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#but it doesn't stop me from thinking of the song every time I see it
vimbry · 10 months
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nothing more devastating than a cool thing you can't share online because it's too close by and internet privacy is Smart, but I need to tell everyone that there's a pizza place attached to a funeral directors
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matchingbatbites · 10 months
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"What the fuck did you do?"
Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.
"Well-"
"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"
Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.
“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”
“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”
No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-
He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.
The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 
Jesus Christ.
“Eddie?”
The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”
In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄
”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“
Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-
He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.
”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.
“Eddie, what-
”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“
Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 
Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.
Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.
With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-
Anything other than what Steve actually sent.
'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'
And Eddie- 
Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 
Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?
This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.
‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’
He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.
‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’
Fuck fuck fuck.
Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’
Steve saves him by sending another message.
‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’
He- What-
Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.
There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.
‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’
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il-miele-che-scrive · 21 days
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Lando Norris and [Y/n] Wolff are an on-and-off thing, fans think they're all good after [Y/n] releases a song supposedly about Lando, but they forget he's not the only Brit on the grid.
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username1 HE LAUGHS AT ALL MY JOKES
↳username2 AND HE SAYS I'M SO AMERICAN
username3 sorry but in which part is y/n american?
↳username1 her mother, Y/m/n Y/l/n, is American and Y/n spent most of her life in the US after Y/m/n and Toto divorced
username3 oooh good to know, thank you!!
username4 I'm so happy to know Y/n and Lando are still together after all
↳username5 But they were never official
username4 But it's obvious! They were seen on dates many times, hanging out around Monaco, not to mention every time Y/n is in the paddock she spends more time in the McLaren garage than Mercedes'
username6 my fav nepo baby <3
username7 damn Lando must be doing a good job lol
username8 Y/n finally released a love song, everybody thank Lando
username9 Weren't there rumours about them being over forever just during the winter break?
↳username10 Toto would find a way to get Lando kicked out of F1 if he ever broke Y/n's heart lmao
username9 What does Toto gotta do with McLaren?
username10 He's rich? Lol
username9 And? Stroll's daddy is rich as well yet he can't make idk Verstappen disappear lol rich doesn't mean he can do anything he wants
username11 Guys I have a bad feeling, we actually haven't seen them together in a long time , I'm afraid they might be actually broken up for good
↳username6 I wouldn't read too much into it, Y/n studies in Monaco so she isn't able to attend races right now
username11 You sure? Y/n hasn't made a single appearance since the season started
username6 The season started in the middle of her uni year lol you ever thought of that?
↳username7 this is literally a love song, how are we even wondering if they broke up? she wouldn't release this if they were done
username6 THIS!! I feel like this song is a confirmation from Y/n that all is good, maybe she was tired of people talking if they're broken up or not
username5 Then why don't they make it official?
username6 that's not a question i can answer
username12 "I'll go anywhere he goes" then why aren't you attending races miss girl? Education can wait
↳username2 lmao it literally can't wait
username13 "the books you read" ma'am, Lando looks like he hasn't touched a single book his whole life
↳username12 And it's not like he dresses that well either, his style is nothing special
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
y/n's texts with Lando
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· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
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username1 All men are the same I swear
↳username2 nooo I swear there are good ones, but that's just not Lando
username3 excuse me sir, y/n has just written a love song about you
username4 NOOOO THE WAY HE PUT HIS HAND ON THE GIRL'S LOWER BACK
↳username1 Him and Y/n are done frfr 😭
username5 Do we know who the girl is?
↳f1gossip Not yet, but I'm sure we'll know in no time
username6 Wtf is wrong with you, it's not her fault Lando can't focus on one woman
username7 But there's no way she didn't know about him and Y/n ;)
username6 There is/was no "Lando and Y/n", they never confirmed a relationship
username8 He's just won in Miami, I was hoping they'd make it official after that :(
↳username9 Sameeee it would be so cool
↳username10 Literally same, it'd be perfect
username11 Lando Norris, you disappoint me again
↳username12 at this point Y/n must be used to that lmao poor girl I hope she finds someone better
username13 WHAT DOES TOTO SAY ABOUT IT?
↳username3 Whats he supposed to say? Y/n is a grown woman, stop treating her like a baby
username14 I swear if we see Y/n back again with him after THIS I'm gonna break some dishes
↳username15 Yeah I hope she'll find some self respect and finally leave his ass
username16 Y/n I beg you to leave him, the d can't be THAT fire
yn_wolff posted on instastory
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landonorris replied to your story:
↳mind if i join?
yn_wolff:
yeah lol don't join
landonorris:
i was gonna sail today anyway, what if we do it together?
hey i think i see u thru my window who are u with?
yn_wolff:
with dad and susie
stalker ass creep don't get anywhere near me today
landonorris:
I see another man
who is he?
*seen*
y/n answer me who is he
is that russell?
fucking russell wtf is he doing there
he better keep his hands away from you
what the fuck why are u hugging him
yn_wolff:
i'm hugging george and I'll do something worse if you don't stop with ur stalker shit
landonorris:
what the fuck do you mean y/n
yn_wolff:
don't worry, I'm sure that blonde girl would love to give you a hug, you should go see her
landonorris:
she's just a friend
y/n you're mine
she doesn't mean shit to me
don't show my texts to russell
yn_wolff:
Hello it's George, stop texting my girlfriend or we'll have to tell Toto
landonorris:
girlfriend?
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username1 Right after? The Lando thing was yesterday
↳f1gossip Yeah, and this was this morning
username2 Whats Y/n doin with George? 🤨
↳username3 in case you forgot she's y/n WOLFF, the daughter of Mercedes' boss which GR drives for
username4 After seeing Y/n's story I hoped she's finally spending some time with Lando but...
↳username5 Have u seen what Lando posted? 😂
username4 What did he post?
username5 Oh apparently he deleted it already lol it was a story
username5 Anyway he posted like a lowkey thirst trap pic and the music he added was Tumblr girls by g eazy lmao
username4 Boohoo consequences of his own actions catching up
username5 Yeahh and he especially chose the verse that goes like "fucking off and on, always stop and go, probably got someone, choose not to know"
username6 Guys, I say we take in consideration the possibility of 'so american' being about George
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landonorris Monaco weekend 🇲🇨☀
view all comments
username1 Why do I feel like he posted this just so people think Y/n was there with him even though there's not a single pic of her? 😂
↳username2 Bro why he want her when he can't have her anymore?
username3 get over it, it's your fault
username4 I feel like he's tryna say "Hey guys look, Y/n took these pics" but why would we believe it 💀
↳username1 Exactly!! We all KNOW she most likely spent the day with George
username5 Now all i think about when i see Lando is the story he deleted 😭
↳username6 totally hahah he literally called Y/n a bitch but also admitted that he can't help wanting other girls
username7 Wait when did this happen? When did he say that?
username6 he never said that, it's lyrics of a song he posted but quickly deleted
username5 He immediately regretted hahah
username8 @/maxfewtrell Tell Lando to behave, why are you even helping him with this bullshit?
