through his hair. He exhaled heavily. “There’s no fighting me on this.”

That’s how you slowly guided him into a steamy kiss, at the same time that you took hold of his cock once more, feeling more than hearing his muffled moan against your mouth. You stroked him, softly, just so enough that he would push his hips towards your hand, aching for more.

You were feeling particularly mean that day. Your hand kept its slow pace and you felt just how much that agitated Steve. He withdrew from the kiss and gave you this expression, like he was all but holding in the biggest pout ever. You only raised your eyebrow at him, secretly thrilled at his neediness. “Want anything?”, you teased him.

“Yeah. You know.” Steve’s face was so pink. You knew how much of a novel it was for him to have to actively ask for something, rather than simply do it himself, if only because he was still getting used to this fun change of dynamics.

“Oh, but I don’t. Do enlighten me.” You got all close and personal with Steve by this point, noticing his averting eyes. “Use your words, baby.”

At that, Steve could only bite his lip. He mumbled something, too low for you to hear.

“Sorry. What was that?” You smirked at him, because it was obvious that he was enjoying being teased so much.

“Do it faster,” Steve reiterated, unable to look at you by then.

“Do what faster, exactly?”

Steve made this embarrassed noise, something between a grumble and a whine. He hid his red face in the pillow under him while you chuckled. “Stroke me. Faster.”

You bit your lip while he couldn’t see you. You thought it was too early to test the waters for it, even though you were extremely sure he was starving for praise, so you settled with telling him: “Good.”

Steve’s eye peeked from the pillow’s soft cotton when you said this, and you knew you had hit the nail right on the head, if the way his face softened when you said it was indicative enough.

Then you complied with his request. Steve went from an embarrassed mess to a shameless one after only a few seconds of intense stroking. He shifted on the bed until his face was fully visible again, and you were able to see the way it transformed from his pleasure before your eyes. With no clothes to act as a hindrance, he could feel everything.

And even then, he took you by surprise. Without warning, he started stroking you with the same speed you did to him. You met his eyes. He had a particular glint in his that led you to understand he was feeling competitive.

You raised an eyebrow.

He bit his lip, like he was holding back a smile, even as his moans were momentarily muffled. Then, he gave you that same verbal confirmation for your thoughts, even though it was quite far off from what you had been expecting:

“You want me to go faster? Use your words.”

But he said it with such a waver in his voice and with such a deep shade of pink on his face that you couldn’t help but cackle at him. Steve’s face turned pouty as you did, but he knew you weren’t being mean on purpose. It was just so fun to think that he wanted to return to his former place on top, like he was trying to flip your own game on you.

How wrong he was to think that you would go down without a fight.

You chuckled a bit more. “Cute.”

“What?”, he asked with a shaky voice, subtly pushing his hips into the tunnel of your left hand.

“It’s cute that you think you can win this game.”

Steve’s face got impossibly redder. He closed his eyes for a second while his mouth opened in a silent moan, but tried to compose himself afterward. You leered at him, each time more convinced that he did have a little bit of a praise kink. He steeled his face as much as he could afterward, intently looking at you. “It’s not— It’s not a game if you’re not even trying to beat me.”

You smirked. “Oh, so you want me to put up a bit of a fight?”

“I mean,” Steve started, trying to look nonchalant. “…if you’re not a coward.”

You chuckled lowly at him. Then, you got close to him, trying to blanket his body with yours, but he was ready for it and met you in the middle. He kissed you hard, attempting to overpower you. That made you chuckle within the kiss, something that made him grunt in something similar to annoyance in response. Your hand moved faster and harder on his cock, a heavenly feel to him as the amount of pre-cum he was leaking made things easier, resulting in an intense handjob, made all the more vivid from your rough and calloused hands.

Even as he moaned freely in the kiss, he was still trying to get you to lie under him. His hand imitated your own’s movements, though you could feel the slight tremor his was showing. He tried to overcompensate by opening your mouth and pushing his tongue onto yours.

You raised your eyebrows at this, but kept this little game he didn’t know he had lost before he had even started. On one twist of your hand, his hips pushed up higher up and his cock accidentally brushed against yours, making him yelp and making you grunt. You withdrew to look at him and noticed the redness of his face overtaking his neck and chest now. Clearly, he was trying to keep up, but the haze of pleasure was making it difficult.

Still, he pushed on and attempted to lay the expanse of his body on yours, still stroking you fast. It seemed like he forgot how much stronger than him you were, because you didn’t even budge an inch.

As this dawned upon him, you did the same to him while in his stupor, gently pushing forward to lay him down until he was completely horizontal on the bed. He put his free hand on your chest, and you stopped in your tracks, wondering if he wanted to stop.

But when he started trying to push you back and to the side, you understood it was all still part of the game. Steve’s face took on an annoyed expression, like he was truly bothered about not being strong enough to overpower you.

He decided to up the ante and released your cock, using now both hands to attempt to subdue you, opting to clutch your hips with his legs to gain enough momentum to toss you aside.

You didn’t move at all. Instead, all that did was rub your cocks together.

Steve moaned, starting to understand that it was a lost battle.

And you chuckled again, releasing his cock to hold yourself up over him. “See, I think it’d be easier if you just admitted defeat.”

Steve groaned, but it was clear that he was trying to hold back a smile. “Not a chance.” He thrashed on the bed, putting all his strength in his limbs for a strong shove.

He managed to push you aside for a second thanks to the momentum, but as soon as he wanted to imitate your previous position, you were on him again. You wrestled on the bed for some seconds. You were delighted with the small giggles he was releasing, knowing how fun this change felt to him.

You laughed back at him once you were just like before: holding yourself up over him. This time, your hands held his shoulders softly, but firmly, pressing him down into the mattress.

Steve’s hands shot up at you, but you quickly grabbed his wrists and put them to the sides of his head. When you did this, he quieted down, and his face took on an even darker shade.

You softened the grip on his wrists just to make sure he was alright with it, but he didn’t move them an inch. Instead, his body went lax under you.

It was such a heady sight. “I win.”

Steve blinked out of his stupor for a second. “Y-Yeah. I guess.” He tried to look annoyed, but he just looked like he was holding back a nervous smile.

“Do you surrender?”, you drawled out, getting close to him, close enough to breathe the same air as him.

His heart was beating so fast. “I guess,” he mumbled, trying to look like this was a hassle for him, but the pink on his face wasn’t receding.

“You guess?”

Steve gave you a look, like he was annoyed. Then, he thrashed once again, attempting to use the element of surprise to overthrow you once more, but you were prepared.

With the grip on his wrists, you held his writhing body down and turned him around on the bed, softly, an intoxicating contrast to what he was expecting.

Steve gasped, genuinely feeling small at the feel.

You managed to lay him down until you were enveloping his body with yours, your chest pressing against his back.

When Steve felt this, he gave you a moan he’d never heard himself make. His face was almost squished against the pillow, and the feeling of being utterly overpowered was making his thoughts go haywire.

You released his left hand while you gently twisted his right one until it was held against the low of his back. At the same time, your hard cock brushed against his right cheek on accident.

Steve gasped.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything weird right now.”

He was secretly relieved. You released his hand, which remained against his back even then, holding yourself up and your hips pushed off the bed just in case, so that your cock wouldn’t come in contact with him anymore. Steve noticed this but didn’t say anything at first, and he couldn’t after, when you took hold of his cock that was pressed in-between his belly and the mattress and started stroking it fast at once. He moaned loudly and freely.

“That’s it, baby. That’s so good.”

Steve moaned even louder at that. He didn’t know why that simple word made him feel all fuzzy inside. But you did.

He reached back with his left hand until he could touch your hips. “It’s— fine. You can…” He attempted to press you against him.

“You sure?”, you asked him; despite this, you complied immediately and pushed your hips against his ass, though you lowered your body a bit so that your cock wouldn’t be in direct contact with his ass.

“Yeah, but it’s— you can—” Steve pressed his face against the pillow from the embarrassment when he tried to push you higher up with his left hand behind him. “It’s okay if… but we don’t… Jesus, don’t make me say it.”

You chuckled. You pressed your body against him, angling your hips so that the length of your hard cock would be pressing between his cheeks, pointing downwards.

Steve almost shouted at the feel.

That was how you managed to make Steve feel even more helpless: your entire body pressed against the back of his against the bed led him to rut against your right hand in desperation.

You kissed his nape to give him some comfort. “Just this. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

The back of his neck burned with abashment. “Yeah. You’re right. I mean, I think. I mean—”

You chuckled and gave his neck more little kisses. He released a small titter because of his nervousness. “Trust me. You aren’t.”

Steve bit his lip where you couldn’t see him. You just kept stroking him, the feeling of being enveloped by you adding on to his mental haze. He tentatively shifted his hips to chase more of the feel of your hand, but in doing so he also incidentally rubbed his ass on your cock.

Steve didn’t know why that pushed him so close to the edge.

You’d never heard Steve make such a sound— he was all but whimpering deliriously. Steve realized this and covered his mouth with his left hand, grabbing onto the sheets next to his head with his right one.

He was so adorable. You knew he was embarrassed from his own reactions to this change. “Does that feel good?”, you grunted next to his ear as you shifted your hips to rub against his rear again.

Steve blubbered something unintelligible, legs folding on their own, as if he was close.

You cackled at him. “Babe. I asked you a question.”

“What— Ah, fuck— Y-Yeah. Yeah.” Steve’s was all but writhing on the bed by that point. “Wh-Why does it feel so good?”

“We can talk about it later. For now…” Your hand was a blur between his belly and the mattress while you rubbed your cock on his ass. “… I want you to cum just like this. Come on, sweetness. Make a mess.”

You knew just how nonsensical he got when he came on a good day. But you didn’t know this would be a strong orgasm, so you weren’t prepared for the way he moaned, almost like it hurt, when he had the most intense orgasm he’d had to date, spurting lines upon lines of cum, as if you’d edged him for hours. God. His face was probably the best part, but you couldn’t see him from your position. Such a shame. His little whines would probably embarrass him if he had more coherence that moment.

After coming like a literal freight train for what seemed like minutes, you knew he was done when he relaxed on the bed. His breaths were quick and deep, like he couldn’t draw in enough air.

Your hard cock was twitching from its snug position between his cheeks, but you ignored it for the while. Your mouth started making its way to his, starting from his nape, where you left slow kisses, until you reached his red cheek. Steve was too out of it to respond.

You lifted yourself off his body, and he still didn’t acknowledge you. You gently manhandled his body and rolled it around, until he was lying on his back on the bed, next to the frankly impressive cumstain on the sheets. Steve’s eyes were closed and his breathing only then started to return to normal. You kneeled between his parted legs.

Steve finally opened his eyes, seeming to just then realize that his position had been changed without his knowledge.

“Back on the land of the living?”

He breathed in and out a couple of times before he chuckled, shyly, rolling his eyes at you. “Jesus, dude.” Steve took in the hard cock that was looming over his own spent one, the heat from yours so strong that he could feel it in the proximity. He bit his lip, extending a shaky hand forward and taking your cock in it. “You’re still…”

“Yeah,” you answered nonchalantly.

“I… let me…?” Steve looked up at you in question.

As if he ever needed confirmation from you. “Whatever you want, baby.”

He steeled himself and started stroking you, slowly at first, but quickly building up the pace until his hand was a blur on you.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip. “Won’t be too long, now.” Your hips freely pushed to and fro within the tunnel of his hand.

Steve was taken aback by this at first, but the visual rapidly turned the feelings inside him into something fuzzy and hot and.

And. Big.

And when you moaned in that low voice of yours, it was like one of the few remaining notions in his mind were broken once again: the contrast between a feeble and feminine voice against this gruff and masculine one was unmistakable. He welcomed this change too much. He’d thought he couldn’t get any more flustered, but he’d been wrong.

As you leant down and held yourself over Steve on your hands and knees, Steve thought he’d never felt smaller than at that moment. His heart was pounding so hard from the feeling of being caged in, but he —even with his terrible experiences with being trapped, confined, restricted in any way— felt safe, not cornered.

You opened your eyes just in time to see another one of those epiphanies he continuously had those days. You smirked at him, and Steve glanced at you before his eyes strayed downwards again, mesmerized with the sight of your cock thrusting into his fist.

Which. Well. Might have been just the tiniest beginning of a second epiphany that day.

“‘Find out something new?”, you grunted out, already close.

Steve looked up at you once more, mouth opening but then closing, biting his lip in that shy way you were so familiar with. “Maybe…”, he mumbled.

You gave him a low laugh before you bit your lip and closed your eyes, face twisted in bliss. “Getting close.”

Steve seemed to breathe faster at that. He only nodded, almost enthusiastically, and his hand stroked you even faster. He gave you a quick sultry look, and you were left wondering what it meant before his left hand went under the one he had on your member, and rolled your testes with it.

You growled at him, hearing his intake of breath at it, before you lent forward, closer to him, hovering only shy of a foot over him. You opened your eyes to see him looking almost frantic, unable to choose between looking at your face or at your cock, before you closed the distance and gave him a short, steamy kiss.

Steve whined a little when you withdrew, because you were suddenly coming on his stomach, grunting from the release. He kept stroking you through it, drawing in breaths from his open mouth as you added to the mess on his stomach.

His cock valiantly tried to fill for a second.

Once you were done, you smiled at him, noticing his sheepish expression. You rolled to the part of the bed that wasn’t stained with his cum and lay down on your side.

Steve’s eyes were shyly straying away from yours, but he wasn’t able to look away for too long, always coming back to your own or to the mess you made on his belly.

You used the hand that wasn’t stained with his cum to stroke a finger across his cheekbone. “So? What did you think?”, you asked him, as you reached behind you without looking to grab some tissues.

“W-Well…” He looked adorable. He lowered his face down to your chest, so hopelessly trying to hide the blush on his face, but it was useless. He giggled against your skin. “It was… something.”

You chuckled in sympathy. “Baby.”

“Hm.”

“Was there any point where you didn’t like any of it?”, you asked, specifically thinking of the part where you were rubbing yourself against his ass.

Steve’s eye peeked from your chest. He bit his lip to hide a smile, even though you couldn’t see it from your position, and shook his head.

“No? None at all?”

Steve knew what you were referring to. His face only got redder. “No. Actually…” He looked like he was about to say something, but quickly lost his courage and hid his face again. “N-Nevermind.”

“It’s okay to be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

He grumbled, embarrassed. “‘M not embarrassed.”

You could only chuckle at that. You kissed his forehead, and Steve laid his head in such a way that you could see him. “Whatever you say. I’m just saying there’s a first time for everything, and I recall you seemed to like a certain part a lot.”

Steve kicked his feet against the bed and he— he whined. Like it physically hurt him to hear you say this. He mumbled: “And what about it.”

You openly laughed at him. He was just so fun to tease. “Nothing. Just saying. There’s a whole world of possibilities you might have not thought about yet.”

God. Steve’s face was steaming hot by this point. He knew what you meant, but he couldn’t verbalize it, the sole idea setting off many different reactions in him, most of which were welcome, but made his heart pound fast at the same time, gave him the shivers.

But you knew he was probably drained, so you took his silence as a gentle dismissal for the day.

IV.

That last memory could be named ‘The Beginning Of It All’, because Steve feels like something fundamentally changed in him after you both were done that day, him staying up for a while after you started dozing off, lost in his thoughts.

These same thoughts invade his mind at every point of the day the next days that pass. At work, at home —alone, like always—, while going to run some errands. He can’t get that particular moment out of his mind, and it makes his face turn so red to just catch himself starting to think about it.

Because, first of all, he’s still wrapping his head around it. It being the fact that you were right: there is truly a world of possibilities he hasn’t completely thought about up to that moment. It being the fact that he’s starting to wonder how… some things might feel, and Steve finds himself almost steaming from bashfulness when he can finally find the courage to put it into words:

Fucked. He wants to know how it would feel like to be fucked.

He runs his hands through his hair, across his face, over his mouth, anything to try to somehow erase the red tint his face gets when he thinks about it.

It never works, of course. At work, Robin gives him that squinty look whenever she catches the most minuscule shift from his normal skin tone to anything other. Like a shark to blood.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Stevie?”

“I know, Robbie. But maybe not this one?”

And his face goes the deepest shade imaginable after saying it and he tries to cover it, and Robin stews in her concern, but leaves it at that. She helps by offering to pull out the old reliable You’re Cool vs. You Suck board, to which Steve gently but exasperatedly refuses. Because he is cool, for once. He believes.

Some few days after The Beginning Of It All, Steve caves in. He’s just so desperate to know more about this particular fixation of his that has his mind going haywire, but he knows it has to be different.

He’s had anal with a few of the girls he’s had sex with, so he knows the difference between vaginal and anal penetration. Obviously. He won’t be able to involuntarily self-lubricate or dilate before being penetrated. He knows that.

He just doesn’t know what it entails. Before sealing the deal.

So Steve, in his eagerness to learn more, spends one of his weekend days travelling all the way down to Columbus, where he knows no one will recognize him, an almost two-hour-long trip just to have a semblance of anonymity.

How freeing it is, to be able to walk into a —though secluded— queer-friendly sex shop, just to buy a magazine where he’ll be able to read ‘Everything You Need to Know About Anal!”, and come out of it, full-incognito. He just hopes times will change in the future and he won’t have to hide so much for something so simple.

So, two hours later, when he’s back home and with a fresh new magazine in his hands that he treasures like a family heirloom, he gets comfortable on his bed after closing the door to his bedroom —as if his ever-absent parents would barge in at any moment.

And he reads.

Admittedly, the more he reads, the more he can feel his face start to heat up, albeit for a different reason now. Because he now knows what he needs to do. Before.

He giggles. He reads on. Discovers new things apart from the specific act of anal penetration, since the magazine focuses on gay sexual health in general. Is taken aback by a few things, mentally slaps himself on the face for not paying enough attention back in high school. Particularly reprimands himself for thinking that condoms are only useful for stopping pregnancies, hasn’t really thought about the possibility that there are sexual diseases and a whole epidemic going on, something that could have gotten to him even during the times that he would have sex with girls.

Finds out something that interests him way too much, another one of the things he glossed over at school, but is sure a lot more of his classmates would have as well:

‘The prostate. Just a quick stroke on this bad boy will have you seeing stars. Ask your partner to try it on you.’

Curious. Where is it, again?

Oh, right. Just about two inches into.

“Into…”, Steve mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He covers his face with the magazine and giggles, just like a girl with a crush. He lowers the mag until his eyes can peek from above it. His eyes stray anywhere and everywhere as he’s in deep thought.

Into. Steve hasn’t had any sort of stimulation on his behind other than some days ago, when you got him off while rubbing yourself against him, but he can clearly recall his own reaction to it. Such a strong response has to mean something. He just hopes it ends being all it was said to be.

His cock is starting to get hard from the thought. Just recalling that encounter has him feeling heady, growing inside his pants. Steve bits his lip. He lays the magazine on his chest and rubs the juncture between his thighs and groin with his hands while he thinks. The idea of fingering himself is growing more and more in his mind. He just has to give it a try.