username9 It's too late, you had your chance FOR HALF A YEAR and still chose to lead Y/n on, now she got someone else and you're being petty
↳username10 She let him lead her on for half a year? Damn it he should pay for her therapy
username9 I feel like she really hoped she can change him but realized "if you can't change the man, change the man"
username10 Very accurate lmao
username11 Guys, I believe Y/n and Lando were a thing for much more time than half a year, it was going on for at least a year, they were just very secretive about it
username9 Well, good for her to finally get out of this shit, she deserves so much better and I hope George will give her that
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username1 I bet Toto loves his new son in law
↳username2 He has to be very relieved to know Y/n chose George eventually
username3 We still don't know if they're dating, remember George drives for Mercedes
username4 I really hope Lando is crying rn
username5 Now Lando for sure can't trick us into thinking Y/n was with him lmao
username6 I love George for saving Y/n
username7 I love them, they're all so old money, Y/n and George are a great match
username8 MY DELULU IS BECOMING TRULULU
username9 This is our confirmation that so american is about George
username10 I feel like Y/n upgraded at some point but at one point also downgraded
↳username2 Let's not talk about it, we should be happy for her and George, at least he won't treat her like an option
username11 George is literally THE MAN for Y/n, I'm so glad she finally realized that
↳username12 Chill, let's not assume stuff before we have any statement from them, we all know where assuming can get us
username13 This is my old money dream
username14 HEAR ME OUT but I'd actually love to see George and Y/n get married one day
↳username12 THIS is exactly where assuming can get us
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yn_wolff Oh you'll like him, he's really kind andhe's funny like you sometimes, and I found someone I really like maybe for the first time
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username1 I'm so happy for them I'm gonna cry
lewishamilton Invite me next time!
↳georgerussell63 Toto said it was family only, I'm sorry, Lewis!
↳yn_wolff Ask Ferrari to invite you wtf
username1 lmao only Y/n Wolff can talk to a 7 times world champion like that
username2 YESSSS IT'S OFFICIAL
↳username1 Y/n is officially free from Lando!!
username3 I love the vibes, I love the fact that Y/n is dating a driver from her dad's team, I love the fact that Toto accepts it
↳username4 He must've been going CRAZY when Y/n had the situationship with Lando
username3 Absolutely and I think we all know about Toto's anger issues lol
susie_wolff 💝
↳yn_wolff 🩷
ymn_yln I hope George knows he's welcome in America too 😊
↳yn_wolff Of course!! We have a plane on Friday❤️
↳georgerussell63 I wanted to take Y/n to Miami so we can visit after the GP, but she refused 😔
yn_wolff Shut up I have uni!!
georgerussell63 It can't be more important than me meeting your mum
lilymhe Beautiful couple 😚
↳yn_wolff @/susie_wolff it's about you and dad💕
lilymhe Might as well be 😂
username3 Susie and Toto literally are Y/n and George in like 20 years lmao
alex_albon Finally, no more secrets
↳username2 ALBONO KNEW?
username4 Phew I can't imagine how much stress it was for him 😂
username5 George just MIGHT be the guy which so american is about...
username6 Something about this relationship makes me feel so at peace and I don't even know them in person
charles_leclerc Someone check on Lando😂
↳yn_wolff Charles 💀
username5 Is he wrong tho
username7 I laughed harder than I should've
↳username8 Betting all my money he's regretting all his actions
username9 As he should tbh imagine leading sb on for about a year, people who do this are evil
username8 Yeah, that was so wrong of him
username10 No but I need to know what books George reads tho
landonorris 👍
↳yn_wolff Stalker ass you don't even follow me
↳username4 THE AUDACITY
landonorris I hope you'll have fun while it lasts
↳yn_wolff YOU'RE the one to speak about lasting
↳georgerussell63 Not your place to worry about it🙂
username5 THE EMOJI MAKES IT SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON
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username1 "THE WAY YOU DRESS, THE BOOKS YOU READ" he dresses well✅ he looks like he reads✅
username2 He's the perfect man for Y/n frfr
username3 I'm so happy that it's not about Lando after all, I was like girl he's treating you like shit and you write a love song??
username4 I've been waiting for it for YEARS
username5 So they had a thing for no longer than since the end of winter break and already made it official
↳username2 Something Lando couldn't do for almost a whole ass year lmao
username6 But have y'all noticed how obsessed with Y/n Lando is suddenly?
↳username1 of course he is, that's how it works, he's been rejected so his fragile ego is hurt
username3 He's even liking fans' edits of Y/n😭man is manifesting hard but I doubt anything can help him
username7 Good to know George's hands are warmer than hell, they don't look like it
username8 Girlie deserved a man who doesn't have commitment issues aka is a real man, I'm glad she got him
username9 Y'all think Lando reads Y/n x reader fanfics?👀
↳username1 Totally
↳username2 I can imagine it
↳username3 He'll do it until his delulu becomes trululu (it'll never happen🔥)
username10 I'll laugh so hard if now Lando will now stop fooling around with other girls 😂
username11 Can't wait for a whole album full of love songs about him
↳username12 I don't think we'll have to wait for long
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sweetbuckybarnes · 5 months
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Who is This? - Bucky x Reader
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2
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Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?
The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.
His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.
The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.
She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.
There she was.
His girl. His wife.
He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.
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Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.
She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.
Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."
"Like you don't do that every night."
Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.
"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.
"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"
He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.
She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.
She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).
"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."
Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.
"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"
Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.
Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.
"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.
"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.
Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.
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When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.
He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.
He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.
He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.
The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"
The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."
As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"
The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"
The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.
Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.
"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.
"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.
The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.
Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"
Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.
"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."
Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"
She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."
"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.
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The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.
Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.
Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.
"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.
Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"
Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."
3K notes · View notes
vanteguccir · 3 months
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Baking blind, deaf and mute | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N participates in the Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute video, but things don't go as planned.
Warning: Begin of a panic attack, anxiety.
Requested?: Yes, @ecliphttlunar
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Alright guys, it's been almost a year since the last time we filmed one of these, I think..." Nick began, his body appearing in the camera frame, stopping next to Matt.
"Yeah, and today we have a special guest-" Matt was interrupted by Nick, who swallowed all the rest of his energy drink, stumbling back as he shook his head hard, feeling the burn go down his throat.
"Like she doesn't appear in almost every video." Chris ignored Nick's reaction, momentarily pointing to his girlfriend next to him.
A laugh escaped his throat, followed by a dramatic sound of pain as he received a slap from Y/N as a response, who rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms and looking at the camera.
"They love me more than they love you guys at this point." She murmured, pointing at the camera with her chin, blowing an air kiss towards it.
"Anyways!" Nick shouted, casting a scolding glance from the corner of his eye at Chris and Y/N, focusing his eyes on the lens. "Today we're going to do the baking blind, deaf and mute challenge, and we have a guest with us, Y/N!" He raised his left hand, pointing it towards the girl momentarily, who smiled big and waved.
"Exactly, and since there will be four of us, instead of three, we will repeat one position. Y/N will be blind with Matt, while I will be mute and Nick will be deaf." Chris explained, wrapping his left arm around his girl's shoulder, pulling her close and massaging her biceps slightly, sealing his lips over her head momentarily.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Okay, today we're going to cook a carrot cake with chocolate frosting since it's our guest's favorite." Nick spoke, his voice coming out louder than normal since his ears were covered by the headphones where music was coming out at full volume.