A wild thought strays into his mind: the image of you thrusting two fingers in and out of him.

Steve releases a heavy breath. That vision has his cock throbbing.

He grabs the magazine and drops it beside him, on the mattress. Then, he quickly gets up and makes his way to the shower.

Previous preparations are done. Now comes the fun part. Hopefully.

Steve throws himself on the bed, still naked after the shower. His cock has remained on the beginnings of an erection all throughout, and it’s driving Steve crazy.

He settles until he’s half sitting up, half lying down on the center of the bed. He reaches to the side and opens his drawer, taking out the bottle of lube he has stored. Quickly, he opens it and pours a generous amount of the liquid on the fingers of his right hand, recalling what the magazine said about there never being enough lube for anal. He giggles a bit in the face of what he’s about to do.

With a heavy breath, Steve lowers his right hand down to his behind. He plants his feet on the bed to have a better approach. Then, he tentatively brushes his middle finger against the furl of his hole.

Steve bits his lip. It feels intense, and he hasn’t even started doing anything yet. He tries to relax, just in the way he’s read. Breathing in and out, he rubs the tip of his finger in circles, around his hole and occasionally venturing towards the center of it. Then, he steels himself, and starts pushing in.

He finds that the first finger enters without much trouble, perhaps a bit too easily, because he suddenly finds himself pushing it to the last knuckle on accident.

Steve gasps. It feels… equal parts good and weird. He covers his mouth with his free hand and giggles. He can’t believe he’s really doing this.

He waits for some seconds until he gets used to the feeling of his finger inside himself, and then starts pulling it out.

Okay. That feels downright weird.

Steve continues in spite of this, talking himself into enjoying this, trying to recall the feel of your hard cock rubbing between his cheeks. But it’s one thing to have another person do it to him while in a context where he was already hard, and another entirely different one to experiment with himself while he’s only now starting to feel pleasure.

He lowers his left hand to the discarded tube of lubricant on the bed. Steve does some gymnastics with his fingers, trying to open the lid with only one hand and to pour lube on that same hand, something that makes him spill some lube on the bed on accident. Oh, well. At least he gets some of it on his hand. When he’s done, he closes the lid with one wet hand and moves that same hand towards his cock. He encloses his member with his lubed hand, and that instantly brings him some pleasure.

But it’s not enough. It’s sort of difficult to stroke himself with his left hand, given that he’s right-handed.

Steve shakes his head. He thrusts his finger in and out of himself and tries to look for… anything that might give him some pleasure, but he simply can’t.

He thinks it’s because he only has one finger in him, so he puts his ring finger next to his middle one, squeezing together until he feels his rim give a little. It feels like a tight fit, but Steve pushes on, before he manages to fit the tip of his second finger inside him.

The stretch gives him pause. It certainly feels like a strain and it burns to a degree.

He doesn’t let that stop him and pushes forward, and he suddenly finds himself with two fingers inside him.

Steve breathes heavily. The stretch does something for him, but he doesn’t know if it’s something good or not. The only thing he knows is that his cock gives a little kick at the strain, but it’s too early to say if he really likes it, or if his body is just reacting naturally at this point.

So he waits and strokes himself slowly. His cock is only about half hard. Still, he holds on until he feels like he can move his right hand. He starts pulling his two fingers out and then back in at a leisured pace. There is undoubtedly something intense about the feeling. He keeps on thrusting slowly, in and out, still rubbing his cock at the same speed, and then starts a faster pace with his fingers.

Still. Nothing much.

He suddenly recalls what he read in the magazine. Right. The prostate. Two inches into.

Only, Steve doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel for. He presses forward, upward, but nothing really stands out.

Steve purses his lips, almost pouting. He was expecting something mind-blowing after the other day. He prods and thrusts some more, but it’s fruitless.

He reaches a sad conclusion: What if he doesn’t enjoy anal sex at all? Has that time just been a one-off?

Sighing, he pulls his fingers out, resigning himself to finishing himself with a mediocre handjob.

VI.

Steve’s dejected mood translates into most of his actions the next days. You’re the one who notices the most, when you visit him at Family Video today.

He’s alone in the store, Robin probably in the back room for her break, no clients in sight. He has his back to you, for once seeming to do his job and arranging VHS’s in a neat pile. That tells you all you need to know.

He senses someone behind him, but doesn’t turn around as he says: “Welcome. How may I help you?”

“I’d like the longest and horniest movie you have, please.”

Steve jumps at your voice. He quickly turns around, and whatever light scowl that might have been present in his face is instantly swapped for a nervous smile.

But you can see some slight tension on his face, so you say: “Don’t worry. There’s no other people here.”

“Yeah,” Steve starts, his voice almost tight, “…I know.”

You think his attitude is a bit strange. On any other normal day he would’ve been vibrating with energy just by having you in his proximity, but today it seems like he’s just subdued. Unhappy for some reason.

So you lean on the counter and notice his intake of breath, as well as the subtle reddening of his cheeks, something that will never change regardless of his mood.

“What’s got my pretty boy so down?”

Steve valiantly tries to grin at you, but it sort of comes out as a grimace. He hums. “I can’t really talk about it at work.”

You hum, too. “Wanna tell me about it after work?”

Steve bites his lip, like it’s a hard decision for him. Now you’re convinced that there’s something truly wrong going on. Finally, he decides. “Yeah. Same time as always?”

“Yep.” You subtly brush your fingers against his hand on the counter, the most overt thing you’ll try in public, knowing how nervous he gets about it. Steve sighs happily when you do. Then, you lower your voice, almost to a murmur. “I’ll give you an extra good time, just to see you smile. And, well. Make other sorts of faces, too.”

Your angel turns red. He giggles against his own shoulder, giving you the first display of genuine happiness.

You chuckle as well, as you turn to leave.

Later in the evening, Steve shows up in your doorstep, and you can’t help the way you practically drag him inside your house. He laughs when you do.

As soon as you close the door, you’re on him. Steve’s gasp is muffled by your lips, but he composes himself to respond in kind. You feel him opening his mouth to push his tongue onto yours, which surprises you, since he’s not usually the one to start such contact. Not that you’re complaining. You brush your tongue against his and feel his moan vibrate throughout your body. As if on instinct, his body presses against yours, but as soon as you feel the beginnings of a hard-on —which, surprisingly, isn’t yours—, he withdraws at once.

Steve gives you a nervous half-smile. “Hi,” he says, so shyly it gives you whiplash.

You chuckle. “Hey, there.” You lean down to give him one last peck on his lips. When you separate, you take his hand to start leading him further into your house. “Wanna sit on the couch? Watch a movie? Or…”

He stays in silence for some seconds, starting to look all too awkward for some reason.

You rub the hand you have in yours with your thumb, the question obvious in your face.

“Um…” Steve looks down, abashed. “Wh-Whatever you want.”

You purse your lips. “Hm. No offense, sweetheart, but that was the least convincing thing you’ve ever said.”

Steve chuckles. “You’re not wrong.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. That’s enough to get you going. “Well… we could…”

“Yeah?”

His face does a funny thing and he releases a titter. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

You want to tease him more, truly, but you feel as though whatever had him so crestfallen today might have drained him for the day, so you settle with: “Not this time, sweet thing. Let’s just go to my room so we can talk.”

“Yeah…” Steve’s face takes on a deep shade of red.

“Really,” you try to sound reassuring as you start walking to your bedroom with him in tow. “Whatever you want. We can talk… or we can talk.”

He laughs openly. “Right.”

You arrive at the door of your room. Steve looks at you, so bashful it’s almost painful to watch him.

You both cross the threshold. “Want me to close the door?”, you ask, knowing about his usual want of privacy, even though you lived alone.

He nods, meekly. So you close the door and stand in front of him, taking his hands in yours, expectant of whatever he’s going to say, because you know that he has it on the tip of his tongue. “Wanna lie down? Or sit down for a bit?”

Steve understands. He bites his lip. “Um…” He stays in silence for a while after that, so you take it as a refusal. You’re truly worried at this point.

You give him some encouragement. “Is anything wrong, sweetheart? Or was it that way at work?”

“Uh…” Steve looks skittish. You’ve never seen him quite like this. “I guess you could say so. But it’s…” He heaves out a breath and looks down. “God. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Anything you wanna tell me, baby, know that I’ll never judge you for it.” You rub circles on the insides of his wrists.

“Okay…”

God. He’s so quiet it’s almost creeping you out. You want him to say what’s on his mind so bad, but you don’t want to rush him, so you just stand there, awaiting his next words.

“So, um…” Steve purses his lips, feeling the tips of his ears burning. He still doesn’t look up. “You know the other day, when we, um…”

Your heart sinks. You’re so sure he’s going to say something along the lines of ‘I hated this and that and I didn’t want to say it at the time’. You just stand there, trying to not let the panic show on your face. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t notice, since his eyes are glued to the floor. “Wh-When we were…” He exhales, and it comes out a bit whiny. “It’s so hard to say this.”

You decide to put him out of his misery. “Something you didn’t like?”

At that, Steve looks up at you quickly in confusion. “Um. No? Actually…” He bites his lip, unable to even give you a nervous smile. “I, um… might have liked it too much.”

You try to not let the relief you feel be too obvious. “Oh.”

“Y-Yeah. So, I, um… I might have… done more research? And…” He whines from the embarrassment.

“Yeah?”, you encourage him, because this ‘research’ he’s talking about feels just too good to be true. “That’s amazing. What did you find?”

“Well…” Steve looks you in the eye for one second before he decides it’s too much for him, whines again, and hides his face in your chest.

You chuckle in compassion. You kiss the top of his head. “Go on?”

Steve takes a deep breath. He tilts his head so you can see some of his face. “Well, I kind of… tried some stuff.”

“Some stuff?”, you press on, almost desperate to know more. “That’s great, babe. What’s wrong with it?”

At the reminder that there is something wrong, Steve seems to deflate. “I’m getting there.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

He chuckles softly. Next, he encircles your torso with his arms, noticing how you’ve done the same to him. “I kind of… I don’t know… liked it but also didn’t, so it was kind of disappointing. And I got really bitchy afterwards because I thought I had it down.” Steve looks up at you with the saddest, most adorable eyes from his position on your chest as he kept speaking freely. “And I’m also kind of mad at myself because I think I did it right, but it wasn’t what I expected. And…” He seems to get shy again. “And I wanted to… do more… with you… but I don’t know if I’m doing it wrong, or if it’s something I really don’t like.”

You card your fingers through his hair, knowing how hard it is for him to talk about something like this. You lift his head, with your right hand under his chin, and let his pretty face look at you. “You’re so brave for telling me this, honey.” You give him a slow, sweet kiss on the lips that seems to soothe his nerves. Now, you let him know just how supportive you are. “Just to make sure, is this something you want to like? Or is it something you feel like you have to like to make me happy?” You raise your eyebrow at him, jokingly scolding him, and he knows what you’re about to say, because he looks equally exasperated and amused. “What did we say about expectations and roles?”

“I know,” he says, a small genuine smile on his face. He bites his lip. “I want to like it. For myself.”

“Good.”

Steve unconsciously catches his breath at that and carries on. “I’m just not sure if I’m doing it right.”

“Okay,” you conclude. “So let’s get this straight: you’re talking about…” Your hands lower down his back, until your fingertips are touching the rim of his pants. “Playing with this?” They stray lower, until you can feel up his cheeks on your hands, over the denim. “As in, anal?”

Steve’s face gets so red once the word is out. He nods.

“Okay. Did you use a toy? Or fingers? Something else?”

He hides his face in your chest again. “F-Fingers.”

“Cool. What did it feel like?”

Steve’s eyes stray downwards, and he chews on his lower lip, trying to find the words. “It was… sort of intense? It was kind of good but also weird. And I was expecting it to feel a lot better since, you know…” Steve looks like he’s about to break into nervous laughter. “But… I don’t know what I was expecting, honestly.”

You purse your lips in thought. “Did you reach your prostate?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. I know about it since I read— I mean… during my research…” His lips tremble in a shy smile.

You chuckle. He was just so adorable. “What would this research be, if I may know?”

“Well. Kind of… a magazine?”

“Ooh. And did it tell you where it was?”

“It did. But I just couldn’t find it for some reason.”

You hum while carding your fingers through his hair. You’re almost sure this entire talk might be doing something to Steve, but you don’t want to push just yet. “That might be a very good reason why you didn’t like it that much. The prostate is extremely important for this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. If you’ve never felt naturally inclined to do any sort of anal play, it’s most probable that you might not feel pleasure just from anal itself. You’d need something more.”

Steve puts the tiniest bit of space between you two to look at you better. In doing so, you notice his state of arousal, which proves that he is a bit pent up over this.

When he realizes this, he shifts in place, subtly trying to cover himself, looking at you sheepishly.

You chuckle, grabbing his chin and laying a hot kiss on his lips. “Baby. ‘This talk doing something for you?”

Steve bites his lip and shyly nods.

Your hands tentatively slide under his shirt, resting on the sides of his hips within it. “Tell you what. Someday… if you want, that is… I could help you with this. We could play a little to see if we find a fix.”

At this, Steve sucks his lips into his teeth, like he’s trying not to laugh, and his face takes on a deep shade of pink. “Um… well…”

“Yeah?” You’re eager now, knowing he’s onto something.

“You could… right now, if you want?”

“Oh, babe.” Your hands slide underneath his polo shirt until they reach the middle part of his back. “You mean…?”

“I… kind of… today, I… before I came here…” Steve fidgets with the rim on the back of your shirt. “Again. W-With fingers— Like— I tried to see if…”

You give him a steamy kiss to put him out of his misery. He whines lowly within it, and moans when you open his mouth to rub your tongue against his. You separate too soon for his liking. “Yeah? Played with yourself?”

Steve is so abashed he can only nod.

“That’s so hot. I bet you’re so pent up right now.” Your hands return to the rim of his polo, and start pulling it up to his midriff, looking at him in question, to which he eagerly nods. You take off his shirt and leave it on the bed.

He’s on you the moment you return to him. His sudden kiss leaves you breathless, but it only makes you chuckle. His jittery hands pull at the rim of your shirt and you comply, quickly taking it off.

After some moments of haste, you’re both completely bare to each other, returning to that prolonged kiss you can’t get enough of. Your hands stray lower and lower down his back.

You withdraw long enough to breathe out: “Cool if I do this?”, before lowering your hands to the top of his cheeks.

Steve gasps. He nods, almost vibrating against you.

You chuckle, and take each of his glutes in a firm handful each.

He whines as you play with him, looking at you from under his lashes. You lean forward, and lay heavy kisses down his neck.

“Oh, fuck.” A little bite has his legs twitching on the floor. “Fuck!” A long lick from the hollow of his clavicles to the side of his jaw while you massage each handful has him moaning intelligibly.

Two fingers of your right hand suddenly rubbing against his hole have him jumping almost a foot in the air. “Okay?”

Steve’s moans are airy. “That’s…” He breathes in and out as you rub up and down the sensitive skin. “G-Good.”

You finish this with a steamy kiss on his lips, before laying your hands on his hips. “Let’s go to the bed?”

“Yeah.”

After you’re done leading him to the side of the bed that has the night table next to it, you both sit down and continue kissing and caressing each other for some seconds.

You know Steve’s impatient. You have to make this good for him, have to prove to him that he could totally like this, so, after you withdraw from his lips, without taking your eyes off him, you reach out and open the drawer, taking out a tube of lube and a condom.

Steve’s eyes land on the square packet, almost nervously.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

He bites his lip. “Um… what is it, then?”, he asks, apprehensively.

“Let me tell you.” You leave the objects in the space between you and Steve on the mattress. With your right hand, you shift Steve’s legs to part them. He lets you, albeit hesitantly, unsure of what you’re planning. You grab the condom and show it to him. “Sometimes, people who have any sort of anal play with others might use condoms for whatever they’re gonna be inserting into the other, even if it’s not a dick.”

“Really?”, he sighs out, almost relieved.

“Yeah. They might use it for toys or even fingers. So I’m asking you now: do you want me to wear this when I’m fingering you?”

Steve’s face burns at your bluntness, but he takes the time to think it over. “Hm. Is it necessary?”

“Not as much as it is for anal sex per se. Depends on how worried you are about contracting STI’s, which is pretty much a null possibility. Our results looked pretty good, if you ask me.”

Indeed. The doctors cleared you both something like a week ago.

“It’s whatever you want, babe. I’m okay with either.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Maybe you could not wear it? I kind of… need to feel it properly if I’m gonna be doing it later on my own.” Steve turns giggly as his face darkens.

You chuckle as well. “Now, that’s a pretty picture.” You start leaning forward into Steve, hearing his giddy intake of breath when he feels you rearranging him on the bed, until he’s half lying down in the center of it. You muse for a second. “In fact… I’d be totally okay if you tried that right now.” Steve’s mouth quirks in a demure smile. “You know, to see what you’re doing wrong.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Just for that.” He bites his lip, pink on the face, because he will do it, just because your encouragement makes him all warm inside. He grabs your lube, pouring some on the fingers of his right hand, and then leaves it aside. “Fair warning, though. It might be kind of unsexy. I’m gonna be flagging.”

“That’s normal. It’s not easy to remain hard just from anal.”

He smiles. “Yeah, well…”, he trails off.

And he starts. He lowers both hands to the area near his groin, his left one going for his cock, stroking himself in order to relax, before rubbing the lubed fingers of his right hand on his hole. He exhales.

You wonder at the sight. Steve lightly squirms from your pointed gaze, but he continues on nonetheless. His middle finger enters him without much trouble, due to having played with himself previously. He doesn’t make much noise, apart from the occasional exhalation.

“How’s that feel?”, you ask him.

“Underwhelming.” Steve’s expression resembles a grimace, but he valiantly tries to give you a little grin. He quickly makes way for a second finger, which takes a bit longer to enter, but when he does, you can see the subtle shift in his features. He looks like it’s a bit of a strain for him. “It feels only sort of better right now.”

“Because of the stretch?”

“Yeah.”

You hum. The visual is breathtaking. If only Steve could see himself right now, he’d know that you don’t need much more than this to go. Still, you feel kind of bad for thinking this when he’s clearly not enjoying it thoroughly. “Try to search for your prostate. It should feel like a spongy patch.”

“I’m trying, now.” Steve shifts his hand, probably moving his fingers inside him.

After some seconds, you see his shoulders slump.

“I can’t.” He sounds petulant about it.

You click your tongue. “Poor baby. Maybe I could do it for you?” And his face takes on the red hue it’d lost during his act. He bites his lip. “If you want, of course.”

Steve licks his lips. That certainly sounds nice. He nods, biting his lip as he takes his fingers out, wincing at the empty feel. Once they’re out, he looks around, hand hovering in the air for some seconds, before he lays that hand on his thigh, not quite knowing what to do.