Y/N nodded, resting her hands on the table, unable to see exactly where she was, her eyes already covered by Chris's red bandana.
"Y/N doesn't eat ready cake mixture, so we're going to make it from scratch!" Matt added, his back resting on the counter next to the stove.
His arms were crossed, and his head was turned in the direction he thought the camera was.
"Let's begin!"
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Can someone preheat the oven, please?" Y/N asked, her head turned to the side where she heard footsteps.
A tired sigh escaped her nose when she received no response. The girl moved slowly, using her raised arms for support, feeling wherever she went.
Sudden hands on her waist made her jump in fright, relief coursing through her veins as she quickly recognized Chris's touch. The boy holds her tightly, guiding her slowly through the kitchen, until they reach the stove.
Chris lightly held her wrist, guiding her hand to the button to turn on the oven, waiting for her to do so before letting go of her hand, moving away slightly.
"What is happening? Are you still here?" Matt's voice cut through the air, his figure doing a 360° turn as he tried to understand where the others were.
"In here, Matt." Y/N replied as she walked back to the table, feeling around until she found the ingredients already separated.
The girl reached for the carrots, feeling them to check if they were peeled. They weren't.
"Chris, can you peel it for me, please?" The girl asked loudly, lifting her chin in the air so her voice could echo better.
Footsteps approached, and soon, the carrots were taken from her hands, the sound of a knife hitting the cutting board filling her ears.
The sound of screams filled the kitchen, Nick singing the songs he was listening to as loud as possible, probably dancing around the space, checking every now and then if the others were making the recipe correctly, despite Y/N and Chris knowing it by heart.
"Nick, can you shut up?" Matt asked loudly, turning in the direction where his brother's voice came from.
Nick noticed Matt trying to talk to him, looking back while furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"What?" He screamed.
Y/N, who was blindly measuring the correct amount of oil using a measuring cup, jumped in place in fright by the sudden loud sound. Her hand holding the oil shook slightly from the movement, spilling some of the contents onto her other hand and the table.
Her shoulders slumped, but she just kept going, knowing that there was nothing she could do at that moment other than fulfill her task.
After measuring the oil and flour as correctly as possible, the girl felt the table on her right side in search of the cut carrots, no longer feeling Chris' presence there.
Her hands ran across the wooden surface, grabbing the first thing she found in the belief that it was the vegetables, but instead, it was a knife.
A wince escaped her lips, feeling a sharp burning sensation spread from her right index finger to her hand. She had cut herself.
"Can I have a paper towel?" Y/N asked in a low tone, her voice coming out choppy from the pain she felt. "Hey, somebody, a paper towel. Please?"
No one answered her, Matt and Nick's arguing voices only growing louder and louder.
The girl took a deep breath, wiping her finger on her t-shirt, feeling pain and disgust at the same time at the thought of cleaning a wound on a fabric that wasn't as clean as something specific for hygiene.
Her attention returned to the things in front of herself. Y/N replayed her last steps in her mind, making sure she did everything right.
With that, her hand rescued the fuê that she knew was on her left side and began to mix all the ingredients in the ceramic bowl carefully, despite the pain in her hand.
She felt her senses were more heightened than normal, perhaps because her eyes were covered, which made her hear the different steps of each of the triplets, their voices, and in which direction they were going.
But at that moment, her attention was so focused on the mixture that she forgot to pay attention to the three boys.
"Matt, I'm not listening to anything you're saying!" Nick shouted, his tone full of sarcasm.
"I'm just asking you to stop-"
"Don't touch me, Chris!"
"Nick, stop doing that-"
"Stop talking, I can't hear you-"
The impact came suddenly against Y/N's back, causing her to hit her belly on the corner of the table and, consequently, pushing the mixture forward due to the impact. She was certain that everything had been spilled onto the wooden surface when she heard a loud gasp coming from Matt.
Y/N's lips trembled before the tears even came. She felt her eyes burning behind her bandana while her cheeks and chest ached with anguish.
"Y/N?" Chris's voice came out softly, his hands quickly ripping the bandana from his mouth, approaching his girl, ignoring the guilty looks from Nick and Matt as they both removed their respective bandana and headphones.
Y/N didn't respond, resting her hands on the table and lowering her head, feeling the fabric over her eyes getting damp little by little.
"Baby?" Chris whispered, slowly untying the knot on the bandana behind her head, being careful not to pull out any hair. The last thing he wanted was to cause pain on his girlfriend.
He felt his heart sink at the sight of her eyes closed tightly and her eyelashes damp against her pink cheeks. His own eyes quickly caught her chest rising and falling faster than normal in agitation.
Chris moved closer to her, positioning his hands on both of his girl's hips, lightly squeezing the covered skin in an attempt to ground her.
"Hey, hey, pretty girl, it's okay. Deep breaths, hm?" The brunette whispered close to her ear, casting a quick look behind his shoulder at his brothers, silently asking them to move away. "That's right, just like that. You got it, my love."
Y/N sucked in air through her nose, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it through her mouth.
After repeating the process a few times, she could finally feel her heart calm down and the anguish slowly disappear. Y/N opened her eyes slowly, blinking a few times to remove the remnants of tears.
"There's my pretty girl. Are you with me, baby?" Chris smiled kindly, his eyes shining as he looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer.
"Uhum, I am good. Thank you, baby." Her voice came out still a whisper, but in a healthier tone. "Can we continue? I really want to-"
"Wait, is that blood? Baby, are you hurt?" Chris noticed the reddish tone on her right hand, interrupting her sentence and holding her hand delicately with both of his, analyzing the small cut.
"Yeah, with that knife. It was an accident, but it's not hurting anymore." The girl tried to assure him, stroking his hands with her thumb slowly.
"Can we at least clean it? Before we continue." He asked, his tone full of hope while his eyes run through her face, trying to find any trace of pain.
"Okay." Y/N nodded, whispering with a small smile decorating her face.
The boy guided her to the sink, turning on the tap to cold water and slowly bringing her hand closer to the jet, letting the water hit the injured skin slowly, so that it didn't make her feel any more pain.
A wince escaped Y/N's throat when she felt the contact, suppressing the urge to pull her hand back.
"I know, baby. I know, I'm sorry." Chris whispered, his lips pressed against the side of her head. His free hand made small circles on her back, trying to reflect calm to her.
After a few seconds, Chris finally turned off the tap again, drying his own hand before rescuing a few sheets of paper towels. He wiped Y/N's sensitive skin slowly, wrapping her finger around a clean sheet.
"All done, honey."
"Thank you." She smiled, sealing her lips on his jaw slightly. "Can we bake now?" She asked innocently, looking at Matt and Nick, who were still watching them with guilty eyes.
Chris let out a low chuckle at her comment, waving his brothers closer again.
"Are you good, girl?" Nick asked as he approached Y/N, stroking her left shoulder lightly, his eyebrows furrowed.
"I am good, Nick. I promise." She smiled big at her best friend, hugging him sideways and laying her head on his right shoulder for a few seconds before stepping away again.