You pull some tissues from the box atop the night table and give them to him, to which he looks grateful and cleans his hand.

“Just leave it there,” you tell him, and he drops the tissue next to him on the bed.

Now, you lean forward. Just as you were expecting, he gives you that demure expression before you take his lips in a slow kiss, opening his mouth just in time for him to lay his tongue on yours. You kiss him for some moments, rubbing your hands up and down his torso, playing with the hair on his chest and his nipples until you’ve got him panting against your mouth.

Before you withdraw completely, you bite his lower lip, to which he gasps. “Now I’ve got you all hot and bothered.” Steve smiles, head tilted down to his chest. “Were you all hot and bothered when you tried to finger yourself, too?”

“Sort of. Not as much as right now.” Steve parts his legs wider, something that has you ready to go.

“I’m flattered.” Still leaning into his space, sharing the same air, your right hand sneakily goes down his belly until you can grasp his hard cock. He breathes out, minutely thrusting up and down into your fist. Your fondling doesn’t last for too long. Your right hand releases his cock and slides over his testes, lower and lower, until you’ve got four main fingers resting on the juncture of his thigh and hip and your thumb against his perineum. “I want you to feel something.”

Steve gives you a heady look, heart almost beating out of his chest at the soft contact. “What?”, he whispers.

Your thumb presses against his perineum.

Steve’s body seizes. He gives you the prettiest, loudest moan, and his body curls into your hand for a moment before dropping on the bed, at the same time that you release the pressure.

“Fuck… What the fuck is that?” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you in wonder.

“That is your prostate.” You smile at him.

“Oh my God.” Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah. Now imagine that, but…” You muse for a second. “Ten times more intense.”

Steve gives you an almost panicked look, but you know it’s in the best way, because he finds himself muttering: “Holy fuck…”

“Now you know why so many gay men like to bottom.” Your thumb rubs the skin of his perineum without pressing forward, something that makes Steve antsy with pleasure. Then, your hand slides downward, until your thumb can rub against the tight furl of his hole.

Steve bites his lip to hold back his desperate moan.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, you’ll see. I bet I could make you come just from your prostate.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out. “Is that even possible?”

“Yeah. After this, you’ll be able to do it to yourself. Trust me. Once you start, you can never stop. It just feels so good.” Your thumb presses in without much intent; you only do it to hear Steve’s frantic breathing increasing. “With time, your body might learn how to get pleasure just from penetration alone.”

“Ah, fuck. I can— I can totally see it.”

“Yeah.” You lay a heavy kiss on his lips. “I could get you all needy when you do.” Your hand now rests in front of his ass, middle and ring finger rubbing up and down his hole. His legs twitch. “Make you want a real cock in place of fingers. If you want,” you clarify when you spot Steve’s big eyes glancing at you with something that looks like nervousness, which, in reality, is pure unadulterated want.

He nods fervently. He subtly pushes his hips towards you, letting you know how ready he is for you to start.

So you do. You quickly grab the tube and pour lubricant on the fingers of your right hand. As soon as you press the tips of two fingers against his hole, his hips twitch, and he makes the smallest sound that has your cock throbbing.

“Good. Let’s just start with one since my fingers are thicker.”

God. Steve seems to only now recall this fact. It only serves to turn him even more flustered. He nods.

The tip of your middle finger starts pressing forward. To be fair, it’s not too difficult to breach him, since he played with himself using two fingers before he arrived, but doing it himself is so different from feeling someone else do it for him.

When the tip of your finger enters him, his lungs seem to run out of air. He clenches harshly around you.

“I’m gonna need you to relax, baby.”

Steve pants. “I’m trying. It’s just… so intense.”

You understand him, of course. Your left hand goes to his cock and you start stroking him at a leisured pace.

He gives you the smallest moan. Once you feel like he won’t clamp down on you, you continue entering him with your finger, until it’s down to the last knuckle.

Steve keeps on breathing heavy, but there’s a small smile on his face. “Oh my God. That’s so…”

“How is it?”

“Better than on my own.”

You nod. “I wanna put two in before I start feeling for your prostate. I promise it’s gonna feel real good like that.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods with a blush high on his face.

You pull your middle finger out until only the tip is in. Your ring finger rubs softly against his rim, next to your middle one, before you start pushing both fingers forward.

Steve clenches down, gritting his teeth from the small strain.

“Hm. Can’t have you clamping down on me like this, sweetheart. How about you try to push out a bit?”

“‘Push out’? Oh my God,” Steve laughs, embarrassed. Covers his mouth but does as he’s told.

Your two fingers push in to the last knuckle way too easily after this, so much so that Steve’s left panting, his arms buckling and ending up having to lean on his right elbow.

“Oh my God,” Steve repeats. His cock is only half-hard by now; in spite of this, he feels it kicking at the stretch.

You still your two fingers inside him, waiting for him to get used. When you hear Steve’s heavy breathing calm down, you decide to start thrusting them in and out.

He clenches down and makes small whines.

“Too much?”, you ask softly, as you stop your motions.

Steve gives you a half-smile, half-grimace. “Hm… I don’t know, honestly.”

You think you see some of his previous frustration seep into his expression, so you decide to not tease him anymore.

Your fingertips press against the upper part of his walls. Steve bites his lower lip, knowing what you’re trying to do.

It takes some long seconds of exploration, but when it happens, it’s a sight to behold.

Steve shouts. His face is the best part: pinched tight in a perfect mix between shock and pleasure. His entire body twitches against your hand. His legs kick for a second, and his cock hardens in front of you, before he slumps against the bed.

“Holy fuck,” is all he can pant out, left hand against his beating heart.

“There it is.” You smirk at Steve, and he only has a brief second to catch his breath and look at you in euphoric torment before you’re suddenly thrusting right against that spot, focusing on bringing the most prolonged and intense reactions out of him.

And you certainly fulfill this task to the maximum, if the long, whiny moans coming out of your boyfriend are indicative enough. Steve grabs at his own knees to try to keep himself as open as possible, because the forceful twitches of his body have him closing them without meaning to, too uncoordinated to do anything other than suffer from pleasure. When he can’t even coordinate his hands anymore just for that, he has no option but to thrash on the bed.

This is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Steve’s expressions are some of the prettiest, most arousing you’ve had the honor of witnessing. The way his eyebrows pinch and his eyes shut tight, mouth open to let out airy moans, is something that won’t leave your mind alone for the foreseeable future.

Steve opens those beautiful eyes just in time to beg you with them to not stop, and you don’t need any verbal ratification to understand.

Your fingers move in circles against the bundle of nerves, and his legs shake so bad you’re afraid he might start cramping at any given moment. Steve is laid out on the bed, almost unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, unable to even open his eyes to witness this.

“Oh my God,” is all he can moan. It’s so endearing, the way he keeps his left hand over his chest, like he’s trying to will his heart into not beating so fast.

“Ever thought it could feel like this?”

“N-No. Not at all— fuck!” His left hand leaves his chest and goes up to his mouth, covering it, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I-It feels… Fuck, it feels kinda weird too, like I’m gonna…” Steve takes his hard cock in his right hand, gritting his teeth when he feels like there’s going to be a rush of something other than cum in any second.

You chuckle. “That’s normal.” You softly take his right hand in your free one, leaving it aside without much resistance. “Look at that. You’re all hard just from this. That’s so good.” Steve breathes out a series of short moans behind his hand after you say this, looking at you with a bit of newfound shyness, even now that he’s laid out, taking your fingers in him.

“Y-You think it’s good?” He squirms when you give slow, deep thrusts against his prostate.

“Oh, baby. It is. It’s so good. You’re doing so good for me.”

Sweet boy. Does he really think covering his face with one hand will hide him from you noticing his deep blush?

You give him the quietest chuckle. “Look at this for one second, babe?”

Steve lowers his hand until only his mouth is being concealed, looking at you while debating himself on doing it or not, but he ends up bringing it down to hold himself up on quivering arms while you give him short, less intense thrusts with your fingers.

He leans up until he’s half sitting up, looking at your wrist.

“Would you look at that,” you drawl out, pointing at your moving hand with a nod.

Steve looks. His cock releases a steady stream of pre-cum at the sight.

Because right now, he’s looking at you doing to him the same thing he used to do to so many girls: you’re finger-fucking him with the two fingers in the middle, index and pinky ones pressed flat against the sides of them.

Just like a girl.

Steve feels faint at the sight. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh, yeah?” You resume a fast, intense pace, your fingers making squelching noises when your palm meets his skin.

Steve his moaning through his teeth, unable to hold himself up anymore and leaning back on his trembling arms, on his elbows. His legs twitch restlessly, and he’s helpless to stop himself.

He grits his teeth not only at the pleasure, but at the intense feeling growing on him with each passing second. His right hand rests on his heavy cock. “I— I c-can’t— I really feel like I’m gonna…”

You know what he’s referring to. “It’s okay. Just let it happen. I promise it’s nothing bad.”

Steve trembles, writhes, sways from one side to the other one as he tries to fight the feeling. “I— can’t.”

The truth is, Steve can. He’s just too scared about the novelty of this one orgasm, because he knows it’s not going to be gentle on him, and it’s something so new it frightens him. The thought of its magnitude makes his heart beat even faster and has him terrified at the same time.

“Okay, baby.” Your left hand goes on his cock, and you start rubbing him up and down quickly.

“Ah, fuck— I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You chuckle. “You did so good, baby.”

Steve’s body starts curling in itself. “Ah—! Did I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Before Steve’s overwhelmed eyes, you slide down the bed until your face is at the same level as his cock.

“You were so good for me. You deserve a reward.”

And you just manage to give him a little suck while you stroke him and finger him, right on his glans, before his eyes roll back and he’s cumming harder than he’s ever had.

The noises he makes are so— animalistic. His face crumples in the most euphoric agony, and his body curls against your head, like he can’t take such amount of pleasure, like he’s trying to push you off.

But he isn’t.

He comes, and comes, and comes into your mouth, his orgasm seeming to never end, and his own body not giving him a second of respite. You just swallow as much cum as he’ll give you, because you just can’t stop giving him pleasure, either, still bobbing your head up and down in short strokes to prolong this. Your fingers haven’t stopped, either. You’re pretty sure you might be overdoing it by this point, but the way he can’t stop moaning and whimpering as you keep on rubbing circles against his gland tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

At last, his body stops twitching so much. He drops on the bed. You take this as your cue to lift off him, licking the last traces of his cum off your lips before you give his slumped face a smile, removing your fingers from inside him.

God. Steve’s eyes are so glazed over behind barely-opened eyelids that you wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t focus his sight for minutes after this. His chest heaves quickly on the mattress, left hand loosely on the left side of it, no doubt trying to calm down his thumping heart.

You can’t help yourself. You slide up all the way until you’re kneeling before him, and your right hand lowers to your painfully-hard cock.

He looks like he just got fucked.

Steve comes to only seconds after you’ve started a quick pace with your hand.

You chuckle at his barely-there expression. “That was a strong one, wasn’t it?”, you grunt out, already feeling close.

Steve’s breathing doesn’t get any slower than as it is right now. He reaches forward with a trembling right hand, hovering under your cock.

“Just rest, babe. You can barely move.”

“No, I… I need to. Didn’t even touch you yet.” He looks sheepish. “Sorry. I get so stupid when I’m horny, I forget to do anything else.”

You give him a wolfish grin. “That’s not a problem at all.” You feel a pull at your gut. “In fact, I’d say it’s hot as fuck. But if you really want to…” You take his lax right hand in yours and manipulate it until it’s circling your cock.

You then start fucking his fist.

Steve’s mouth opens in a silent gasp as he feels the friction of your cock thrusting in and out of the tunnel of his fingers. His spent cock makes a brave attempt of filling again.

Only a few more thrusts are enough to have you grunting, increasing in volume as the only warning you can give him before you’re coming long lines on his torso.

Steve gasps at this. The heat that hits his chest, along with the visual of your cock virtually fucking him, is enough to have him almost dipping into a gentler state of mind, something that makes him panic for the briefest second before he’s pulled out of that place when he hears you grunt out for the last time.

You didn’t notice his predicament, so when you come to and take note of Steve’s spooked eyes, you take his drenched hand in yours. “Babe, you okay?”, you ask him, concerned.

Steve nods, reassuring. “Yeah. That was just… kind of intense.” He chuckles. A blush sits high on his cheeks as he looks at you, at the same time that he brings his soaked hand close to his lips. “Now it’s my turn,” he says, albeit a bit uncertainly, referring to when you swallowed him.

“You don’t have to.” But fuck if the visual doesn’t make your spent cock throb again.

He doesn’t answer. Only looks at you with the most smoldering expression on his face while he opens his mouth, brings his cum-stained fingers into it, sucks, swallows, and…

Tries to hide a grossed-looking grimace. “Um.”

You openly laugh at him, dropping next to him on the bed while he still has you in stitches.

Steve hits you on the chest with that same hand while he pouts. “Don’t— fucking laugh, man. I was trying to have a moment.” But he’s trying to hold back a laugh as well. “How the hell did you swallow… that so easily?”

You try to calm down enough to answer. “You just get used to the taste.”

His mouth purses, and his grimace just makes you start laughing again. “Is that what I taste like, too? Jesus. I mean—! No offense.”

Steve can only hide his own smile with a pout when that just makes you laugh harder.

VII.

Steve’s newfound good mood is contagious. Robin is almost afraid at this point. She thinks his mood swings are so over the place as of lately that he needs some sort of emotional support. Continuously, she asks him if he’s really feeling fine, to which he answers with nonchalance.

He obviously can’t tell her exactly what’s got him so happy.

It’s not just a single thing. It’s not just the fact that you helped him overcome his frustration after being so pent up.

It’s also the fact that, yes, he recently found out that he could do it himself…

And yes. He can get aroused just from penetration alone.

In fact, Steve’s almost embarrassed by how much his libido has gone up these past few days, namely because he now actually craves penetration at times.

He bites his lip on his way home from work, pupils dilated as he fights to keep his hard-on down within the privacy of his car, because he wants it right now. He wants to use his fingers on himself, wants to keep adding to feel the stretch.

Wants to get ready for you.

So he doesn’t bother to get comfortable before he climbs out his car in a haste, almost forgetting to close his entrance door with key before going up the stairs, heading straight for the shower.

Steve is splayed on the bed and has two fingers inside himself, this time from his left hand, so that he can stroke himself easily with his right one. He’s done this exact thing every single day this week, attempting to imitate your movements from a week ago, hoping to replicate that glorious moment.

It’s never the same as if you were the one doing it to him, but it still makes him come harder than all the previous years before this.

Currently, he’s scissoring himself open, gasping out at the small stretch. He has his eyes to the ceiling, picturing you instead of him. Your two thick fingers felt so amazing in him, stretching him out so much more than he could with his own.

Steve recalls the feel of your cock in his hand, so big he almost can’t close his fingers around it completely.

Oh, fuck. He always forgets how big you are. The size of it scares him a little, but when he’s so horny like this he feels like he could take you, at all costs.

Still. He needs to prepare for it if he’s really going to ask you for it later.

So he pulls his two fingers out, until only the tip of them are in, and tightly presses his index against them, gently thrusting in to get all three of them inside him at the same time. It’s a snug fit, and he finds it’s more difficult to add something as scant as a single finger inside, but he presses on.

It burns, but Steve manages to push three fingers in to the last knuckle.

And then, he wants more. Because the stretch, which has become more intense now, sets off different reactions in him that he could have never imagined.

And so he doesn’t wait long enough to get used to the current stretch, and he tries to push in the last finger, his pinky one into himself. But he finds that it’s sort of too much, the strain he puts on himself causing mixed, overwhelming sensations, but even that doesn’t stop him.

With a great amount of mental effort, he slips the last finger into himself, and—!

And it’s such a big stretch that it has him hissing behind gritted teeth, and it still doesn’t stop him as he starts thrusting in and out of himself, not waiting to get used to the pressure as he strokes his cock faster and faster—

Steve cums without even reaching his prostate. He feels his hole clench repeatedly, tight around his own fingers, at the same time he releases onto his chest, heaving in gasps from an open smiling mouth because it feels so good.

When he’s done, he slumps against the bed, fingers pulling out but pushing in one last time as he feels an overwhelming current of painful pleasure from it, and isn’t that an idea for another time?

At last, he pulls out completely, a resolute thought resounding in his mind:

Steve needs you to fuck him.

He doesn’t even attempt to wait in order to not look so pent up. He calls you only one hour later.

He breathes out: “Hi,” before you can even exchange greetings and ask who it is.

“Hey, baby,” you chuckle. “You sound eager.”

“Well… maybe.”

You hum in agreement, now eager as well, sensing he’s going to say something you’re going to like a lot. “Why would that be?”

“Um… well, you see…” The way he’s speaking tells you he’s probably blushing; you just know him like that. There’s a brief silence after this, before he continues. “Can I… If you’re free, I mean…”

“Yes?”, you say teasingly.

“I was… I was wondering if I could…”

“Yeees?”

You hear something that sounds like a mix between a whine and a groan. “You’re going to make me say it.”

“Yep.” Your voice now takes on a lower, more smoldering quality. “If you want something, you have to ask for it, baby.”

There’s an intake of breath on the other side of the line. Then, the smallest of whimpers. “Okay,” he croaks out. “Do you think I could come over?”

“Sure. Movie, snacks, and cuddles it is.”

He’s so fun to tease. You obviously know what he wants, but it’s just so fulfilling to hear the petulant groan he gives you. “Not what I meant…”, is his almost inaudible response.

“Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat it for me?” Your face hurts from the way you’re smiling so widely.

On the line, he groans, and you hear a series of… taps?

Oh, he’s probably kicking his feet against the floor, just in the way he does when he’s so abashed it physically hurts him.

You openly laugh at him. “Alright. No more teasing. Come over already.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Just don’t stretch yourself too much. I wanna have my fun, too.”

“Holy fuck—” is the last thing you hear before he hangs up on you.

You’re left laughing loudly.

At last, Steve steps foot on the threshold of your house, finally about to get what he’s been aching for.

He raises his hand to knock, but he’s taken aback when the door opens in his face before he can do so.

It seems he’s not the only eager one.

“Hey, there.”

“Hi,” he answers, bashfully. It hits him only now, that he’s about to do this. He tries to cover it with a smug expression. “Were you waiting for me behind the door?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Nooo. Why would you think that?” You put your right hand on the low of his back to guide him in before he can answer. “Just come inside already.”

Steve snorts, and his face takes on a deep shade of red as he mumbles: “Pretty sure that’s my line— I mean.”

You give him a wolfish smile. You close the door, and immediately you push him against it, leaning into his space without kissing him, only giving him a pointed look that he squirms under. “You know, you’re being a lot more overt than usual, did you know?” You lean down, your lips almost brushing his. “Why’s that? Hm? Something on your mind?”

Steve makes that shy, quivering smile and tops it off with the straying eyes. It might be seen as part of this little game, but you know Steve well enough to know that he’s feeling truly bashful right now. “You know what it is,” he whines out.

“Hm, but I don’t. I think you should spell it out for me.” Your right hand goes under his chin. You tilt his head to be facing yours in a better way, using your thumb to rub against his skin. By this point, you’re positive that you can try out something related to his glaring praise kink. “Eyes on me, sweet thing.”

He moans airily. Steve looks at you, seeming to want to obey you at all costs, even if that makes his face burn and his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

“Tell me, baby.” You speak with your mouth directly onto his, in a sensual caress of sorts.

Steve heaves out. “I— want you to fuck me.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, you push your lips onto his in a steamy kiss that has him closing his eyes from the intensity. His arms wrap around your neck, hands going down your back to grab at whatever part of your shirt he can. Your hands, conversely, hold onto the sides of his hips, quickly sliding under his polo to stroke up his ribs.

He moans within the kiss, which finishes too soon for his liking.

“That’s so good, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”

Steve almost yells from how loud he moans. Rushes to lean his face on the side of your neck, almost mortified by his own reaction. The tip of his right shoe kicks softly against the floor.

You chuckle next to his ear. “You like me calling you ‘good’?”

He doesn’t remove his face from your shoulder; he only nods against it, blushing so hard you can see it spread down his nape.

You chuckle against his ear. “That’s good to hear. Now, be good and follow me to my room.”

Steve’s eye peeks from against your shoulder. He’s feeling so sheepish he almost can’t speak. “Okay,” he croaks out lowly.

You lean back some until he can no longer hide into your neck, enough that you can see the deep shade of pink his face has taken. Your right arm goes around his waist now; you use this leverage to lead him towards your bedroom. “Feeling fine?”, you have to ask while you walk, because you know that this is a very big step, and that he probably needs the highest level of reassurance.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I just… You’re kinda making me feel the way I probably made girls feel.” He laughs nervously.

You chuckle as well. Once you’re behind the threshold of your bedroom door, you close it, noticing his low intake of breath at the action. “What’s that mean?”

“Just…” Steve’s hands find yours and he plays with them to anchor himself. He shakes his head shyly, his foot twisting, like he doesn’t want to answer.

“Small?”, you venture, and his little nod and bite of the lip confirm it. That makes you smile. “That’s fine.” You rub his hands with your thumbs. Then, you pull him closer to the bed. “I’m here to make you feel nice and safe.”

Steve looks up at you with a small shaky smile. He closes the distance, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “Thanks.”

He blushes when you chuckle at him. “Don’t thank me over that. It’s just my duty.” And he’s left breathless when you slide your hands under his polo shirt, high enough to start lifting it up to his middle. “Now… how about I take off your clothes so I can make you feel real good? Hm?”

At his shy nod, you slide his shirt up and off him, immediately going for his lips after it, gliding your rough hands over his torso, playing with the hair on his chest. Steve moans inside the kiss when he feels you thumbing at his nipples. When you withdraw, your mouth finds its way to the right side of his neck, leaving hot trails with lips and teeth. He moans softly, grabbing at the rim of your shirt and pulling it up with eagerness. You chuckle at him. You allow him to pull it off you, and the moment it’s on the floor, the pounces on you just like you’ve done to him. Steve attacks your mouth with an impatience you haven’t seen before, but that’s fine. That just makes you smile within the kiss, because you’re so glad Steve’s found something he likes that you can both passionately agree on.

Steve pulls back from the kiss, flushed, but raising an eyebrow at your obvious smile. You decide to distract him, feeling for his button and zipper, and you fulfill this mission, since you can see and hear his enthusiastic response to this. Quickly, you undo the front of his pants, and before you pull them down, you take Steve by the shoulders and gently push him down the bed, until he’s sitting down by the end of it. His hands support his weight behind him, and for this brief second, he looks up and up at you, because you standing before him forces him to lift his head to look at you, and he feels so hazy he has to subtly cross his legs at this, mindful of his now fully-hard cock tenting the front of his jeans.

But you don’t let him. Your hands push his knees outwards at the same time you lower yourself to kneel before him, and this vision has him gasping out and leaking just from that.

You wink at him from your position on the floor. Swiftly undoing his shoes and taking them off, your hands reach forward for the rim of his pants, and as he looks at you in a daze, your fingers hook right under the edge of his underwear, and you start pulling his lower garments down at once, giving him a gruff little laugh when his very hard cock is released from its confines with a small rebound.

When it’s off him and he’s bare before you, you lift yourself up using his thighs as leverage and start leaning towards him, in a low prowl, until you’re hovering over him with your hands on the sides of his head.

Steve’s nervous hands jitter down your torso, all the way to the rim of your own pants, and he makes quick work of the button and zipper. He pointedly looks at his hands, so as to not lose his nerve at your searing gaze. When he’s done, he ventures a quick glance at your eyes, but quickly looks down again as he starts slipping your lower garments off you.

You haven’t stopped looking at him throughout this. Your eyes just can’t leave his rosy face and nervous bites of his lips as you shift above him to help him undress you.

Once you’re both nude, it seems to hit him that you’re both going to do this. Steve’s demeanor changes into one of agitation. He finally looks at you, a nervous, quivery smile on his mouth, though you understand that he’s looking for reassurance now, which you’ll easily give to him.

You lower your head to his and kiss his worries away. “Let’s start slowly, yeah?”, you say, almost in a whisper, all but reading his thoughts, since his torso seems to deflate at that.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

There’s a little grin on your face now. You lean back to let Steve rearrange himself on the mattress, until he’s lying in the middle of it with you on top of him.

Your hands rest on top of his knees, sliding all the way down to his groin, but before they get there, Steve lays his own on top of yours. “Wait. Before we start…”

“Yeah?”, you ask, about to be concerned.

“Um… W-Well, you said on the phone… But I’d already— Uh…”

You exhale a laugh at his little stammering. “What, sweetheart?”

“Uhhh…” Steve smiles shakily. “Y-You said…”

“I said…?”

“You s-said… you wanted to have your fun, too, but I’d already— By that point, I’d…” Steve covers his nervous giggle with his right hand and looks elsewhere.

A heavy current of pleasure drops down your belly. “Oh, baby.” Your hands lower to the juncture between his legs and groin, fondling the surrounding place without giving him what he wants, to which he whimpers. “Did you stretch yourself?”

“Ah— I mean… I called you like an hour after that?” His voice is nothing more than a whisper now.

He tries to hide from the weight of your gaze behind his hands but—

Your hands hold onto his wrists. You gently push them against the sides of his head.

Steve’s eyes glaze over.

“How many?”, comes your rumbling voice.

And he has to inhale heavily, in vain, because his response comes as a whisper. “Four.”

You use the grip on his wrists as leverage to push yourself onto him, and he allows you and welcomes you into his open mouth. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, and he has the frenzied realization that you’re virtually fucking his mouth with it.

Steve cries out. His eyes roll back as he feels himself leaking.

He tries to prolong the feel, but you pull back too soon, and he finds himself whining at the loss.

“Got yourself all nice and open for me? That’s so good, baby.” Your heavy, grumbling voice against his lips has him trying to cross his legs uselessly, since you’re in the way.

Steve bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, moving his legs around to caress yours, urging you to do more.

“Why are you sorry?” You laugh while you take your hands off his wrists and lay them to the sides of his head. You think you imagine the disappointment in his eyes when you do this.

“You said you wanted to…”

“That was all talk, sweetness. I absolutely do not mind that we can skip that part and go straight to the main course.”

At that, Steve can only shut his eyes tightly and bite back a moan. He opens them just as quick, embarrassed at his own reaction.

You just give him a tight-lipped smile. “Not sure if this is gonna reassure you or do the opposite, but I’m pretty sure you still need more prep before we do anything else.”

Steve’s right hand rubs at his mouth nervously. “Oh my God…”, he mumbles, even though he has a small nervous smile on his face as his eyes lower to your big erection. “Right.”

“Right,” you echo with a contrite smile. “Did you forget about it?”

“N-No. Not at all.” Steve looks up and elsewhere as he mutters the following: “You have my word.”

“Do I?”, you tease, stretching towards your night table and opening the drawer.

Steve bites his nails as he watches you do this. “Mm-hm.”

When you have the objects you were looking for in your hands, you show them to him, and he centers on the one on your right hand with an hyperfocus you’ve seldom seen on him.

Steve’s eyes rest on the condom packet with apprehension and excitement at the same time.

You lay it and the tube of lubricant on the bed, between his open legs, next to you. Leaning down to rest a quick kiss on his bitten lips, you run the fingers of your right hand through his hair. “Whenever you want to stop, just say so.”

“‘Kay,” he whispers bashfully.

You lean back, staying in a kneeling position between his parted legs, and smirk at him. “Now, I would totally like to know more about this little bit of playing you did before you came here,” you say as you open the lid of the tube.

Steve covers his mouth with his right hand as he giggles. “What’s there to know?”, he asks shyly.

You pour some lube on your right hand and rub your hands together to warm it up. “Just fun stuff. Did you find your prostate?”

Steve looks elsewhere with a shy smile. “No. I mean— Not today.” His right hand lowers to his chest, resting atop his thundering heart.

“Hm? Then how…?”

“Just…” Steve clenches his eyes shut as he giggles nervously. “Just from my fingers.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your right hand lowers to his entrance while your left hand goes to his hard cock. You don’t even need to stroke him; he’s already turned on enough from your previous teasing. “Just from the penetration alone?”

Steve nods meekly. Then, as he feels your fingers spread the lube on his already tender entrance, he lays his left hand on your wrist. “I… Let me touch you, too. Don’t wanna leave you hanging like the last time.”

You chuckle. He’s just so sweet for you. You can feel his hand shaking. Lifting your left hand from his erection, you rub the unlubed knuckles from that hand onto his own. “Let me be selfish, yeah? I wanna make this about you today.”

It’s really telling for you that he doesn’t insist. “Okay… You sure?”

Your middle and ring finger prod at his hole, leading him to gasp in short breaths. “Yes. Just leave it to me, sweetheart.”

He nods resolutely, then.

Now, at the same time that you start pushing in the two fingers in the middle, your hand returns to his hard cock, which hasn’t gone down at all— You think it might actually be harder now. Steve’s jaw drops open when he feels your two fingers start pushing in, almost easily from how much he’s stretched himself before he arrived here. Even that initial stretch feels heavenly to him: your thick fingers fill him out so good, and they feel so different from his. Whereas he’s used to his own smooth, almost delicate ones, yours are hard and rough. Thicker, too. Steve bites his lower lip as you breach him to the second knuckle, choosing to still yourself to let him get used to this small stretch.

His legs twitch to the sides of you, rubbing onto yours in a sensual caress. “Come on…”, he mumbles.

“‘Want more?”, you ask, not waiting for an answer before you push the two fingers to the last knuckle.

Steve’s back arches in a beautiful curve as he gives you the most breathless and erotic moan. He quickly lets himself fall from it just to hold himself up on his hands behind himself, half-sitting up, all to see the place where you’re joined.

You give him a small chuckle. “Oh, you wanna take a look.”

He looks up at you from under his lashes, because he does. He wants to see, and he wants to feel the same way you made him feel so many days ago. Steve’s breaths are so noisy now; he can’t stop himself when he sees and feels the way you are thrusting in and out of him, two fingers at the sides of the ones inside him just like he’s fantasized about. His feet are restless, stirring next to you on the bed, increasingly rustling the bedsheets the faster you go.

Your fingers go softly now, barely coming out of him, just to rub circles along the walls inside him in a sensual massage that has him gasping out. Your other hand is barely a caress on his cock, knowing he now doesn’t need much more than your fingers.

The tips of your fingers suddenly press up against that spot. Steve’s body curls in itself.

“Fuck…”, he finds himself choking out.

His eyes are drawn to the place that connects you two, but he finds that he can’t keep looking for much longer, because you’re pulling him into a short kiss that leaves him even more breathless. When you separate, he looks at you impatiently, and his voice is nothing more than a whisper.

“Come on. Come on.”

You chuckle through your nose. “Eager.” But you pull your fingers out and press your index one against them, beginning to push in.

There’s a brief resistance, but as Steve breathes out heavily and wills himself to relax, you manage to thrust inside, this time with more pauses in-between.

Steve’s mouth opens to draw in as much breath as he can. Putting one hand on his pounding heart, he looks at you with something that can only be described as adoration.

You give him a little smile. Taking your left hand off his member, you lay it atop his own, on his chest, gently pushing him back on the bed.

“Relax.” Your low, rumbling voice is soothing for his nerves, so he obeys. He lies on the bed, growing more restless with each second that passes.

In a weak voice, he requests: “The last one— Add the last one.”

“You sure?”, you ask, knowing that he should get used to the current stretch, but you still thrust out until you’re at his rim, adding the fourth and final finger next to the other three.

Steve nods so eagerly you have to laugh.

With a lot of patience, taking his cock in hand to soothe him further, you begin to thrust four thick fingers inside him, meeting resistance right away.

Your left hand strokes him slowly, focusing on the head to bring out the greatest amount of pleasure possible. “You have to unclench for this, baby,” you mumble out.

Right after, your right thumb presses against his perineum, drawing a startled moan out of him. You feel him clamping down on you even further for a second, and then you do it again.

Steve hides his eyes under the back of his hand, already winded from this. He can feel himself surrendering to your touches, opening up to let the tips of your fingers thrust in, just far enough to breach him. “Fuck…” His moan is prolonged as he uncovers himself, looking at the general direction of your hands.

“That’s it…”, you encourage him.

Softly, you inch in, until you have four fingers seated deep inside him.

Steve heaves in a loud breath.

“There we go. So good for me, Stevie.” His moan at this is choked off when he feels your rough fingertips moving around in him. “Feels good?”

He moans again, but cuts himself off with a short cackle. “What do you think?”

That only makes you chuckle as well. “Yeah, I bet it feels real good.” You start pulling out, loving the way his legs just can’t stay still. “Just look at how much you’re leaking, baby.” Your left hand focuses on the tip of his cock at the same time you thrust back in, drawing a small shrill sound from him.

Steve tries to look at the place you’re showing him. He does. He just can’t with the way you’re suddenly pushing up, pressing against that bundle of nerves.

He shouts.

His body trembles, his hands hold onto your wrist, his legs kick against your hips, and his own hips grind onto your hand, desperate for more of that contact.

You gladly give it to him. The more you rub circles and press harshly against his prostate, the more Steve’s resolve thins out. Sparks fly behind his eyelids as he tries to process the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, feeling himself slowly drenching your hand in pre-cum.

He can’t take much longer than this. He grabs your left wrist, stopping the movements of your hand on his cock. “N-Not gonna last if you keep…”

Your left hand leaves his cock. “Yeah. You probably can come just from my fingers, can’t you?”

And you press up inside him, at the same time you press with your thumb from the outside, and he wails.

He brings himself out of it with a giddy laugh as you begin pulling your fingers out. He rests his hand on his eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

Your smile is wolfish as you wipe your hands on the sheets, lean forward, and get closer to him. “Maybe.”

And then he’s uncovering his eyes, looking up at you as you take hold of the pillow under his head. Steve shifts to help you, and when he sees you bring that same pillow at the height of his hips, he starts biting his lip with impatience. He understands what you’re trying to do. With the help of his feet, he pushes his hips up, enough for you to slide the pillow under them, leaving him in a very vulnerable position.

You lean into him once more, and when your groins just slot together, he shivers, overwhelmed all of a sudden. You understand this, and push downward, taking his lips in a soft, soothing kiss he yields to.

Steve withdraws first because he needs to take a deep breath to not lose it. His hands grab at your shoulders, unsure of how to anchor himself.

“Need a break?”, you ask him, concerned.

He just shakes his head with vigor. Biting his lip, he wraps his legs around your hips, pushing you against him. You both moan at the contact.

You laugh. “Alright, then. Let me just…” You lean back, Steve’s hands falling from your shoulders and laying on his own chest now. You grab the packet, open it, and start rolling the ring of the condom on your cock, before Steve’s hands come to rest on yours. “Wanna help me?”, you ask.

Steve nods, unable to get the nervous smile off his face, and, with his hands under yours, he starts sliding the condom on.

Once his hand gets to your base and you’re done groaning about it, you grab the tube of lubricant and pour a generous amount on your member. You stroke yourself a couple of times before you inch closer to Steve.

And Steve looks at you with excitement and the slightest tinge of agitation before he brings his own folded legs closer to his own chest.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold yourself open for me,” you mumble, grabbing his right knee with your left hand and laying a kiss on it.

With your right hand, you take hold of your cock, and slowly, very slowly, start pushing inside.

Steve clamps down around you almost immediately. His throat chokes around a moan, and his legs twitch in your hold. “Sorry.”

You lay wet kisses on the inside of his right leg, your mouth twisted in a small smile. “Why?”

He chews on his nails while he looks elsewhere. “I dunno,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

That makes you smile. Your right hand leaves your cock, which is already fixed in place, ready to thrust in, and it goes around his cock. You stroke him softly for some seconds, loving the small changes in his expression, how gorgeous he looks with every single face you can pull off him. His small noises prompt you to keep stroking him, subtly pushing forward to start inching into him.

He clenches with each small inch you push inside, and as you manage to push the end of your head inside, he hisses between gritted teeth, and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Just… a second.”

“Of course,” you answer, stilling in place to let him get used to the stretch, which is quite a lot more than four of your fingers.

Steve’s eyes are also clenched shut, but after some seconds he opens them, looking at you from under his lashes, breathing heavily and quickly. He nods at you, resolutely.

You lean down to surround him completely, and his arms easily go around your shoulders, anchoring himself with you. Your mouth seeks his, and he meets you in the middle with enthusiasm, or perhaps anxiety. Steve pushes forward with his lips, trying to get the most of the kiss, and you open his mouth in turn, pushing your tongue onto his.

As you do this, your hips push forward minimally, starting to thrust yourself inside him while you distract him, but it seems to not work that well.

Steve pulls off you. “W-Wait,” he grits out. He looks at you with a grimace that he’s trying to conceal with a quivery smile, but you know him too well for that.

“Of course,” you say once again, because you’ll take as much time as he needs to. “Hurts?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but seems to lose his nerve and shyly looks to the side.

“Tell me the truth, baby.”

“Kinda…”, he mumbles.

You give him a small peck on the lips for reassurance. “That’s okay. Just tell me when you’re ready to go.”

Steve gives you the tiniest nod, too embarrassed by himself. Some seconds pass, before his restless legs rub imperceptibly around your waist, him looking at you and nodding. “Okay.”

You take your cue and start pressing forward once more, but once again, his arms cling tight around your neck and he yelps: “Wait!”

You’re halfway into him, and the way he’s clenching around you is almost sexually tortuous, but you obviously heed his word again. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Steve’s pinched expression eases up after a second, and this time, he gives you a genuine smile, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck to cover it in kisses. “You treat me so nicely,” he mumbles out, like it makes him bashful to say it.