"Okay then, let's bake a cake!" Matt smiled at the camera, grabbing the nearest roll of paper towels, ready to clean up the mess before they could start baking again.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Extra - comments:
"omg I would die on Y/N's place, all this was so overwhelming 😭"
"chris is such a good boyfriend and you can see it in here, the way he helps her at the beginning? bf goals 😫😫😫"
"chris and Y/N are so beautiful together 🥺"
"the way chris was super worried about Y/N so he ripped off his bandana too quickly to help her 😔😔😔"
"I want what they have so bad"
"nick and matt feeling guilty and then worrying about her was so cute!!"
"them baking it from the beginning again only because Y/N wanted to eat that cake is so thoughtful 😭"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
Text
pink roses
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words: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, female receiving oral, CHEATING!, ex!rafe, mentions of violence and drinking, its valentines day during the second part of the fic :)
you moved on. thats what you tell everyone. absolutely over rafe, even got a new boyfriend. 
you definitely don’t think of your ex every time you kiss him or hold his hand. definitely don’t think of rafe when your new man is between your legs.
“hey baby.” darren says, giving you a tight hug after you open the door, not cradling your body against his like rafe used to.
“hi.” you smile, letting him into your house. “just give me like five minutes to touch up my makeup then we can head up.” “okay.” darren nods. you frown as you walk up the stairs, knowing its not the response rafe would have given you. he would have said that you already look perfect, not needing to touch anything up (though you would absolutely still reapply blush and swipe on some more lipgloss).
you don’t even feel like going to a party tonight, only going because darren has some friends that he wants you to meet. truthfully, you know you’re using darren. you know that he’s just a fling to get over rafe, and you feel guilty when he clearly values you and wants to show you off.
“ready!” you call as your heels click down the stairs.
“perfect.” darren smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out to his car, having to tug your dress down to not reveal yourself as you lower into the passenger side of his sedan.
“where is this party at anyways?” you ask, inspecting your fingernails, freshly painted in a lightly shimmery pink.
“topper thorton.” darren says. he must see your face go pale. “why, do you know him?”
“uh, yeah.” you pick at a nonexistent thread on your skirt. “he's my exes friend. you know, rafe. the one everyone warned you about.”
you chose to rebound with darren because he had just moved to town, wouldn't be scared into silence from rafes reputation alone.
“ah, damn.” darren says, but doesn't ask if you still want to attend. you know you're going to see rafe, and you're honestly not sure if you can see him touching other girls.
you are quiet until you get to the party, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as darren leads you inside, the music bounding out of the speakers, so loud it almost shakes the house.
“y/n!” toppers eyes are wide when he spots you. “didn't expect to see you here.”
“yeah…” you suddenly feel awkward and insecure in your dress, tugging the hem lower.
“rafe is um… rafe is on the patio. i would avoid him if i were you. he's… he's not the same since the breakup.” topper nods to you before walking away. 
“you said this rafe guy broke up with you, right?” darren asks.
“yeah.” you nod, feeling like you can't form any other word.
“then why does he care? who cares if he sees you? im not letting some random guy stop me from going where i want with my girlfriend, come on.” darren grabs your hand, tugging you towards the back of the house.
“darren, no!” you shout, but he's moving too quickly, the music too loud for him to hear you yell, and before you can grind your feet to a halt, you're out on the patio. your eyes flicker around, trying to pick the familiar face out of the crowd when you suddenly see rafe, his eyes already bouring into you.
“come on, let's dance baby!” darren says, your gaze fixed on rafe as darren moves behind you, grinding into your bum. you can't move, stuck in the power of his blue eyes.
“do you not like this song?” darren asks, having to shout into your ear as someone turns the music up impossibly louder.
“i told you, my ex.” you say, line of sight being broken by dancing bodies, finally allowing you to take a deep breath and move, turning to face darren.
“what? you not over him or something?” darren asks, his expression suddenly turning a mix of anger and disappointment.
“no!” you echo what you tell everyone. “no, it's just the first time ive seen him since the break up. it's just… weird.”
“okay.” darren says, but you can tell by his tone that he's going to bring it up later, and it's not really the end of the conversation, just for now.
“shit, there's my boys!” darren's expression quickly changes. you watch as he daps up two guys, who he then introduces to you, but you don't even hear their names, barely able to nod and smile, putting on a pretty face while your mind is other where. you know that's all you're truly there for anyways, a nice grin and tight dress for darren to flaunt.
he leads you back inside and away from the loud speakers so he can sit and chat with his friends. your eyes continually scan the room and the entryways, waiting to see those blue eyes and sandy blond hair.
“darren, baby, im gonna go use the bathroom.” you tell him as he takes a sip of his beer. you just need to move, feeling like a sitting duck just waiting for a predator to strike.
“alright.” darren literally waves you off, too enticed by the conversation his friend, who you thinks name is matt, or maybe mark. miles? 
you stand up, having memorized the layout of toppers house from parties with rafe. you know the most private bathroom is upstairs and inside of one of the tucked away guest room, a guest room rafe often took you to. 
you push past people to get to the stairs, dodging couples making out on the steps as you make your way up. you sigh when you finally get the guest bedroom door closed behind you, glad to be alone and somewhere somewhat quiet compared to the sensory overload of the rest of the house. 
you turn towards the room, ready to head towards the bathroom door when you see a slight movement in the shadow. you reach behind you for the light switch, feeling across the wall, sure that your eyes are just playing tricks on you, but as the ceiling light illuminates the room, you come face to face with the one man you didn't want to see.
“rafe, i-” you cut yourself off. you don't know what to say, have no excuse. a small part of you knows you said you had to use the bathroom just to get back into this room, look at the bed that rafe took you on so many times.
“he's not as tall as me.” rafe says. “you hate guys with that color hair.”
you urge your hand to reach for the doorknob and flee, but rafes deep voice keeps you captive.
“i would never ignore you like he does in favor of stupid fucking friends.” damn, so rafe was watching, and you couldnt even tell, probably too far in your own head.
“and im sure he doesn't fuck you like i do.” rafe steps towards you, having to round the bed from where he was leaning against the corner of the wall. “tell me y/n… does he make you cum as much as i do?”
“did.” you manage to bite out. “in case you forgot, you broke up with me. not the other way around.”
“i didn't expect you to settle for such trash.” rafe is now only feet away. he smirks as his eyes glide down your body and tight dress before landing back on your face. “you look stressed, baby. he's not giving it as good as me at all.”
rafe sighs like he truly cares about the kind of service you're getting in the bedroom.
“he's fine.” you argue back, the best defense you can manage. rafe was always able to tell when you were lying.
“so if i offer to eat you out right now, you'd say no? don't want my tongue, baby?”
“this isn’t fair, rafe.” you say bluntly. “you can’t break up with me only to tease me like this.” “get on the bed, underwear off.” rafe simply commands. your body moves before your mind does, still trained to his instructions. and once your underwear is on the floor, you figure theres no point in stopping now.
you do think briefly to darren, chatting innocently away with his friends downstairs, not a clue that your ex is about to go down on you, but when rafe lays between your thighs, your thoughts couldn’t be farther from darren.