You feel your chest soar at this. There’s a small, breathless chuckle coming straight from your chest right now. “Do I?”, you ask, even though it’s pointless, because you’re only showing him basic decency.

But your Steve still looks you in the eye and nods.

Another small chuckle, and now you’re leaning back. “Okay.”

Steve seems almost confused as your hands grab at the back of his knees, but then realizes what you’re going to do as you manipulate his legs until they’re crossed, and then place them in a right angle to his body, his ankles coming to rest above the left side of your neck. “What are we doing now?”, he asks, almost forgetting he still has half of your cock inside him.

“I’m putting your legs in a specific position that’ll help you relax better,” you explain, noticing his still-puzzled expression. “Your anus. This position helps you relax your anus.”

Steve bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands because it’s just rolling off him now. You laugh with him.

“I thought it was the other way round,” Steve says. “Like, with my legs open?”

“That’s for the pussy,” you answer, and you rest your hands on his crossed knees, laying hot kisses on the expanse of his shins. Steve shivers at this. “You ready?”

Biting his lip, he nods slowly, bracing himself once again.

“Alright, sweetheart. Remember to push out, too.”

Steve laughs, almost in a sob, because you’re starting to inch forward, and this position does help him a lot, and as he does as he’s told, he finds that what felt like something impossible is now too easily possible.

Your hips meet his ass almost too quickly, sending him scrambling for a grip on the bedsheets. He breathes in and out like he’s hyperventilating. His left hand is now on his chest, trying to calm his heart down. You lower your right hand to that hand and lay it on top of it, wanting to reassure him.

His expressions. God. His expressions are something out of this world. His eyes are closed, eyebrows pinched and mouth open to let out quiet moan after moan.

As soon as Steve opens his eyes, they stray towards the place where you’re joined.

“Oh my God,” he says, almost in a whisper.

“Too much?”, you ask.

Steve shakes his head. “Just… a lot.” He bites his lip to hold back his little noises whenever he feels your cock so much as twitch inside him. His free hand covers his mouth. “So big…”, he says, almost to himself.

“Yeah?” You teasingly move your hips a minimum fraction, and that is enough to have Steve gasping out and shifting his legs onto your shoulder.

When he sees your amused expression, he almost pouts, though it’s obvious that he’s trying to look teasing, too. “You’re mean. I thought you were gonna be gentle with me…”

His words make something hot and heavy settle deep in your belly. Your grip on his legs gets tighter, and he makes the quietest little squeak at it. “Yeah. I did say that.” Your right hand rubs up and down his left thigh, going down to his cheek and fondling it to open him up more. Steve makes a breathless moan at this. “I’m gonna be so nice to you, baby. In fact, I’m gonna go real nice and slow, just so you can see how gentle I’m being with you.”

He moans openly now. Steve finds that while he likes that idea, he also craves something different in the near future.

For now, he just nods.

So you start. Using your grip on his gorgeous long legs, caressing his left one down to his ass and back up, you start pulling out of him, hearing his long intake of breath. You do this until you’re halfway into him, and then push forward until you meet his hips again. Steve breathes heavily and quickly, his jaw slack as he tries not to succumb and close his eyes to the sensations. Then, you do this again a couple of times, thrusting out and in minimally, just so that he can get used to the stretch. His legs twitch every time your hips meet his rear. His left hand has returned to his chest, and you find this so endearing; you know how nervous but excited Steve is by this, so much so that he tries to halt his pounding heart however he can.

Now your hips are pulling back further, until only the head of your cock is inside him. You push all the way into him with the same slow pace. Steve’s expressions are something wonderful. You know he can’t help himself when he clenches his eyes shut at the pleasure, but still tries to open them as soon as he can every single time.

On the next thrust, you pull back, and this time, the head of your cock starts sliding out of him.

Steve hisses and clamps down when he feels the widest part of it breaching him on its way out.

You shush him and kiss his shins. “Relax,” comes your soothing mumble.

His breaths turn quicker, and his eyes close for a brief second before he opens them again, looking at you with dazed eyes and nodding.

You feel him gradually unclench as you’re pulling out completely, the tip barely inside him. Then, you push forward once again.

Steve has less trouble to take you in this time, if the way you’re easily fitting inside with a smooth thrust is indicative enough.

And once again, he gives you a breathless moan when you’re all the way in.

“Alright there?”, you have to ask, because you know of his tendency to hide his own discomfort at times. Luckily, he gives you a genuine smile and —this makes you laugh— a thumbs-up. “Alright, you dork.”

“Yeah,” he adds on. His flushed face now takes on a darker hue. “Actually… can you go a bit faster now?” He mumbles the last part, like it embarrasses him to say so.

You laugh softly at him. “Obviously.”

Now, you’re pulling out of him all the way, and pushing back in with a bit more force than before. This leaves Steve breathless, jittery, and blissed out all the same. So you do it again and again. With each thrust, your pace increases, and the friction makes his mostly-quiet moans rise in volume. What were previously soft noises of skin slapping begin turning loud too.

You’re purposefully avoiding his prostate. You think it might be a good idea to build up to it first, so as to get him used to the stretch before you do anything, but you know it won’t be a long time now.

Steve slowly parting his legs to bring them to the sides of you tells you enough.

“Tired of that position?”

He shakes his head. “Just…” He rises his arms to encircle your shoulders, face burning at this point while you’re still thrusting in and out of him. “…wanna hold you.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” You give him what he wants.

Steve’s legs wrap around your waist as you push in and out of him. The newfound friction of your belly on his cock has his legs growing restless, his moans pouring from his lips freely now. His eyes can’t stay open for too long.

He makes the effort just to look at you, long enough to let you know he wants you to kiss him. So you do. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss as you start going faster, small moans slipping from the spaces in-between.

Steve withdraws, already feeling breathless.

After some long moments like this, just thrusting at a moderate pace and looking at each other with — something strong, something that could shakily be called love, his face begins to show some signs of discomfort, too subtle to seem that way to any other person, but you know your boy well enough.

“Hurts?”

“Just my hips,” he talks in between moans.

You gradually slow down until your movements are minimal, something that seems to turn Steve antsy. You ignore this for a second, though there’s a smile on your face at his impatience. “Must be the position.”

You stop completely. Steve tries to not make such a loud whine at this, but it’s obvious that it doesn’t work. He blushes right after.

As you pull out completely, he makes the quickest yelp at the emptiness.

“How about this?”, you ask. Your hands softly grab at his sides, starting to manipulate his body in a way that lets him know you want him to turn around.

Steve blushes even further and starts giggling when he understands. He rolls over until his chest is to the bed.

“Just like that,” you grumble. “On your hands and knees, yeah?”

It’s a good thing that you can’t see his face, because Steve just about melts from pleasure at your words, and it embarrasses him so bad that he makes the smallest whine. He does as he’s told, though. This position leaves him feeling vulnerable and open, until you lie across his back and envelop him, making him feel safe now.

“Good boy,” comes your low mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops to let the quietest moan out.

Your right hand grabs your cock, and at the first contact of your tip against him, he clamps down once again. Steve bites his lip as he tries to relax, breathing heavily.

Slowly, you begin to breach him once more, feeling the small contractions around your cock. “Close your legs, baby.” He obeys, knees rustling the bedsheets, and suddenly you’re thrusting all the way into him again.

Steve lets out a loud moan, loud enough to be considered a shout. This position is… something else. It leaves him reeling from how much deeper it somehow feels, almost hurting from it. Most of all, Steve can feel himself surrendering to you, feeling so safe and loved.

His arms quiver, struggling to hold his weight already. At the same time that he notices this, you start pulling out only to push in with a strong thrust that makes him buckle and fall down to his elbows. Steve’s moan at this is something so erotic it has you throbbing inside him.

“Good to keep going?”, you ask him, and he nods enthusiastically from under you.

Now you resume that moderate pace you had before, only this time, somehow, it feels more intense. You hips slap against the back of his legs every time they meet, filling the room with the erotic sounds of skin against skin and his loud, airy moans. Steve can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He just yields to the intensity of your thrusts, feeling full to the brim with your big cock going in and out of him. His moans increase in volume the more you press down against him, because he understands what you’re trying to do.

Your hands rest on the high of his back, pressing down with gentleness. “Lie down.” You find just the tiniest bit of resistance, probably because Steve almost can’t stand the idea of getting even more pleasure than this. “Trust me. It’ll feel so good.”

So Steve shakily obeys. His arms go lax to his sides as he lays his chest on the mattress, his spine almost straining from the curve you’ve enforced onto him.

Your cock presses on his prostate.

Steve screams.

“Ah— Fuck!” His legs fold on themselves, and his feet kick against the bed as you continue stimulating him. “Fuck— Oh my God. Th-That’s…”

“Feels good, right?” You lay off his prostate for the moment, knowing it probably wouldn’t take much to overwhelm him if you kept on.

“Y-Yeah…” Now you can feel his quivering legs working to— to meet your thrust. “Again. Please.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your hips bear down with force on his own, and you know you’re hitting his prostate dead-on because his wails are so sudden and loud they almost scare you.

“Yes!” His jaw is left open in an endless moan, eyes clenched shut at the intensity.

The more you keep pressing down, the more you feel his body lowering, wondering why this could be, until you lean up a fraction and notice his legs sliding open on the bed. Your cock throbs at the sight. To know that he’s so turned on that he can’t keep up with you…

“Fuck— S-Sorry— Can’t h-hold myself up.” Steve confirms this same thought as he keeps moaning.

You laugh in his ear— It’s something almost mean that has Steve’s eyes wide open in a second. “Don’t worry about it,” you say as you keep thrusting, following him to the mattress.

Suddenly, your right leg is pushing his own closer to his center. Your left one does the same with the other one. As soon as you have him in the position you want, your legs press against the sides of his, holding them together tightly, not allowing him to open them to lie in a puddle on the mattress.

Steve screams at this.

“Holy— fuck!” He screams, he moans, he wails, because this specific position has your cock rubbing against his prostate on every single thrust, and it has you going deeper still, and he starts to feel himself lose it when it almost hurts when you reach the end of his walls on every thrust, feeling so small and almost bursting at the seams with it.

You know that it won’t take longer for him, so you keep bearing down on him, focusing on that bundle of nerves, feeling it increase in size the slightest bit. Your hips go faster.

Steve begins to feel the same way he did the other day. There is this very specific intense feel that comes from his prostate and has him feeling desperate, because it’s so different from anything he’s ever felt.

He knows he’s going to come just from this, and this time, though terrified, he’s ready for it.

“C-Close— Ah— I’m close.” He says this, and you kiss the back of his nape, your left hand going under his body to press against his pounding heart. Steve’s left hand presses against yours, intertwining your fingers. “J-Just from this!”

“Yeah? You want it?”

He nods so quickly it almost makes you laugh. “It’s weird. F-Feels so weird. I really— fuck!— Really feel l-like…!”

“Okay, baby. Let it happen. I’m right here. It’s alright.”

Steve nods, his face in such agonic pleasure he’s almost glad you can’t see it, because you’d probably feel concerned over him. “Okay. O-Okay—!,” he concedes, his heart beating faster at the mounting feeling.

The more you thrust against him, the more he can feel himself losing it, until the feeling turns so intense he almost can’t breathe.

“C-Coming— I’m coming! I’m coming! Oh my God!” Steve’s voice turns desperate.

And he screams.

His body seizes. A sensation he’s never felt before ravages his entire body. His eyes sting with a hint of tears at it. He feels a forceful tremble throughout his limbs, and he’s left unable to control them as he feels himself coming and coming and coming, so intensely it almost hurts, and in such a different way he’s almost ashamed, because he really thought…

But there’s no room for thoughts in his mind because he’s still coming, and he’s still moaning without noticing, shutting his eyes at the acuteness of the feeling.

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re squeezing me so hard— fuck!”

As Steve begins coming down from the longest and most intense orgasm of his life, he moans weakly when he feels your hips shuttering behind him, yelping at the warmth of your cum filling the condom.

After some long seconds of you groaning in his ear, which makes his hurting cock valiantly attempt to twitch, you pull out of him, softly, though it still makes him yelp, almost in a whisper, until you’re off.

Without the support of your legs against his, he drops to the bed in a helpless pile.

Steve’s chest rises and lowers quickly, still trying to draw in as much breath as possible and to calm his still-pounding heart. You lie to the side of him, your right hand caressing the expanse of his back to let him know you’re still there.

You know he’s not even processing this, too gone to even notice you’re not holding him up anymore.

But after some long minutes, Steve calms down enough and regains enough lucidity to shift on the mattress, feeling your hand on his back and sighing at the sensation.

With what you think is the biggest display of effort in history, his arms strain enough for his head to rise and turn to the side you’re on.

Steve looks at you without saying anything. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know what to say, or because he can’t, so you do, first.

Sliding down the bed to be at the same height as his head, you circle your arm around his back, and say: “Hey. That was a full-body one, wasn’t it?” You kiss his left shoulder.

He still won’t answer. You start getting concerned, before he smiles, bigger and bigger, until he’s giggling against the bedsheets. He mushes his face into the mattress as he does this.

You laugh with him, still not understanding if he’s too out of it and high on endorphins.

After some seconds, Steve stills, and his concealed face turns just the slightest fraction, just enough for his eye to peek, showing you that he’s sporting the darkest blush ever.

“Um…”, he starts. “Hi?”

And that makes you laugh even harder. “Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

Steve turns his head further towards you, biting his lip. “Good.”

“Good,” you repeat. “How did all of that feel?”

His expression is so cute to see now. It’s like he’s getting shy all over again after everything you’ve just done. His lips twitch, not knowing whether to smile or to bite his own lower lip. “Good,” he mumbles again.

You hum, almost teasingly. “Just ‘good’?”

Steve laughs, embarrassed, shoving your face with a weak hand while you laugh. “What do you think? Jesus. I can’t even move.”

You give him a wolfish smile, but contradict it when you wrap your arms around his body. Steve lets himself be surrounded by you, feeling small and safe in a way he’s never had before.

#steve harrington x male reader #bottom steve harrington #top male reader #dom male reader #stranger things x male reader #fic

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

Note

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake.

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him.

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ...

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start.

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

#I KNOW i didnt include Ned but listen I got other Ned requests LOL and we know what this man likes #might do more later if it comes to me #stannis baratheon x reader #roose bolton x reader #jorah mormont x reader #jaime lannister x reader #sandor clegane x reader #brandon stark x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #libra headcanons #got x reader #game of thrones x reader

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thatgirlwithasquid · 4 months

Text

Sometimes Werewolves Need Baths Too

4,374 words || also on ao3

Super excited to share this fic and art as my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race :D

---

The fur on Billy’s back is matted and tangled, clumped up with dirt and forest debris that itches against his skin infuriatingly. Every time he shifts he can feel it tugging at the roots of his fur, pinching his skin with every panting breath that clouds in the cold winter air that has draped over the woods like a smothering icy embrace.

It’s calm, though.

That’s something that life in the lab had never been, not even for a moment. Only pain, and suffering, and sorrow. Howling calls of every other child locked away and experimented on echoing through every empty room.

Living like this, feral and animalistic in these endless frosted woods, will always be preferable to the sorrow of that man-made hell. The air here, though burning cold in his lungs, is fresh and clear. The water runs free in its rivers and the ground beneath the pads of his feet is soft dirt rather than sickly impersonal tiles.

Freedom, out here, is something he would endure any dirt and coldness to keep. No matter that he’ll only ever be safe as a wolf out here, not a boy. He has made too many careless choices around his freedom before now, something he’ll be sure never to do again.

Hunting is difficult. Living in that damn lab for so long had stolen any wild instincts from him, save for that primal need to claw and bite his way to freedom. They could manage though, him and Eleven. They will.

Next to him, she finally catches up from their run and flops down into the crystalised grass, disturbing the frost there. With any luck, it can clean her coat some; or, at least better than Billy has been managing.

Billy doesn’t think he was made to be a big brother. It’d only been him and his mom against the world when he was younger, at least until his mom ran and his dad handed him over like some oddity to be poked and prodded in the name of science.

It’s not going to stop him from trying, because Eleven deserves better than this. Hell, she deserves better than him but he’s the best he can offer here.

Leaning down, Billy licks away a spot of dirt from between her ears. It ruffles the fur there and she huffs at him, kicking out a paw to bat at his leg.

Grumbling at her ungratefulness, Billy trots away.

There was a reason they were running out this way, after all. Hunting is hard, but begging is infeasible… save for one person.

It’s incredibly lucky for them that the Harrington residence backs directly onto the forest where Billy and Eleven have set up their little den and claimed it as their own. Otherwise they’d have never found him, and, especially in those early days, that was all that kept them alive. Without the young Harrington’s generosity, he and Eleven wouldn’t have made it three weeks.

Even after all this time, with nearly a year passing since they broke out, Billy can’t be sure if the Harrington boy knows what they are or just thinks they’re normal wolves. Nearly a year of running, and hiding, and chasing down rabbits to keep them alive and Billy still can’t even tell if the closest thing to a friend they have out here knows that they’re werewolves.

He smelled what Harrington was the first time he came across him, of course. Spending half his childhood shut away with other kids like him and a bunch of humans gave him a good basis for understanding what their kind smells like. It doesn’t matter that Harrington and his dad don’t smell nearly as strong as the werewolves Billy is used to, he can still smell what lingers in their blood.

And, even if he hadn’t, he’d have recognised it the first time the younger Harrington saw him, eyes flashing that familiar amber as he startled. The werewolf in his blood may be weak and distant, but it’s still very much there, and that’s enough for Billy to be certain and Eleven to take a liking to him.

The crunching of tires on gravel gives them pause, but, after pricking his ears, Billy is sure it’s just the Harringtons’ car pulling out of the driveway. Date night, he thinks. Which means it’s just them and the son.

That’s always preferable; Mrs Harrington had screamed the first time her son told his parents about the wolves he saw prowling out the back of their garden. She wouldn’t be happy to know her son feeds them when hunting comes up sparse, and even if Mr Harrington is indifferent Billy doesn’t think he’s unlikely to take his wife’s side.

The teen likes them, though.

His face splits into a hesitant smile when he spots them through the glass doors at the back of his home. Billy and Eleven’s eyes glow out like flickering embers from the darkness of the treeline, hiding in the growing shadows of a darkening hour.

Knowing the house will be empty other than their ally, Billy nudges Eleven forward, keeping a careful eye on her as she walks around the edge of the Harringtons’ covered pool.

The back door slides open and, as they have made their routine, Billy and Eleven hover at the edge of the patio. Harrington, as usual, stays one step from the door. It’s a good truce; enough space for either of them to turn and run.

“Hi,” Harrington greets them, crouching down and tucking his legs under himself to sit and face them. “You haven’t been back for a month.”

Billy chuffs, feeling unfairly chastised, but the effect is minimal with Eleven wagging her tail delightedly. Since they got out, she’s really begun to come out of her shell, especially around Harrington. Billy really wishes she could have friends her age, but in their situation that’s just not safe.

Rolling his eyes at her enthusiasm, Billy settles down on his belly, watching the pair of them from the corner of his eye with a feigned disinterest.

“Are you hungry?”

Billy can almost feel the air shift as Eleven perks up in excitement. Her nose twitches, smelling for any treats he might have hidden away on his person for her.

“Yeah? Great! I’ll get you something. I don’t think there’s much in, but I can… put some chicken tenders in the oven?”

With that, he gets up and lets himself back into his house. It shows a great deal of, frankly, stupid trust in what he perceives to be just some wild wolves that he leaves the door open behind him. Eleven is happy to use that to her benefit, though.

She scurries around to the other side of Billy, trying to peer into the house through the open door to watch Steve make them some food. It’s endearing, of the both of them; Harrington feeding wild animals food from his freezer and Eleven’s delight in his company and the human food it brings.

Truth be told, Billy is excited too. Until Harrington, Billy hadn’t had any human food since his mother was around. It’s nice, a little reminder of the other side of their nature that they’re unable to indulge in anymore.

He’s not sure Eleven had even had chicken tenders until Harrington.

The girl beside him, growing impatient, goes to take a step closer to the house. With a nip to her flank, Billy warns her off that idea as quick as she can even act on it. It’s not something Eleven is too pleased with, given the grumbling growl she lets out, but she does listen to him. He’s glad she still listens to that prerequisite of their escape; she always has to do as Billy says, to keep them safe.

Harrington’s face, when Billy looks back over, has appeared in the doorway. It seems he has seen Billy’s warning, because his face is considering and his feet carry him a step further than their usual place. The closer proximity makes Billy growl, a low warning in his throat.

This isn’t how they do this. For both of their safety, they have the unspoken agreement that they never get closer.

For a moment, it seems as if Harrington remembers himself. He glances away anxiously, stilling there. It’s almost enough for Billy to ease his tension, but then the boy’s shoulders set and he takes another deliberate step forward.

This time, Billy’s on his feet like a shot, snarling openly at him. He doesn’t want to have to attack, or run. He likes what they have with Harrington, it’s saved their skins too many times for comfort, but if he has to give it up to keep Eleven safe, he will. He’s all Eleven’s got and he won’t let anything happen to her just because they trusted the wrong person; even those who have been kind to Billy in the past have betrayed him before.

He thinks of his mother’s face, and the absence of her smell from their house. It was so long ago that he almost can’t remember it.

Eleven seems uncertain too, hesitating in moving away but holding her body tense.

“It’s okay,” Harrington soothes. “It’s okay.”

His tone makes some of the tension bleed out of Eleven’s posture, but that alone has Billy’s hackles rising further. She can’t drop her guard, they can’t afford to! For them it’s the difference between life and death. Friends are just something they can’t risk, no matter what she and Harrington want. No matter what Billy might want.

When Harrington takes another step, Billy’s growl grows even louder. One more step and he’ll be signalling Eleven to run. One more step and he’ll fend Harrington off, no matter what he has to do. One more step and—

“Enough,” Harrington huffs, eyes glowing their steady amber now.

Despite everything, it calms something in him. Amber eyes have meant safety to him, always, no matter what situation they’re in. He wants to pounce when Harrington shuffles another inch closer, but all the fight seems to flow out of him, something in his panicked chest settling.

Harrington stops in arms reach of them, dropping into a crouch in front. Billy remains still as a statue, but Eleven’s tail starts to sway back and forth happily. Harrington’s eyes are still glowing that warm, safe amber and Billy can’t look away. It’s like he’s been hypnotised. Transfixed.

A frown tugs at Harrington’s face as he takes in the state of them, but that doesn’t stop him from offering out a hand for Eleven to sniff. Seemingly content with the offering, Eleven nudges her head against his palm, encouraging him to rake his fingers through her fur.

Even when the texture of it makes Harrington cringe, he obliges. Turning to Billy doesn’t get him met with the same acceptance, though. He’s not prepared to throw away all his caution, not just for some pretty eyes.

“You’re filthy,” he observes, dusting the dried mud off his hands.

As if remembering the discomfort of the filth caking her fur, Eleven shakes and scratches at her skin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Harrington glances around, looking for a solution to the problem.

“I could hose you off…?”

Billy growls again. There is no way he’s letting some guy hose him down with icy water, no matter how mucky he gets. He'd rather remain filthy than suffer that humiliation.

“Fine, okay. Whatever.”

Harrington huffs, sitting down on the floor in front of them. Eleven happily trots over to his side, dropping her head onto his lap in a bid to receive more affection. Months in these woods have turned her pretty touch starved, no matter how often Billy curls up with her.

Hesitantly, Billy settles down again, keeping a watchful eye on Harrington with Eleven. Just in case.

When a timer goes off in the kitchen, Harrington jumps to his feet and hurries off to take the food out of the oven. It’s a little while before he gives it over to them, letting it properly cool so as to not upset their stomachs, but every bite is heavenly.

“That’s better,” Harrington coos as they eat, reaching out to pet Billy’s fur, not that Billy allows him to actually do that.

Eleven flops down contentedly, but Harrington still looks thoughtful. If he’s about to suggest the hose again Billy will be happy to rethink his thankfulness.

“I’m going to get in so much trouble for this,” he murmurs under his breath before Harrington addresses them again with a clap of his hands. “Okay! Let’s go get you guys in the tub. You need a bath.”

Eleven doesn’t even hesitate before she’s jumping up to follow Harrington into the house. It’s something that Billy doesn’t even have time to contest before the both of them are slipping through the doorway and into the building. That leaves Billy with no choice but to follow them inside, listening out for anything alarming. Even if Eleven has let down her guard, he won’t.

The Harringtons’ house is huge and immaculate, not a piece of furniture out of place. Of course, that changes when Eleven comes bounding through, leaving a trail of muddy pawprints that has Harrington cringing again. Billy is prepared to jump in and defend Eleven from his frustration… but nothing comes. Harrington simply pats her on the head and continues down the hall with her.

The bathroom is upstairs and two doors on the left.

The walls are all pristine teal tiles, the colour matched in all the bathroom furniture. Out of a cupboard, Harrington pulls out a pair of fluffy white towels that has even Billy feeling incredulous. He wants to wash two filthy werewolves… here? With those? In this nice clean bathroom?

Maybe they are safe with Harrington; the guy is clearly an idiot.

If wolves could make incredulous facial expressions, that’s what Billy would be doing right now. Instead he simply watches on as Harrington runs the taps, testing the water temperature between grabbing different colourful bottles of soap from the shelves.

Eleven looks ecstatic, hopping from foot to foot at the prospect of finally having a wash after far too long. It’s understandable, even Billy finds himself somewhat excited for her as the water froths with a sweet-smelling bubbly solution.

The younger lets out a happy yip when Harrington beckens her over and clambers into the tub. She seats herself in the centre, sniffing at the bubbles and sneezing when they inevitably tickle her nose. It makes Harrington laugh as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, kneeling on the floor beside the tub.

His hands quickly become covered in the frothy brown evidence of the dirt being washed from Eleven’s fur as he scrubs. It’s not something he minds too much, given the minimal complaining—though he does curse when Eleven shakes and splatters droplets of dissolved mud and murky water his way.

Eleven seems to be enjoying the bath a great deal, even when Harrington removes the plug to drain away the ruined water and reaches for the showerhead to blast away the final stubborn patches of muck. She even leans into a particularly satisfying scratch with a great aura of contentment.

Before long, she’s clean enough for Harrington to deem suitable, and even Billy has to nod his approval at the immaculate state of her coat. It’ll save her a great deal of discomfort in the coming months.

Towelling off has Eleven excited again, darting around the bathroom space to avoid the towel. It’s only a game, though, and she does eventually get dried. If she had wanted to escape the rub down, she could have easily squeezed her way between Billy and the edge of the doorway and dashed away to safety—and Billy would have been right behind her!

In the end, she tires herself out with all the fun and the warmth from the bath water that soothed her cold bones from days in the winter chill. Harrington notices it only a minute or so after Billy, shooting her a fond smile.

The next room he leads them to is, apparently, his bedroom.

He places a layer of dry towels over the surface and allows Eleven to hop up and get comfortable. With her settled in for a nap, Billy allows himself to be ushered from the room. He won’t divulge her of a comfortable rest, God knows she needs it.

“Okay,” Steve huffs, evidently feeling the energy drain after dealing with an overactive pup. “Now you.”

That makes the fur on Billy’s back stand on end, entire body tensing. Sorry, him? Does Harrington really think Billy is going to let him anywhere near him?

Until now, Billy hasn’t even let Harrington come within six metres of them! And even with this strange truce they have going on, he doesn’t intend to suffer the vulnerability and the indignation of letting this teenager bathe him. Has Harrington forgotten that Billy is the one who has been sending him warning looks and cautionary growls all day?

Another growl rumbles with his distaste at the very thought but, before Billy can dart away, or bite, or anything else, Harrington’s hand clamps around the scruff at the back of his neck. Billy finds himself startled at the sheer audacity! This part-human thinks he can just pick him up and carry him around like an unruly dog?

He finally snaps back to his senses when Harrington tries to encourage him into the slippery tub. Not that this is something Billy has any intention of allowing to happen on his watch. With a great deal of kicking and growling, head butting back to collide with Harrington’s shoulder with as much force as he can manage, he tries to buck his way free.

It doesn’t work. Barely. Harrington manages to wrestle him into the tub, panting with exhaustion, and jolts into action when Billy tries to jump back out.

Effectively, he’s been trapped by this idiot. This idiot who invited two wolves into his lovely clean house like lovable stray dogs.

It’s not a good look for Billy. He’s just glad Eleven is asleep and not watching him be outsmarted by this nitwit.

The water around him is indulgently warm as it pours from the tap, filling the tub with it and frothing white bubbles. Given the state of him and what happened during Eleven’s bath he’s sure it’s not going to stay that way for long.

Harrington has lathered up some soap between his hands and is reaching for Billy before he even knows it’s happening. Billy had been so distracted by the indulgence of the water that he hadn’t even noticed Harrington moving. The sudden proximity startles him and, within an instant, he has Harrington’s forearm caught between his teeth.

“Gah!”

They both freeze, caught in the moment. Billy waits for Harrington to hit back as the other just stares at him, but Harrington doesn’t do anything.

Slowly, Billy releases his hold. There’s no taste of iron or flash of broken skin, but he can see the indents of his teeth on Harrington’s flesh. That’s enough to make him feel guilty.

When Harrington, cautiously, tries again to wash him, Billy just lets it happen. Sure, he grumbles through it, but there’s no more fighting it. Of course, he’d never admit it—because this is still humiliating!—but, to an extent, it’s… nice.

The water is warm and Harrington is gentle, not lingering anywhere that has Billy stiffening nervously. After a few minutes, Harrington seems to settle, losing himself in his task and rambling happily at Billy.

“There we go. No one would have known you had lighter patches before this.”

Billy huffs.

“Yeah, I get it. You’re nearly clean, stop whining.”

Insulted, Billy thumps his sudsy head against Harrington’s side, making the other grumble in annoyance.

“See if I do anything nice for you again.”

The plug is pulled and Billy shakes off the water, reasoning that the bathroom was already trashed by Eleven anyway, and Harrington clearly wouldn’t do anything about it.

“Dude.”

If a wolf could grin, Billy would be.

Harrington dries him off with another towel and, wow. Billy hasn’t felt this human in years; clean and free and in a normal, if posh, house… It almost makes him homesick, but otherwise it just feels nice.

“There we go…” Harrington soothes, and Billy actually settles.

It makes him nervous, somewhere in the back of his mind. Billy has had his guard raised non stop since… Fuck, probably since his mom left. And now, after the better part of a year being spent cold and alone, on high alert as if the people from Hawkins lab would just jump out of the shadows and drag them away to that place again, he’s just tired.

He’s so fucking tired, and Harrington’s house is warm, and he’s clean, and the guy feeds them, and for once Billy just wants to stop. He doesn’t want to look over his shoulder, worrying about when their next meal will be and getting piss poor sleep.

Fingers brush hesitantly through the fur on his back, and Billy lets it. Only for a moment but, god, is it nice. He knew Eleven was lonely but… he hadn’t realised how alone he’d felt. He thought he’d gotten used to it, but maybe he never had. Maybe that was just a comfortable lie.

He refuses to leave Harrington alone to do god only knows what behind their backs, though. He may be relaxed and lethargic, but he’s still a safe amount of paranoid. Eleven can rest up, but Billy only pointedly glares at Harrington when he tries to coax Billy to have a nap with her.

In the end, they settle in the Harringtons’ living room after Billy watches Harrington painstakingly scrub down the bathroom and the muddy trails he and Eleven made on their way in. Honestly, watching paint dry would have been just as interesting, but Billy, strangely, liked the company, muttered cursing included.

The Harringtons’ sofa is comfortable, almost too much so. As the young Harrington settled down with a book, Billy sat beside him. He felt a little weird about it—Neil had never let him or his mother on any of the furniture if they were shifted, and that is really the only example of home life Billy had ever had—but Harrington had been the one to invite him up onto the cushions so he just went with it.

It’s proving more and more difficult to stay awake, now. Warm and clean and full, resting on a comfortable sofa, Billy finds himself reluctantly laying down and fighting his eyes as they drift closed again and again. Each blink seems to last a century, becoming harder and harder to fight back open.

At least, until he finds himself waking with a start at the sound of the doorbell.

With a groan, Harrington pushes himself to his feet, moving to answer it. All of Billy’s fears come rushing back.

It could be anyone out there! He should never have let his guard down. What if Hawkins Lab had finally caught up to them? What if someone had seen Billy and Eleven sneaking around? What if Mr and Mrs Harrington have come back?

No matter what, any situation seems to spell doom for them, but Harrington is just up and walking over to the door like it’s nothing. What if it’s him? What if he took advantage of the time Billy fell asleep for? Maybe this has all been some sick ploy to sell them out.

Billy jumps up, darting over to stand in his way, a wary growl rumbling from his throat.

“It’s fine,” Harrington dismisses, walking past without a care.

Billy should fight him, do whatever it takes to stop him from opening the door. He should buy him and Eleven a little bit of time to run. But he just doesn’t have it in him. After everything, the idea of causing Harrington any more grief has his stomach churning in despair.

But he has to do something.

His hand clamps around Harrington’s wrist, holding him in place as he startles at the sudden contact. He turns around in a panic to face Billy, eyes darting downwards before resolutely focusing on his face, cheeks burning.

Billy, though, pays no mind to his state of undress. It doesn’t matter that this is the most vulnerable he’s been in years. He needs to get Harrington to listen, he wants to be able to trust him. It’s been so long since Billy has had a good thing.

Harrington is a good thing. He just wants to keep it, this one indulgence.

“Don’t. Please.”

The word hurts coming out. Pleading has never gotten Billy anything good, any sympathy.

“Holy shit!” Harrington shouts, stumbling a step backwards. “No way. No fucking way.”

“Please,” Billy repeats.

“I didn’t think— I mean some part of me— …shit, dude.”

“Please. Don’t.”

Harrington regains his breath, not even seeming to notice as the doorbell rings once, twice more. It’s followed by pounding and some kid yelling. Neither of them move, eyes locked seriously on each others’. Harrington flexes his hand, making the flesh in Billy’s grasp shift.

Billy’s eyes flash, it’s instinctive. Harrington feels like home, has done since the first time they came across each other, even if Billy didn’t let himself acknowledge it. Harrington’s shine their own unique shade of amber in return. They’re beautiful.

“It’s fine,” Harrington whispers to him. “It’s just the kids I babysit. My ex’s brother and his friends.”

His eyes dart towards the staircase.

“Is… is the other one like you?”

“Her name is Eleven, and yes. Don’t… I can’t let you do anything to put her in danger.”

“I won’t, I swear. Seriously.”

Billy nods, satisfied.

“But I have to let these guys in or they’ll break down the door.”

At that moment, someone presses down on the doorbell and doesn’t let up. It constantly chimes through the house, echoing through the empty halls.

“Fine.”

Billy lets go and Harrington takes a step away before hesitating.

“What’s your name?”

“Billy. What’s yours?”

“Steve.”

---

Next up in the race is the lovely @intothedysphoria so hang around to see what he's put together for us <3

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eleven hopper #harringrove relay race #fanfic #fanart

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navybrat817 · 2 years

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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers Summary: Bucky and Steve brand their best girl. Word Count: Over 6.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), spitroasting, threesome, dirty talk, tension, possessive behavior, porn with feels (it’s me, c’mon), tattooed Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (they’re warnings, okay?) A/N: Welcome back to my tattoo AU! Have you missed them? I know I have! Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you, lovely! Banner created by yours truly, but Bucky and Steve photos were provided by the talented @nix-akimbo ! This AU wouldn’t exist without them. Divider by the beautiful @firefly-graphics and banners by the lovely @vase-of-lilies. And thanks to @lookiamtrying and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for our new reader nickname.

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please comment and reblog as it means the world!

It was a beautiful day as you sat between Bucky and Steve in Thor’s truck, gazing through the windshield as the three of you drove through town. The boys had just finished setting up your new dining room table and Thor was kind enough to let them use his truck to pick it up and deliver it from the store. Ever since you moved into their place, they had done everything in their power to make the place more like your own. That included upgrading some of the furniture, which you tried to talk them out of in the beginning. You didn’t want them turning their home upside down for you. They, of course, argued that it was your home now, too.

Not to mention, one of them usually dropped their knees and buried their face between your legs if you protested too much. They didn’t play fair. And you never expected them to. Your beautiful, tattooed bastards.

You looked between them and took a moment to appreciate the view. Bucky smirked at you as he caught your eye. He was growing his hair out a bit and you were half tempted to tug on it. You turned your attention to Steve, who smiled softly as he looked away from the road for just a moment. You wished you could feel his beard scrape along your skin.

I'll never get enough of them.

“How did you manage to get Thor’s truck again?” You asked as Steve turned onto the main street. “I thought this was his baby. Or is that his recliner in the basement?”

“His recliner is his other baby. And we may have promised you’d cook him dinner,” Bucky answered, rubbing small circles on your thigh as you gasped.

“You did what? Do you know how much he eats?” You teased as the brunette laughed.

“We did not. Thor was just being nice,” Steve smiled. The boys refused to let anyone else deliver the furniture since they were in good enough shape to move things themselves. “He’s also probably trying to win more brownie points with Mrs. Monroe by looking generous.”

“I think he has plenty, especially since he helped us move my stuff,” you grinned. Mrs. Monroe was sad to see you leave your old place and you were as well. She was a great neighbor and one of the many to be on your side when Grant and Billy harassed you. You also knew she had a soft spot for Thor and hoped that her granddaughter would end up with him. “I might make him dinner though so I can remain his favorite, until he gets a girlfriend."