“the most gorgeous pussy i’ve ever seen.” rafe says, pushing your dress further up your body. “missed her so much.”
rafe leans forward, tongue instantly zeroing in on your clit, switching between rubbing with the tip of his tongue and lapping over it in broad strokes.
“oh fuck!” you moan out, head pressing back into the pillow, sure to ruin your perfect hair.
“little bit louder and your new boyfriend might hear you.” rafe smirks before letting his tongue explore your cunt, even slurping at your juices.
“shut up, you’re so fucking unfair.” you groan, but reach down to grip his hair and push his face further into your pussy.
rafe shows you just how skilled he is with his mouth. there really is no comparison to darren, who you swear things your left lip is your clit.
rafe focuses in on your entrance, tongue sweeping in tighter and tighter circles until it juts forward into your hole, taking a moment to appreciate being back inside your tight heat before he begins to thrust his tongue, his thumb moving to rub your clit.
“tell me i’m better.” rafe says, barely pulling away to speak the words. “no.” you shake your head. you shouldn’t give rafe the satisfaction of admitting it, as if your moans aren’t evident enough.
“tell me or i’ll stop right now. won’t make you cum.” 
“fine.” you close your eyes, as if somehow not seeing rafe makes it less like you’re cheating. “you’re better than him. just, please.” 
you’re not above begging. you wish you could say that you were better than that, better than getting into bed with your ex the first time you see him.
“there’s my good girl.” rafe purrs out in his oh so seductive voice. he resumes movement of his thumb, rubbing you just the way you like, knowing it brings you to the edge quickly as his tongue continues to thrust inside of you.
“oh, oh my god! rafe!” you shout his name as his thumb quickens until it’s all too much, a flood of wetness gushing out as your back arches off the bed, hands gripping at the duvet. rafe continues his movements as your high works its way through your body until the snap of sensitivity hits and you have to shove his hand away.
you blink your eyes open, vision slightly blurry as you look down at rafe between your legs, face going pale when you realize that you didn’t just cum, but squirted, leaving rafes face dripping.
“holy shit, it really has been a long time since you came if you’re squirting like that.” rafe chuckles, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, only for his tongue to dart out and lick the juices off his skin.
“you-you-” realization comes flooding back of what you just did. you may know that you’re using darren, but you never intended it to go as far as to cheat on him.
“i only did what you wanted me too. even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.” rafe moves up to a kneeling position, his cock clearly straining against his pants. “want me to fuck you now baby? i know you’ve missed this big dick.”
“no!” you snap your thighs together, mind much clearer now that you’ve gotten your orgasm. “no, i-i have a boyfriend!”
“go downstairs and break up with him and then come back up here and let me hit.” rafe says, tapping your hip to get you moving. 
“i am going downstairs.” you say, swinging your legs off the bed. “but it’s because this was a mistake.” you grab your underwear off the floor and put them back on before attempting to readjust your dress and hair to acceptable levels, well aware that darren must be wondering where you are by now, having been gone for so long.
“baby-” rafe tries to stop you, but you’re already out the door. 
--
“oh baby, this is so sweet!” you plaster on a fake smile. you were easily able to explain to darren what happened at the party a few weeks ago. you got caught up talking with some old friends and the time slipped away from you. not completely a lie.
you’ve avoided being out in public at all for fear of seeing rafe. you’ve even manage to banish most thoughts of him. most… except for when he forces his way back into your mind when your fingers are in between your legs, finishing yourself off after darren had gone to sleep next to you.
“a beautiful red rose for my valentine.” darren gives you a kiss on the cheek as you smile at the rose. it’s a nice gesture, it is valentines day after all and he is your boyfriend, but you just don’t feel in the spirit of the holiday, mostly because you aren’t in love and are just waiting for the right moment to break up.
you pull out your phone, opening up your instagram and snapping a photo of you holding the red rose, quickly uploading it to your story.
“what else do you have planned for today?” you ask darren, but his face quickly grows pale and you realize he doesn’t have anything else planned, thinking a singular red rose was all he needed to please you.
“we could go to the park later.” he recovers quickly. “have a nice picnic.”
“okay, sounds good.” you nod. “i’m gonna go put this in water.”
you flee quickly to the kitchen, leaving your boyfriend sat in your living room. your parents are rarely home, spending all of their time traveling when your dad isn’t working out business deals, and it feels like darren has practically moved in since they’re rarely home, and it’s only causing a bigger divide in your relationship.
you get the rose put in a vase with some fresh water when your phone vibrates from your pocket. you grab it out, eyes widening when you see that rafe has replied to your story.
doesn’t he know you like pink roses?
the doorbell rings, making you drop your phone with a loud clatter onto the countertop.
“i’ll get it!” darren calls out before you can process the sound, suddenly rushing after him as he opens the door to reveal rafe standing on your doorstep, not just one pink rose but an entire armful of them, the largest and most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen.
“who the fuck are you?” darren asks, but rafe looks right past him to where you’re stuck frozen in the foyer.
“i’m giving y/n the valentines day flowers that she deserves.” rafe pushes past darren with ease, transferring the large bouquet into your arms.
“and you’re getting the fuck out.” rafe turns to darren, now blocking him from moving back into the house.
“fuck if i am.” darren laughs. “and she’s my girlfriend.”
“she’s only your girlfriend because i broke up with her knowing she was too good for me and needed to find someone better, but instead she settled for you.” rafe turns his head to look at you, his voice softening. “it’s okay, sweetheart. i don’t blame you.” 
“lets let y/n decide.” darren says, rightly deciding not to fight rafe, being smart for once in his life knowing rafe would easily annihilate him, but wrongly thinking that you would choose him.
“get out.” you say, eyes moving to darren. “get out, darren. i don’t even like red roses.”
“baby-” darren begins to argue, but then rafe surges forward, shoving him out of the door before slamming it in his face.
rafe takes a deep breath before turning to you, looking so small with the roses drowning in your arms.
“i’ve missed you.” rafe moves towards you, his hands cradling your face and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i’m sorry for breaking up with you, princess. thought you could do better.”
“i’m just glad you’re back.” you lean forward, rafe quickly understanding that you’re asking for more kisses as his lips glide over yours, familiar and warm.
“let me carry these for you.” rafe scoops the bouquet out of your arms. “and then you can go ahead and get ready for all the things i have planned for today while i gather your exes shit and make sure he knows to never come back here again.” you giggle and follow rafe, knowing you should feel bad for dragging darren into the mess that is rafe, but you’re just happy that he served as a distraction before rafe came back.
rafe walks up to your room, glad to be back in your house. he realized seeing you with a new guy how much of a mistake he made and knew it had to be corrected.
rafe sets the roses on the bench at the base of your bed before frowning at the bed itself, your side clearly neatly made while the side that used to belong to darren is a mess still, showing a complete disrespect for how you like to keep your belongings. 
“i’m trying to decide between fucking you on the sheets he used to sleep in or taking them outside and burning them.” rafe says, placing his hands on his hips.
“maybe…” you wrap your arm around rafes waist as you bury your head into his back. “we add buying new bedding to your valentines day plans?”
rafe turns around to take you into his arms, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “you’re always gonna be my valentine from now on, baby. i love you.”
you shift your weight to your toes as you lean up to kiss rafe, his mouth slowly moving over yours as you make out, feeling him swell against your lower stomach.
“i don’t think i can wait until after we buy new bedding, baby.” rafe groans.
“well… i do need to take a shower before we go.” you smirk, walking backwards towards your attached bathroom, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt.
“and you know how much i love to conserve water.” rafe chuckles, following you as your clothes hit the floor.
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1K notes · View notes
iluvmattsbeard · 1 month
Text
replace him (c.s)
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master list
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: very heavy smut and strong language
preview: Chris was over you constantly running to him for help with your shitty boyfriend. so he decided to take matters into his own hands.
a/n: listen to song for full effect! trust me, it's worth it. - L 🤍
Chris' POV
i was laying down in bed scrolling through instagram as I see a text notification pop up. it was y/n. I roll my eyes as I read the text.
y/n
i'm so tired of him
i sigh to myself. she was always coming to me for help. her boyfriend constantly treats her like shit. sometimes I didn't even know what to say back. she was always texting about stupid shit he says. I really didn't understand why she stayed with him. I laid there for a bit with my eyes staying still on the text.
Chris
what he do now?
i see a text bubble pop up right away and it stays that way for a while. I guess since it's her first real relationship, if you even consider it that, I understood the attachment she had.
y/n
i'll tell you in person. you think you could come over?
i was confused by the short text since she was typing for so long.
Chris
sure. only because i'm a good friend. be there in 20.
i sigh getting out of bed, heading to my closet to put on a black hoodie and some dark washed jeans. I was sort of dreading it. as much as I cared for her, sometimes I just wanted to tell her to stop talking about him. obviously i can't say that. all I could do was stay supportive.
after a bit, I finally finish and head to Matt asking him for a ride. y/n didn't live that far.
"she's having problems again?" Matt asks getting up grabbing his keys, putting on his shoes. I sigh responding, "obviously. what do I even do?" he just chuckles as he says, "well just listen I guess." I nod as I slip on my shoes as well.
we get in the car and we head to her apartment. the sun was barely going down.
End of Chris' POV
time passes as Chris finally arrives knocking on your door. you open the door after a bit, with puffy eyes. he looks at you as he tenses up. he hated seeing you like this. Chris walks in as he embraces you with a hug. you hug back as you both just stand there in silence. he rubs your back softly. "lets go sit down and talk." he says pulling away. you nod as you walk over to the couch, him following behind.
you both sit down as you sniffle a bit. all he could do was stare at you waiting for you to speak. "he lied to me about where he was. he said he was going to grab lunch with his friends but I saw his location at some random house I haven't seen before." you pause for a bit, "I confronted him about it but he just got defensive. I have every right to be angry right?" Chris just nods. you cover your face as you sigh. "I gave him everything I could. he doesn't realize all I put up with." you say. you continue to rant as he just stays silent. Chris was frustrated listening to you complain over and over again about the same shit.
"and he-" you were interrupted by Chris clearing his throat. "y/n. this is getting ridiculous. how many times do I have to sit here listening to the same shit?" you were taken a back from his response. "all he does is treat you with no respect. do you really think I want to hear about it all the time? there's a simple solution to all of this." you stay silent with a blank look. he stays silent as he waits for a response. your phone rings. it was your boyfriend. you both look at the notification. you were going to reach for your phone, but Chris picks it up before you could. "hey-" you say to him but you stay silent in shock with what he does next. he answers the call.
"hello? y/n?" your boyfriend, Zach, speaks. "look Zach. all you do is make her upset. so do me a favor, don't call again." Chris says hanging up, throwing your phone to the other side of the couch. you sit there in shock. "why would you do that?" you exclaim. "he's still my boyfriend." Chris scoffs. "look at my face y/n. does it look like I give a fuck?" he says with a serious tone. "I know what you want y/n. it's for sure not him." he says shaking his head. "Chris, this is my relationship." you say. "I know it is. yet you bring me in between to constantly pick you up. so if you want me here, stop bringing him up. stop talking unless it's about us."
you have a confused look on your face. "us?" you ask. he lets out a fake chuckle before speaking, "yeah us. I know you're with him but, let me ask you something." he says getting up. "why stay with him, when you got me to replace him?" your eyes widen at the question. "I mean i'm constantly here for you. clearly, he's not." he continues. he walks over to you as he looks into your eyes with that same serious face. you sit up straight as you keep the eye contact. "I don't know what you want me to say. i'm still with Zach." you respond. he clenches his jaw as he lets out a scoff. "again. does it look like I give a fuck?" he says. all you could do was look down at your feet.
"you can stay with him. all I can do is just make things better." he says lifting your head up by your chin. making you look into his eyes. you swallow at his actions. "but I don't trust him." he says. he puts his hand on your cheek as he rubs it softly. "let me make you forget him." again, your eyes widen at the statement. next thing you know, he grabs your hand, making you get up. "do you want that?" he asks. you hesitate before nodding slowly.
he gives a sly smile as he turns you around, bending you over onto the couch. "he won't give you what I got for you right now." he says putting his hands on your shoulders, as he slides them down the side of your body slowly. you stayed silent, giving into the moment. your breathing was a bit uneven as you felt his touch. he then uses his hand to move your hair to one side. he leans in behind you, leaving kisses on your neck softly. "is this okay?" he whispers in your ear. you gulp as you say quietly, "yes". he then stands back up straight as he takes off his hoodie, a long with his shirt. "good". he responds taking in the sight of you in front of him.
he then pulls down your pajama pants slowly. leaving them hang at your ankles. he leans down grabbing your ass, leaving soft wet kisses on it. "perfect". he says. he then leans in behind you as he grabs your face making you look at him. he grips your face kissing you hungrily. you kiss back eagerly. you knew Zach never kissed you like this. as you continue kissing, he moves his hand down to your neck gripping it, still kissing you. you felt your hot core get wet. you never expected to be in this position. yeah, you were with Zach. but Chris was living up to his words. Zach left your mind. all you could think now was how badly you needed Chris. you hear your phone ringing. you wanted to pull away and look but he grips onto you harder. "no phones." he sternly says.
he gets off you, starting to unbutton his pants. it was very evident how hard you got him. just by looking at you, bent over in front of him. he lets his pants drop below him, hanging at his ankles. he then pulls your black panties down. his eyes were filled with lust and admiration. he groans quietly taking it in. "so beautiful". he says.
he licks his lips as he pulls down his boxers taking his dick into his hand. he strokes himself as he gets closer to you. he takes his tip and rubs it at your entrance, teasing you. you move slightly, wanting him to put it in already. he lets out a laugh, "be patient". he inserts his tip slowly taking it out shortly after. you whine at his movement. he smirks as he does it again, having you go crazy.