“You think you’re his favorite?” Steve laughed a little.

“Yes,” you and Bucky said at the same time.

More laughter filled the truck, the sound almost as bright as the weather. "He does have a soft spot for you," Steve agreed.

"Even Loki likes you, but don't tell him we said that," Bucky winked.

Heat flooded your cheeks. Being part of their group sometimes felt like an out of body experience. Most people around town looked at you differently now, but in a good way. Dating two of the most prominent tattoo artists around changed everything for the better. You wore confidence like a second skin. It looked good on you.

"Thor should be stopping by the shop later today. He wants to see the finished product," Steve told you.

Your wrists tingled as he mentioned the shop. Today was the day you were finally getting your tattoos. One from each of them, designed by them, just for you. It was a way to show you were theirs. Maybe one day, down the road, I’ll get a ring. And only if they want that.

“You nervous about today?” Bucky questioned, all traces of teasing gone. Both kept asking if you really wanted to go through with getting your tattoos and would’ve understood if you wanted to back out. They seemed nervous leading up to today, too, making sure you wanted to stick to the appointment.

Do they think I’ll back out?

“Nope, not nervous,” you put your hand over his, your other reaching for Steve’s as he glanced at you. He looked slightly relieved. “Why would I be?”

“Because what we’re giving you is permanent,” Steve replied.

For some reason, it felt like he wasn’t talking about tattoos. “Yeah, they are and I want them. You can’t change my mind,” you told them, squeezing their hands. Bucky slowly breathed out. Was he expecting me to change my mind? “And if they’re anything like any of your tattoos, I know I’m in for a treat.”

The boys were littered in gorgeous tattoos. You loved them all because every single one of them had a story or significance behind them. They shared similar tattoos, like the rose each of them had for strength and courage. They each had a variation of the Brooklyn Bridge so they would never forget where they came from. And, of course, the symbol for their time in the military, honoring the unit they bonded with. Those were just a few.

"Steve designed something beautiful," Bucky said proudly.

"So did you, Buck," Steve stated just as proudly.

It warmed your heart how much they lifted each other up. "Did either one of you happen to design an animal?" you asked curiously. Bucky had a white wolf to symbolize resilience and survival, a reminder of adjusting to life with his metal arm. Steve had an eagle for strength and courage, always standing up for the people around him.

"Thought you wanted the designs to be a secret," Bucky said as the truck came to a stop.

"I do and I know that they'll be perfect. I'm just," you tried to find the right word. It wasn’t nerves. You wouldn’t lie to them about that. "Antsy? Yeah, I’m a little antsy."

"What can we do to help?" Steve asked, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Tell us," Bucky urged as he shifted to face you, removing his seatbelt, too. You were shocked that the three of you fit in the space with how big they were. Then again, Thor was even bigger and he managed just fine.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Really," you promised. My beautiful boyfriends, ready to jump if I asked them to. "Maybe we could go for a dip. We had so much fun last time."

You smirked as you glanced between them. Steve’s hand tightened into a fist and Bucky licked his lips. You knew they were looking back on that day in Thor's pool, how they unashamedly had you between their bodies, making you feel good and not caring that their friends were nearby to witness it. They never hid their need for you. If anything, they were proud of it.

“Thor won’t be home for awhile,” Bucky said nonchalantly, his hand sliding higher up your leg. Your thighs parted, your body instinctively in tune with theirs. “We could go for a swim.”

“Not breaking into his backyard,” Steve argued, but you heard the slight strain in his voice as his hand went to your other thigh. “We can find a way to take some of the edge off."

"Not to point out the obvious, but this isn't the best space for it," Bucky said, a disappointed look in his eyes as he looked at his best friend. "And Thor might kill us if we get stains on the seats."

You had to smile. The man was built like a god and seeing him angry wouldn't be a pretty sight. "Well…" you trailed off as you looked over your shoulder, into the empty bed of the truck. “Plenty of space back there.”

Bucky swung his head with a grin, moaning a bit. “Right here in the street, doll?”

“Technically, we wouldn’t be in the street. We’d be in the truck,” you teased, starting to close your legs. “But if you two aren’t up for that-”

Lips pressed firmly against yours before you could finish that thought, Bucky’s hand gently gripping your chin to keep you in place. “We have a blanket, Steve?”

“We do,” he answered, reaching back to grab it from behind his seat. He also kept your legs open before you could shut them further. “And we have that thin cushion Thor let us use, too.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to get uncomfortable. Speaking of uncomfortable,” Bucky smirked as he took your hand and placed it on his crotch. “Got me nice and hard, doll. Barely touch me and that’s what you do. Punk’s straining in his pants, too. Won’t feel better ‘til we’re inside you.”

You palmed the brunette as a rush of heat went through you, glancing over at Steve as he opened the door. The tent in his pants was evident as he got out. “And unless we want to scare the neighbors, we should hurry.”

“I don’t think ‘scare’ would be the word,” you said as Bucky pushed his door open. You wondered just how much of exhibitionists your boyfriends were at heart. The potential to get caught did make it fun and they weren't the type to be embarrassed about it if you were. At most, Steve would give whoever found them a sheepish smile. And both would easily charm their way out of it if someone got upset.

Bucky helped you out, your head spinning a bit as he pulled you to the back of the truck. Steve was already in the bed, making sure the cushion was situated. Bucky hopped in beside him, not making a sound as he unfolded the blanket. How do they move so quickly and quietly?

Both held out a hand to help you in and you relished in how dark their gazes were as they pulled you in. You hardly had a chance to crawl on the cushion before Steve kissed you, the hidden hunger surfacing as Bucky moved behind you. Fuck, we’re really doing this here. Why did I suggest this? Why didn’t I suggest this sooner?

“Gonna look so pretty with our ink on you,” the blonde said, kissing along your jaw.

“Almost as pretty as you look when you come on our cocks. That what you need, doll? To get our dicks nice and wet before we leave a mark on you?” the brunette added, his large hands roaming your trembling body.

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you moaned.

“We need it, too,” Bucky’s mouth against your neck only turned you on more, the need to be ruined consuming you.

Your hands quickly covered Steve's when he gripped your skirt, pulling you out of your dizzying state for a moment. "Don't you DARE destroy this skirt. It's one of my favorites."

"We'll buy you a new one," Bucky swore, toying with the fabric from behind you.

"You will not because you are not ruining this one," your tone not giving them a chance to say otherwise. I’m running out of clothes, but I could have worse problems.

"Okay," Steve agreed easily, pushing your skirt up. "Won't destroy this one."

You were about to thank him when he smirked over your shoulder and exchanged a look with Bucky. His metal hand brushed along your covered mound before he gripped the thin material and ripped it away. "Bucky!"

"You said not to destroy your skirt. Not your underwear, which is soaked. Always so wet and ready for us."

Add that to the list of ruined clothes. Why do I bother with underwear?

“But we don’t want you too sore,” Steve said, running a finger along your slit. “So only one cock is filling our sweet pussy.”

You whined because you wanted both of them inside you. “Steve-”

“You can take both our cocks tonight at home. We'll take it slow, doll. Get you nice and stretched out for us," Bucky promised, his voice dripping with desire as Steve slipped a finger in. "Make you beg just a little 'cause it's so fucking pretty when you beg."

You clenched around the digit, trying in vain to feel him deeper. “I should make you both beg for me.”

“We’ll both get down on our knees and beg to have you forever if we have to,” Bucky whispered, unexpected tenderness in his voice given the heated situation.

“Forever,” Steve echoed, his gaze soft as he touched your cheek with his free hand. You almost questioned if something was up when he removed his finger, making you whine. The two of them exchanged a look again before you were manhandled, put on your hands and knees. You scrambled for a moment, practically tearing at Steve’s pants to get his cock out.

“Desperate for us?” he smirked, helping you unbutton his jeans to push them down.

“No more than usual,” you grinned. If they don’t have any shame, why should I?

"Ready for us, doll?" Bucky asked, hearing him shift slightly, likely discarding his pants. "Bet you'll be nice and calm with our come in your greedy holes."

You looked over your shoulder, tightening around nothing as he stroked himself. "You know I will be. So either fuck me or I'll do it myself," you threatened impatiently.

Steve grabbed your chin, careful not to hurt you as he forced you to look at him. "As fun as that would be to watch," he smirked, teasing your lips with the tip of his cock. "Buck's right. You need us to fill you up."

Your eyes slipped shut for a blissful moment as you opened your mouth, Steve's length slowly sliding along your tongue. You wiggled your ass enticingly, your pussy empty and aching. Moaning, you felt Bucky grip a hip as he pressed the head against your wet hole, the cock in your mouth pushing deeper.

"Breathe, sweetheart," Steve gently reminded you as Bucky began to push in.

You spread your legs a bit wider, making a small sound as you inhaled through your nose. Feeling both of them in you was always satisfying, your body welcoming them home where they belonged. I love them so much. You hollowed out your cheeks as they moved in tandem, already giving you what you needed. They read you so well.

"Holy shit," Steve slid his hand to the back of your head, fucking your mouth in shallow thrusts as you sucked harder. "That's it, sweetheart."

"Pussy's gripping me like a vice, doll. What's got you so excited?" Bucky stretched over your back a bit as they both moved faster, pressure already burning in your core. "That anyone can see us? Or that they'll see that you're ours?"

You could only moan in response, clenching around them. I'm yours. All yours. Want everyone to know. More, please, please. The groans and pants they let out spurred you on, doing your best to take them in as deep as you could.

"Take it," Steve groaned as he worked his hips. "Take everything we give you."

You took every inch as they kept the steady pace, your clit throbbing as they pushed and pulled you between them. You whimpered as they brought you closer to the edge, the pleasure so hot inside you it almost burned you. Feeling Bucky's balls slap against you as he kept up the steady pace, and hearing Steve's pants as he slid across your tongue, wasn't enough. You needed them to give that final push.

"She's close. Squeezing me so fucking hard," Bucky groaned as he leaned over you, grinding deep into you as his hand moved quickly to your front. You nearly screamed around Steve as Bucky's fingers found your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. "Oh, that's it. Fuck, still sound so beautiful with your mouth full. Almost there."

Fuck. Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop. Please, make me come.

You managed to meet Steve's gaze as the knot inside you got closer to tightening and snapping, his blue eyes as commanding as his voice when he grunted, "Come for us."

The tension exploded, your body shuddering through your orgasm as you spasmed around Bucky's cock. The breath would've been stolen from your lungs if you weren't choking on Steve. Little whimpers left your throat as you trembled, hearing both men swear as they sped up. You wished it didn’t have to end, but you needed to feel them fill you up.

“Fuck, so fucking good,” Bucky moaned, driving into you until he buried himself to the hilt, spilling hot and thick inside you. "Fuck," he hissed as you milked him, wanting every drop he could give you.

Steve throbbed in your mouth, feeling him harden more, before he stilled and came down your throat. He said you would take everything they gave you and he was right. He gasped as he slid out, sitting back as Bucky managed to keep you from collapsing. It was perfect.

They’re so fucking perfect.

You felt Steve’s lips against yours, giving you a soft and lazy kiss, as Bucky pulled out of you. He helped you stretch out so you could rest a little, all of you smiling as you panted. You were sated, at ease and it was just what you needed.

“So,” you breathed, smiling wide. “That happened.”

“Believe it or not,” Steve smiled a bit. “We needed that, too.”

“For good luck?” you teased.

“Yeah. We’ll call it that,” Bucky said, kissing your forehead before you heard loud footsteps approaching the truck.

Oh, shit.

“What in heavens have you done?!”

You almost gave yourself whiplash as you sat up, your eyes wide as they locked with a pair of thunderous blue eyes. “Thor?”

You scrambled to make yourself presentable, but the boys made no effort to cover up.

“Shall I ask again?!”

Thor’s booming voice made you cover your mouth. To anyone else, you would’ve looked shocked. Your boys, however, knew at this point that you were trying not to laugh.

“Here’s the thing. We-”

“You defiled her in the back of my truck,” Thor cut Bucky off.

Yes. Yes, they did.

“Technically, we-” Steve tried to say calmly as he tucked himself away.

“You’ve already desecrated my pool, which I have no issue with,” Thor reminded them. We may revisit that pool. “But here? My sacred vessel?!”

You made a noise similar to a snort as your boyfriends looked at you for help. Tempted to say it was all their idea for looking so sexy. "Please, don't be mad at them. I suggested it. I was feeling antsy about my tattoos and they wanted to help," you explained, your eyes downcast when you finished. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, no, no," Thor said quickly, his hands raised in a surrendering gesture as you hid your smile. "I would never be upset with you."

Oh, Thor, you are so screwed if you end up dating a Monroe. She'll turn her doe eyes on you and you'll melt.

"But you two will give this a thorough cleaning," he pointed between your men. "I shall take my bike for the time being."

"Thank you for understanding," you smiled as you lifted your gaze.

"Of course. And I shall see you at the shop. Do not worry. You're in good hands," he promised. "As you are already well aware."

"You're helping us wash this," Bucky said as Thor walked toward his garage.

"Not a chance," you smirked, nearly jumping when Steve affectionately pinched your side.

"I'm already thinking of ways you can make it up to us," he said.

You are the man with a plan.

The gentle noise of the needles and conversations in the Howling Commandos shop made you smile as you waited in your chair. You never expected those sounds to become some of your favorites, but life surprised you. And thanks to the earlier activities and a hearty meal, you felt much more relaxed.

"How are you so calm?" Mandy demanded, plopping down in the chair across from you. "How?!"

You had to laugh as your shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, not mentioning the pleasant ache between your thighs. "Needles don't bother me, I want these tattoos and I trust them," you recited easily. You had no reason to be nervous, especially since you knew they'd handle you with care.

Mandy narrowed her eyes, leaning forward as she tapped a finger against the armrest. “They fucked you before they opened the shop, didn’t they?”

Might just make it a morning ritual, which it kind of is. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Where?” she asked suspiciously.

“Back of Thor’s truck.”

"Naughty girl. You know he loves his truck,” she shook her head with a grin. “And I can't believe you're letting them ink you without them telling you what they're branding you with.”

"Seriously, why do you make everything they do sound so dirty?"

"Because they are dirty. You have permanent bowleggedness or whatever it's called since they can't keep their dicks out of you," she teased, raising an eyebrow as you began to laugh. She isn't wrong. "Surprised you're not knocked up."

"Not this again," you groaned as your laughter died down, pinching the bridge of your nose. Ever since you moved in with Bucky and Steve, Mandy constantly asked when you were getting married and having babies. You expected it from everyone else, but not your best friend.

In hindsight, I should have.

"Yes, this again. Have you guys talked about it?"

"We’ve talked a bit about it,” you answered, shifting a bit in your seat. “They both want a future with me and to build a home together. I want that, too. For the time being, we're enjoying living together. Isn't that enough for you?"

"Is it enough for you? You haven't imagined wedding bells or anything like that?" Mandy asked knowingly.

You glanced at the ring finger of your left hand. "Of course, I have," you admitted. You were in love with your boyfriends and you wanted to marry them. The fact that Steve gave love another chance after a failed engagement and Bucky was willing to share his love and a partner with his best friend still made you want to pinch yourself.

I hope they know how much I appreciate them letting me in.

"I fucking knew it!" Mandy yelled loud enough to make the shop go silent.

"You knew what?" Bucky called back.

"That she's going to marry you and Steve so you can make an honest woman out of her," she smirked as you flipped her off. It didn't bother her in the slightest.

"She'd be making honest men out of us, too," Steve chimed in as Bucky chuckled.

You swung your head to where your boyfriends were sitting, each of them finishing up with a couple of regular clients. They really do make me throb just by looking at them. How is that possible? And what’s that look they just gave each other?

“It may be your pussy that brings them to their knees, but they’re on my side when it comes to your future.”

“Please, don’t encourage her,” you begged as Mandy grinned proudly. “And worry about your own pussy.”

“That’s my job,” Natasha smirked as she appeared with a glass of water, handing it to you. “And I have to agree that you have nothing to worry about. You’ll love what they came up with.”

“You’ve seen them?” you asked, taking a sip.

“No, but they discussed them a bit. Minus each other, they want you to be the first to see them.”

“And they’re really going to do her at the same time?” Mandy smirked.

The redhead smirked back at her girlfriend. “They are. Should be quite the show.”

You looked between them suspiciously. “You’re both going to watch?” you asked. You knew Thor wanted to stop by to see them, even though he had the day off, but Nat wanted to see them, too?

“It’s not every day I get to see two of my favorite boys do their favorite girl. Might even tape it.”

Everything is a sex joke with this group. Deviants. All of them. “Who said I was going to let anyone watch? How can I be the first to see them when they’re done if you’re here?”

Mandy gasped at the suggestion that you might not let her stay. “Oh, come on! You held my hand when I got mine and I won’t be able to hold yours, so you can at least let me watch. Please?”

“Of course, you can stay. I was just giving you a hard time, like you give me,” you grinned as she relaxed in her seat. It was nice that she wanted to be there. And Bucky did such a great job with her tattoo, even with how scared she had been. "You invite anyone else?"

"Not Peggy," Mandy coolly replied.

"Be nice," you urged. Peggy didn't come around or bother you. She was usually busy helping Sharon and Briana. You half expected there to be drama after everything with her, along with Grant and Billy, but things were peaceful.

"You be nice. I'll be a bitch."

“That’s enough of that,” Natasha shot Mandy a look. Both of you knew your best friend was still being protective of you. “Clint and Sam want to see. Tony may even swing by.”

“Did you invite everyone?” you asked suspiciously. It seemed a little strange. Why would they all want to see them?

“The boys are excited,” she responded. Her face gave nothing away as she patted your shoulder, so you dropped it. “Relax. They’re almost ready for you.”

I would relax more if I didn’t see Mandy wink at you. What are they up to? And why haven’t they clued me in?

True to Natasha’s word, Thor, Clint and Sam were all standing nearby chatting a few minutes later. Did they clear their schedules for this? You narrowed your eyes as you looked at your boyfriends. They whispered to each other as their clients paid and left. And for the first time today, they looked nervous.

Are they scared I’m going to hate my tattoos?

You turned your head when the bell above the door rang, your eyebrows shooting up as Tony Stark walked in moments later with a bottle in his hand. He would wear sunglasses in the shop. It somehow worked.

“Didn’t start the party without me, did you?”

“It isn’t a party, Stark,” Natasha reminded him.

“Is that right? I thought we were celebrating,” he smirked, winking over at you. “Not every day these boys are naughty in the back of Point Break’s truck.”

Thor gave you a sheepish look before you could say anything. “I wasn’t going to tell him, but he’s very persuasive.”

“And the worst person to keep a secret. It just happened this morning,” you said, expecting one of the boys to jump in and say something. They were still whispering to each other. “Everything okay?” you called out to get their attention.

The wide eyed looks they gave you almost made you laugh. Almost. “Sorry. You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said.