"Chris please..." you whine out quietly. "good to know you want it so badly." he responds. he then shoves his dick all the way into your wet core. you arch your back at the feeling, letting out a moan, shutting your eyes. his thrusts were slow, driving you insane. "fuck y/n. are you sure you still want to be with him?" he says groaning.
he continues thrusting slowly but deeply, having your arms get weak from holding yourself up. "Chris you feel so good stretching me out". you moan out. he lets out a small laugh as he pushes your head down into the couch picking up his pace, your arms giving out. "fuck!" you scream out. your eyes were clouding up as he continued to thrust faster. "you take it so good." he says with a single sweat drop slide down the side of his face.
you were a moaning mess. you never imagined Chris being this good. "you're so fucking hot y/n" he says putting his hands over yours as you both grip the couch beneath. you were enjoying every moment. you've never been treated so good. "is this what you needed to help you?" he asks keeping his pace. "yes!" you scream out. he slows down his thrusts leaning back up to leave kisses on your shoulder.
he then grips your waist as he pounds you slowly with his thrusts. you rolled your eyes with pleasure at the feeling. he grunts with every thrust. your legs started to get weak as you moan out, "i'm cumming Chris." he slaps your ass as he returns to his fast paced thrusts. you released all over his dick. he pulls out, stroking his dick on top of your ass, shooting his cum all over it. he throws his head back at the sensation.
your legs were shaking, as he chuckles with his breath uneven. he cleans you up, then collapsing next to you. you lay down staring at the ceiling. you stayed silent with a smile appearing on your face thinking to yourself, "wow." Chris then kisses you on the cheek asking you, "so... what's on your mind now?" you turn to look at him before replying, "you". he smiles at your response, kissing you gently.
"call me Mr. steal your girl from how I got you." he says with a sly smile. you both let out a loud laugh. your phone starts ringing again. you knew it was Zach. you let it ring. you didn't care. Chris grabs your phone and hangs it up. "remember, he can't give you what I got." he says.
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a/n: sorry if this was short! likes and reblogs are highly appreciated. thank you! - L 🤍
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motimatcha · 4 months
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the Forbidden fruit
NSFW: headcanons about your sex life. hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader That feeling when my drafts are almost halfway through the smut with Adam that I wanted to write, but at the last minute I stopped liking that text, so I switched to something else. Everything is (not) good. I wrote this text while listening to Landon Tewers - She Thinks of Me. the meaning of the song is not at all important and has nothing to do with the lyrics, I just liked the melody.
Adam has beautiful hands. Aesthetic. When he takes off his clothes and folds his arms across his chest, rests them on a surface, or carries heavy objects, his veins appear.
His fingers are thin and well-groomed, long, like those of a pianist, which Adam never was.
Just imagine the contrast it has on you during sex. His rough, sometimes wild, character and gentle movements of his hands that slide over your entire body while he whispers all sorts of dirty things in your ear. Imagine those hands touching your hips, squeezing your skin gently but noticeably to make you feel excited and excited, and then with a knee-baring grin, he leaves you unsatisfied.
Adam can and loves to tease. His hands pass dangerously close to your sensitive places, and his words are full of subtext and hints, which are sometimes not covered at all. And because many are accustomed to the character of Adam, who speaks complete nonsense, no one pays attention to the fact that Adam literally said that he would fuck you against that wall before entering heaven.
Adam sure has a sexy morning voice. He can lie on his back, finally finding a comfortable position without his wings getting in the way, one of his arms wedged under your body and resting on your side. He brushes the hair that is falling into his face back before turning his head in your direction. A smirk graces Adam’s face as he rolls onto his side and pulls you closer to him, allowing your two hot bodies to grind against each other. Adam wakes you up with a kiss behind your ear, slowly lowers himself to your neck and whispers some nonsense to you, but you don’t wake up or pretend to be asleep, he takes it as a challenge and the hand from your hip slowly slides down, straight into yours underpants.
Adam likes the cowgirl position when he's too tired but still wants you. This gives you both an imaginary sense of control: you control the speed of the process, Adam controls the movement of your hips.
He likes to look at your hips and butt, whether in tight pants/high-waisted shorts or skirts/dresses that contour your figure. Adam basically likes to look at you in tight clothes, style doesn't matter as long as you like it. Besides that, he likes to see his dick penetrate your body slowly or quickly (well, I mean, he likes to watch your pussy swallow his dick, let's be honest). He loves watching your breasts bounce rhythmically as you move. He loves the feeling of your fingers on his chest as you lean against him, finding a comfortable position.
If you don't mind having Adam's dick in you without having sex, then please allow him. He is overwhelmed by a feeling of unity that has not visited him since the time of Lilith and Eve.
Not against quick sex (or blowjob).
Speaking of fetishes, Adam loves creampies and he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s flattered by the idea of ​​impregnating you. And the latter is not so much a fetish as his sacred duty, because he seemed to be created for this? First man, first man and all that. However, if you can't get pregnant (or it's your mutual desire not to have children due to your lifestyle), he still loves creampies.
Adam loves to leave his marks on you: hickeys and bites, especially on your neck, arms, collarbones, chest, hips... In general, wherever he can reach with his mouth and lips. Adam likes to do this not only because he finds it sexy, but because of his insecurity. He had two wives who went to a dwarf duck! Somewhere in the subcortex of consciousness, Adam wants every living and dead soul to see that you are already busy with him and minding your own business.
Adam will probably let you do anything (within reason and as long as he feels like he's in a dominant position) if you praise him during sex or tell him you wouldn't choose anyone else over him. This will upset him.
I'm not sure exactly what word is supposed to mean what I'm about to say next (at least I've seen it called "happy way", but I can't be sure), but Adam has a faint trail of hair from his belly button to the groin. And although he takes care of himself (if you ask, he doesn’t care until it starts to get in the way), but he will never remove this particular hair.
His cock is worth forgetting about toys. So are his fingers.
Adam doesn't have a favorite place to have sex, but he prefers you to be alone. Teasing in public is a whole different story!
If you want to quickly excite Adam, then touch his wings. But this should not be a light touch to the tips of his feathers, but a targeted stroking of the growth area of ​​​​the wings and between the shoulder blades.
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lovers-rck · 5 months
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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT3
pt1 here , pt2 here pt4 here
n/a finally.
ellie was lying on her bed. her eyes were closed, her mouth was mumbling the words of the song softly, not wanting to take the spotlight away from the voice that sounded through the record player.
outside, the sun was shining at its brightest, burning the people who dared to walk under its reign.
"uhg i love that song" ellie murmurs as the song ends.
"it's good" you agree. a bead of perspiration ran down the valley of your breasts "it's too hot in here. can you open the window?"
ellie nods and once it's done she throws herself back on the bed hard, bouncing you up and down. she giggles dumbly.
"you can put on your bikini if you want, you left it here the last time we went swimming"
"so that's why i couldn't find it" you can see how ellie smiles slightly "where is it?"
"second drawer on the right"
"got it."
you find your bikini folded neatly in the drawer next to her t-shirts. the bathroom feels a thousand times hotter than the whole house, so you hurry to put on your bikini top and go back out to ellie's room. she's still in the same position, singing songs from an album you don't know.
"we should go swimming again" you say as you walk in, your bare feet against the floor "it was fun"
ellie partially stands up with the help of her arms and watches you, walking around her room in your bikini top and shorts. the photo incident had already been forgotten in your mind, but ellie was still thinking about that moment.
even though she assured you that she had deleted the photo, the truth was that she still had it in her gallery, feeling guilty every time she looked at it.