“And I resent that. I can keep a secret,” Tony argued as he set the bottle down at one of the stations. “No drinks until you’re done.”

You got a look at the label as he walked away. It was very expensive. “All that for a couple of tattoos?”

“Let’s get started,” Steve said as Tony opened his mouth, cutting him off.

The antsy feeling began to creep in as Natasha whispered something in Clint’s ear, bringing a devilish grin to his face. Sam appeared to be casual, but there was an excited glint in his eyes. Thor looked like he couldn’t stand still and Mandy…

“Are you crying?” you asked her. She has tears in her eyes. Actual tears.

“Nope. Not crying,” she swore, blinking rapidly as Nat held out her hand for her to take. “Just happy for you.”

“This is weird. You’re all acting weird,” you said as Bucky and Steve took their spots on each side of your chair. They had their machines and stencils nearby, but didn’t say anything about your comment. “Guys, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” they said at once.

Bull-fucking-shit. “Are you two really that nervous?” you asked. These two had fought side-by-side, in and out of the military, and had seen their share of horrors. They were masters of their craft. They had nothing to fear about this.

Steve nodded slowly. You got a better look at him and saw how pale he was. “Maybe we’re feeling a bit antsy now. At least, I am.”

“I am a bit, too,” Bucky added, leaning over to give you a quick kiss. You noticed that his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We want it to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.”

You felt small as the words sunk in, briefly reaching out to touch the tops of their hand. Maybe that’s why they wanted everyone here. Moral support was always a good thing. “You have nothing to be nervous about. I told you earlier, I trust you. I’m ready,” you promised. Your wrists were ready to be branded. They were artists and you allowed yourself to become their canvas.

The boys didn’t visibly relax, but you could feel that some of the tension was gone as you looked between them.

“You sure you don’t want to be blindfolded?” Sam joked.

“That’s for the bedroom only,” you teased back, making everyone laugh.

You exhaled as they cleaned your inner wrists with the rubbing alcohol. The cool sensation was almost a sense of false security since you knew you were going to feel at least some degree of pain shortly. The stencils went on next as you stared straight ahead. As tempted as you were to glance down to see them, you refused to look.

“Since you’re not going to look,” Bucky grinned. “Do you trust where we’re putting these?”

“And from what we see, they’re nice and even,” Steve promised.

“Once again, I trust you,” you told them before they slowly pulled the paper away.

You smiled as Mandy got her phone out to take a picture, waiting patiently as the boys got their machines ready. You really did admire how seriously they took their job for every single client and you were no exception. They ran a clean, safe shop. You were in the best hands.

“Deep breaths,” Bucky softly reminded you once they were ready, checking his machine once more.

“And try to stay still,” Steve added. They warned you that the lining would likely be the most painful part of the process, with any shading or coloring afterwards hurting less. “If it’s too much, tell us.”

You nodded quickly. Deep breaths. Stay still. If I can take their cocks, I can take a couple of needles.

Though they warned you, the prickling sensation you felt on each wrist almost made you jump. The needles stung, as you expected, but you managed not to make a sound. You could feel their soothing touch through their gloves as they held your lower arms down. It was gentle, intimate and you firmly had to remind yourself not to be aroused.

They already came inside me once today and I don’t need to make a mess on this chair with everyone watching.

The conversations around you were in low tones, likely to put you at ease, and they had varying degrees of smiles on their faces. Even Mandy was unexpectedly silent as she took a couple of photos. You expected her to be a chatterbox, but she was likely being respectful of the boys to not distract them. You appreciated it.

“Doing great, doll,” Bucky praised, even though he didn’t lift his eyes. Steve did for a moment, giving you a tender smile, before he went back to work. And it was so much like them to balance giving you what you needed, which was assurance in different ways.

I love you both.

After a few minutes, the pain faded to a dulling sensation. Maybe it was adrenaline or your body getting used to it. You wouldn’t call a needle piercing your skin a pleasant feeling, but it wasn’t bad. It somehow felt like the right kind of pain. You could easily see why people didn’t stop at one tattoo.

“Still feeling okay?” Steve questioned as you nodded. “Do you need to take a break?”

“I’m fine. No break,” you said.

Mandy held out her phone to show you the photos. She managed to block out your wrists, or maybe the boys were just shielding them that well. You somehow heard the bell over the needles, surprised to see Loki. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he silently walked over to Thor.

Ha. Guess he really does like me.

“You ready to look?” Bucky asked as he looked up, both of them clicking their machines off.

They’re done? How did they do that at the same time? “Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Which one first?” Steve smiled since you still hadn’t looked down.

Instead of answering his question, you slowly lifted both arms and bent them at the elbow so both of your wrists were in view. So many emotions went through you as you saw them. “Oh, my god.”

On your left wrist was an eight-pointed star with what appeared to be tiny gem embellishments. On the end of each were alternates between tiny moons and suns. On your right wrist was the shape of a heart, but it was made out of multiple flowers. Above the heart were the words “Live Free” with three birds flying together.

“Before we explain what they mean, what do you think of them?” Bucky asked, his voice cracking a little.

“I love them. They’re so beautiful. They’re perfect,” you smiled between them. Their smiles almost blinded you and you knew how much love and care they put into creating these. “Thank you.”

They each gave you a kiss, the sweet feel of their lips even better than normal. You turned your wrists so everyone could see them. Mandy snapped a couple photos, shrieking as she did so.

“Those are gorgeous! You better put these on your wall.”

“Fit for a queen,” Thor said proudly as he admired them.

Loki rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile was there. “Not bad.”

“That means he likes them,” Natasha said as Clint got his phone out.

“Get together, you three,” he said, holding it up to take a photo

“We still need to wrap her wrists,” Steve argued, but he moved in and smiled so the picture could be taken.

“Thought that was for the bedroom,” Sam joked, making Bucky laugh as Tony went to pour drinks.

I hope Clint got that in the photo. And where did Tony get the shot glasses from? “Yes, please let them wrap them so they can tell me why they designed these.”

You placed your arms back on the chair so they could apply the ointment and wrap. They went through the aftercare instructions with you before, but you were certain they’d go over them again. It wouldn’t hurt, especially since you didn’t want to do any damage to the beautiful designs they just made.

“Come here, come here,” Mandy said once you were wrapped, grabbing your hands to pull you out of the chair. You almost laughed when she pulled you away from the group, your back to them. “You’re happy?”

“I am. They’re wonderful,” you smiled.

“Not the tattoos,” she said, biting her lip. “You’re happy with them? With Bucky and Steve?”

You nodded slowly. You swore tears were filling her eyes again. “I am. I love them more than anything.”

She sniffled as she hugged you close. “They love you, too, you know? So fucking much."

You patted her back a little, trying to figure out why she was so emotional. “I know they do. I’m lucky to have them.”

She hugged you tighter, sniffling again. “You’re my best friend and your happiness means the world to me.”

“Yours means the world to me, too,” you promised, leaning back and pushing her back gently by the shoulders so you could look at her. “But why are you being so emotional?”

Instead of speaking, she turned you around. Everyone was facing you, smiling as they held shot glasses in their hands. The only empty hands were Bucky and Steve’s, but they stood side-by-side with smiles as they gazed at you.

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you took a step forward.

Steve cleared his throat. “People have said at times that Buck and I are different, like night and day. The moon and the sun. So if we’re the moon and the sun, that makes you our star,” he explained as you glanced down at your left wrist.

“And your heart was one the things that drew us to you,” Bucky said as you lifted your gaze. His blue eyes had an extra shine to them as he smiled at you. “You reminded us of a flower. We got to watch you blossom into who you are and you’re a new beginning for both of us. You make us feel free.”

They stepped forward in sync, each reaching for your hand before they dropped to one knee.

Wait. Are they… “Oh, my God,” you whispered.

“You’re our star, our heart and a piece of us we never want to be without,” Bucky told you, a tear falling from his eye. “You taught me how to love and not to be afraid of it, even for a second.”

“And you taught me to love again and to fight like hell to hang onto it,” Steve said proudly.

You almost burst into tears as Bucky removed a box from his pocket. “Our friends have always been our family, but you are our home.”

You couldn’t stop the tears at that point, letting them spill freely as you smiled down at them.

Bucky held up the box as Steve opened it, the three entwining bands shining in the light. You couldn't tell where one began and the other two ended. It was unbreakable. “We love you with everything we have,” the brunette swore.

“And always will,” the blonde added.

“Will you be our wife?” they asked together, both looking up at you with hope and love in their eyes. You knew in that moment you would forever be their first world.

A watery laugh came out as you nodded. “Yes!”

"Against her better judgment she said 'yes'," Tony affectionately announced. "Drink!"

You heard Mandy burst into tears as Bucky slipped the ring on your finger, everyone cheering and downing their shot. None of it registered as you dropped to your knees, framing Bucky’s face to kiss him deeply. You let out another small, happy laugh before doing the same to Steve. You felt their arms wrap around you in a tight hug as you kept crying.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Steve chanted in a whisper.

“Love you so fucking much, doll,” Bucky sniffled, smiling as he kissed your temple. “Or should we start calling you Blossom?”

You laughed again as you felt both of them begin to wipe your tears away. “I like Blossom,” you said, looking at the ring on your left hand. That explained everything. Your boys being nervous, why Mandy was so emotional and why everyone was there. They were all welcoming you home. Your beautiful tattooed bastards were your home.

Because like the new tattoos on your wrist, they had a permanent place in your heart.

*****

Tattoo inspiration photos for our reader below.

Hope to see our boys again soon, especially since they have something to celebrate. Love and thanks for reading!

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vivalarevolution · 1 year

Text

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽-𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓮𝓭 𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓼

Neteyam x Human Reader x Lo’ak

A/N: A little idea I came up with last night while falling asleep. Missing summer, I couldn't resist writing this. I hope you like it , it’s short and sweet. Please remember that english is not my native language, mistakes may occur.

Also, don't be surprised if the reader can kiss etc. without any problem. I think during the time break they had to come up with an alternative to the masks that were worn in the first part.

Sand beneath her feet was pleasantly warm, and the water around her was refreshing. It almost felt like her little heaven, away from any problems and worries. Especially when she had Lo'ak by her side, who faithfully followed her, serving as a porter for all the shells she had decided to start collecting a while ago.

Her small hands from time to time found a place in his large ones, and lips involuntarily met for a fleeting moment, stealing a sweet kisses between the two.

-How many seashells do you need? - the boy asked after a long moment, looking at the girl and how she bent down to search for them.

-Hmm...I honestly have no idea - she confessed, giggling a second later - Guess I just fell into a vortex of searching - she stated, examining her new find, debating whether or not she wanted to keep it.

-As long as I get these kisses, I'll be fine - replied the teenager, crouching down beside her, his tail gliding along her bare leg.

-You'd get them anyway - she pointed out aptly, connecting their foreheads together.

-Then why am I helping you? - he asked playfully, looking at her with adoration in his eyes.

-I'm willing to say it's because you love me - the girl stated, stealing a quick kiss from him - And I can always ask Neteyam. I know he'll be more than happy to help - she added teasingly.

-You wouldn't dare - he replied - These little escapades are only ours.

Y/n couldn't help herself. Laughing loudly, she leaned against the na'vi's torso, her hand clasping his arm for safety. It was always funny to her how Lo'ak was jealous of his own brother who, like him, was also her mate. At first it was hard to come to terms with this kind of relationship but she thought they were over it, apparently she was wrong.

The boy looks at her as if upset, sitting down to make it more comfortable for him to hold the girl in his arms, still, surprisingly, having shells in his palm.

-My sweet Lo'ak, I love you both very much - she whispered into his neck - Please don't be so jealous. I'm not going anywhere.

-I'm not jealous - he muttered like an offended child.

-Oh but you are - she announced - But I like it that way - she added, marking his face with tender kisses that made him close his eyes sighing, giving himself up to a pleasant feeling.

His hands involuntarily slid to her hips, thumbs rubbing her firm skin, trying to pull her as close as possible. He was so addicted to her it was almost sick, but he couldn't help it, loving her attention.

Y/n herself settled her much smaller hands on the nape of his neck, squeezing the blue skin between her fingers again and again, lazily moving to his black hair, which she began to massage, eliciting a soft moan from his mouth.

The moment was sweet, intimate, but it was cut short far too soon.

-What do we have here? - asked an unknown voice, thus interrupting the two.

Lo'ak frowned, and his tail involuntarily tightened on the thigh of the teenager, who moved her mouth away from his skin to look up at the unwanted intruder who was standing above them.

-What do you want? - Y/n asked, much calmer than the boy below her.

-I wanted to know what you two freaks were doing - he said, looking at them with contempt.

-None of your business Ao’nung - girl replied quickly as a draft, getting up from the sand on which she was kneeling.

The boy did not like this answer, it was too ignorant, harsh. He wanted to see anger,��frustration.

Touching his fingers to where her tailbone was, he wanted to make her react but seeing this, Lo'ak stood up as if he was burned. Pushing the chief's son hard, hiding Y/n behind him with his free hand, hissing in a warning.

-Don't you dare touch her - he said, holding the girl's body close to him, pointing his finger at Metkayina's member - You'll try again...- he threatened, but a small hand stopped him from further movement.

The teenager stood in front of him, taking the outstretched hand in hers, holding it close to her soft mouth, kissing his knuckles.

-He's not worth it - she announced, not wanting him to get involved in another fight - Let's go, we'll find another place for us - she said, looking firmly at Ao'nung after a while - And you better leave - she added returning to collect seashells that fell from her mate's hand.

Boy covered her again when Ronal's son got too close in his opinion. Staring defiantly at him, almost waiting for an opportunity to knock him out again.

-Your little demon better not touch anything on this beach. We don't want everything to turn to ashes like your home did - he said quietly, only for Lo'ak to hear.

However, despite everything, the girl heard it anyway and closed her eyes. She didn't know what had possessed her, but taking sand into her hand, it was too late to back out.

-You're right - Y/n replied, standing in front of Ao'nung - I'm one of the demons from sky- she confirmed, looking at him hatefully - We are known for many tricks. There's one here. We call it dirty play - she announced before suddenly throwing sand in the na'vi's eyes.

Lo'ak stared contentedly at the view in front of him before the girl tugged at him. Run was the only word he heard before they started to sprint as far as they could while growls and grunts of displeasure could be heard behind them.

The dark haired boy finally caught her around the waist running with her on his shoulder instead of beside her. They were stopped only by Neteyam, who finally returned from the talk with his father, looking for them for several minutes.

-Here you are, I was looking for you two - he informed, and seeing their condition he looked at them more closely, sighing seconds later - What have you done?

Before either of them could answer his question, the chief's son appeared beside them, and this time he was not alone.

-You will pay for this - he growled at the beginning, trying to get to Y/n, which was covered in a split second by the Sully brothers.

Neteyam didn't know what happened in his absence, but nothing justifies anyone to hurt his mate, so without thinking he pushed the boy's shoulder, trying to tower over him, even though they were the same height.

-Back off - he growled in a low tone, just like his brother before, sticking out his finger as if it would stop him.

-Or what? - he asked arrogantly, stepping closer so that they almost bumped their heads.

-Or I do not vouch for myself - he replied in a low tone of voice, and the girl shivered because of that.

Ao'nung and him stared at each other for a moment before the boy raised his hands up, in a silent act showing that he was giving up. But before he left, he looked one last time at Y/n who was tucked under Lo'ak's arm, clinging to him as a last resort, in fact making sure he didn't break free from her grip.

-You can't stay out of trouble, can you? - the eldest sibling asked when they were finally alone.

- It doesn't matter anymore - the teenager replied, letting go of the na'vi's body next to her - Come on I want to look for more shells - she said, not waiting for their reactions and walking ahead.

The boys looked at each other, but neither spoke, obediently following Y/n, who was walking in front of them, now soaking her feet in the water instead of searching as she wanted before.

Only after a few minutes, she stopped, as if noticing something valuable. Bending down, she fingered her little treasure, smiling slightly, then sat on the sand below her, soaking her toes in the crystal clear sea.

-Will you join me? - she asked gently, and in response they sat on her sides, covering her body from the outside world.

-What's up, pretty girl? - Nete asked, stroking her cheekbone.

-Nothing - she said, kissing his cheek and then his lips, missing the feel of his mouth against hers.

Teenager in response pulled her closer, unable to resist her pink lips, sweet scent and the feeling of soft skin under his fingers. Lo'ak quickly clung to her left side as well and began kissing her, trailing down her bare shoulders and neck, causing her to chuckle softly.

Neteyam pulled away from her, happy as her laughter reached his ears and his eyes saw the wide smile that was caused by his younger brother.

Y/n looked at him, her gaze softening involuntarily. Her small hand drew the one that belonged to him kissing his wrist tenderly, and he grabbed hers in response, repeating the act she had done, biting her skin with one of his fangs from time to time.

-I have something for you - she whispered unexpectedly, and the boys stopped doing anything, looking at her expectantly.

She placed her free hand in the handmade pouch in which she had previously hidden the shells she had collected with Lo'ak. Both Jake's sons watched her actions, not noticing how they were getting closer and closer with each passing moment, almost hovering over Y/n.

-What's that? - Neteyam asked, pushing her hair behind her ear to get a better view.

-We were collecting seashells today - his brother explained to him without taking his eyes off the girl.

-These are special seashells... no matter how strange it sounds - she said, carefully rummaging through them for this particular one - Luckily, I found more than one - she added, sticking her hand out in front of her - There would be three but the last one probably stayed where Ao'nung accosted us.

In her hand were two small heart-shaped shells. Both were colored white, in some places decorated with gray or blue aspects.

-Is this what we've been looking for half a day? - Lo'ak asked quietly.

-When I found one, I had to find another - she explained, feeling their structure with her fingertips - I thought I'd give them to you as proof of my love, because even far from our home, our feelings are strong and the sea sees it.

Y/n stared at them with a warm smile, not even noticing as both na'vi's tails started to move, hitting the ground from time to time in excitement. Only when they wrapped around her like ivy did she shift her gaze to them, looking at them with a silent question in her eyes.

-You're too good for us, you know it - Neteyam said adoringly, kissing her forehead.

-Showing love towards someone should not be a duty but something pleasant. And putting smiles on your lips is something that pleases me - she announced, leaning against his chest while Lo'ak rested his head on her thighs.

-We should find this third shell - said the younger of the brothers, grabbing Y/n's hand on which small gifts rested - Then it will be perfect.

-In a minute - the teenager muttered closing her eyes, feeling how Nete's big hand found its place on her stomach and how sun kissed her skin- It's too nice here to go already.

Brothers grunted in approval, focused on Y/n rather than the landscape in front of them.

For a moment it felt like they were the only ones there, and that was the absolute best feeling. Away from problems and troubles or quarrels. At that moment, there were only three of them, just three of them against the world.

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x fem!reader #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x fem!reader #neteyam x reader x lo'ak #pandora #na'vi #na'vi x reader #teen romance #avatar the way of water x reader

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