"sure" ellie said, abandoning her gaze on your body "if you want to drown yourself again"
"i didn't drown" you protested "that wave came in unexpectedly"
you lie down next to her, staring at the ceiling just as she does, separated by inches. ellie's almost-kiss comes to mind, but you dismiss that memory as quickly as you can, trying not to fantasize about something that isn't going to happen.
she's your best friend. just that.
it isn't long before the album comes to an end, burying the room in a deep silence. The air is uncomfortable for ellie, who feels the need to speak up and confess her sin.
"i didn't delete the picture" she says after a few minutes.
you furrow your eyebrows and look at her "what? which picture?"
ellie abandons her gaze to the ceiling and looks at your breasts, and then at you "you know..."
the answer hits you "oh"
"i'm sorry" ellie says "i had to tell you, it doesn't feel right"
you look up at the ceiling again "why didn't you delete it?"
you hear ellie laugh lightly "isn't it obvious?"
you feel your heart in your throat, ready to come out the moment you utter a word.
"it's not obvious to me"
an immense heat takes hold of ellie's body, a heat that is not due to the temperature outside. she feels her cheeks redden and her lips feel extremely dry and suddenly the ceiling looks so interesting that she want to watch it forever.
"well..." in your eyes, ellie doesn't look as confident as usual, more vulnerable "i think i like you."
"you think?"
"okay, okay" ellie snorts "i like you"
"it's just weird" she continues "i mean, it feels weird that you like your best friend, you know? i don't know, i haven't stopped thinking about it since you sent me that picture"
you don't say anything, and ellie takes that as a bad sign.
"i'm sorry" she mumbles, looking at the ceiling and wanting to hit her head "i shouldn't have said that. i would leave if i could but it's my home so...."
"can you kiss me?" you speak and ellie looks at you
"what?"
ellie analyzes your gestures, looking for some indication that what you are telling her is a vile joke that you can both laugh at later, or pretend to laugh at.
"a real kiss this time" you say and ellie smile embarrassed as she remembers "kisses on the corner don't count"
"shut up. I didn't know how you were going to react."
"you didn't even see my reaction! you ran into the living room!"
they both laugh uproariously, although ellie laughs mostly out of embarrassment.
a few seconds pass. fifteen seconds if you ask ellie.
"well, are you going to do it?" you mutter.
ellie stands up and moves closer to you, leaning on one arm to support her weight so she doesn't fall on you. you can feel her confidence return as she provokes your lips by gently brushing hers across them but not making full contact.
"ellie" your voice comes out as a strangled moan.
and she finally kisses you.
the warmth of her lips impacting against yours and sending you into a dreamy spiral. her hands hold you as if you are going to disappear, encircling and touching your skin.
everything about her touch counterbalances her personality. her touch is kind, gentle, soft, and it's ellie's
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plasticferal · 4 months
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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)
damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.
i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.
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the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.
all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.
“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.
“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.
you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.
you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.
all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.
the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.
chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.
every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.
"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.
"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.
“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.
"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.
"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.
"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.
"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.
"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.
"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.
looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.
"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.
"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.
you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.
"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.
"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.
you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.
feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.
when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.
"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.
chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.
turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.
"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.
"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.
"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.
the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.
"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.
"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.
"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.
"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.
you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.
"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.
you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.
"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.
"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.
you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.
"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.
chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.
"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.
there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.
you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.
the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.
he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.
before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.
chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.
the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.
you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.
in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.
he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.
you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.
you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.
appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.
they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.
nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.
your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.
chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.
you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.
"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.
walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.
the room is filled with tension.
matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.
"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.
"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.
"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.
"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.
matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.
"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.
you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.
you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.
“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.
he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.
“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.
“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.
"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.
"chris," you start. he keeps talking.
“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.
“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.
“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.
"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.
"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.
"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.
"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.
"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.
"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.
"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.
you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.
"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.
you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.
"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."
"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.
"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"
"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.
"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"
"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.
"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.
your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.
in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.
chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.
the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.
you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.
"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.
he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.
"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.
tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.
turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.
you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.
"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.
"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.
with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.
"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.
his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.
"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.
chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.
"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.
he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.
"i mean it, y/n."
"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.
"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.
he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.
"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.
"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."
"i know, chris."
"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."
"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.
"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.
"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.
"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.
you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.
"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."
"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.
"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.
chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.
"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.
you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.
"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.
his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.
"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.
chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.
"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."
this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.
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nkogneatho · 9 months
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۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐
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—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader
#mlist #taglist #art commissions
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒
For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.
The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.
The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.
"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.
"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.
This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.
One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.
Put your head on my shouuulder...
You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.
Hold me in your arms, baby...
He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.
"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.
The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.
That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍
As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.
The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.
Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.
"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"
You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.
You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.
"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"
"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."
"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.
"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro when you signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.
"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.
"You said something, baby?"
"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "
"I'm running on four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.
"Are you in denial?"
"No, darling. I am in love."
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Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko
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luveline · 11 months
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𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you and miguel have different definitions of the same word. he finally gives in to temptation —featuring a cranky but lovesick miguel and a flirty, head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 3k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
This has to be your favourite song in the whole world. 
You sit in the hall beside the entrance to Miguel's office (this week, you're thinking you might call it The Bedroom, on account of all the magic happening inside), headphones on, a bottle of lemonade beside you. 
Today has the makings of a great day. You're at the Spider Society headquarters and not at home, for starters, and one of the Peter Parkers you'd made friends with in the med-wing saw you this morning and recognised you, which is brilliant because he looked super similar to every other Peter Parker you've met. He offered to help you fix your rinky-dink headphones, and now they're working again and loud enough to cover the sound of Spider Chatter, even with your enhanced senses. 
What's more, Miguel has finally emerged from his dormitory, and he's walking toward you looking confused. That's a step up from unhappy. 
He asks you something. 
"What? I can't hear you." 
He says something else. You shake your head, music too loud to catch even a hint of what he's saying, and Miguel eventually crouches down to push your headphones around your neck. He's surprisingly gentle. 
"What are you doing?" he asks. 
"Waiting for you, what did you think I was doing?" 
"Why are you sitting on the ground?" He gestures backward to a red-lit control panel. "Chair right there." 
"I think that's someone's desk." 
"It's really not." 
Miguel stands up and doesn't hesitate to grab your arms and help you up too. It means more to you than it should, because it's not necessary and a few months ago he wouldn't have bothered. Which isn't to imply that Miguel is a mean guy, Lyla says he used to be a loser (code for sweetheart), and you get flashes of it every now and then in chivalry and kind smiles. 
He's not mean, he's cranky. 
"Don't sit on the floor," he says. "Just– just go inside if I'm not here." 
"Well, The Bedroom doesn't come when I call." 
Miguel's lips part in confusion for a second. Lyla appears at his shoulder, and says, "She can't get the platform to come down without you, genius." 
"Put her name on the command list," Miguel says. 
Your eyes widen. Lyla flashes to his other side, closer to you, and smiles playfully. "Done." 
"Stop sitting on the floor," Miguel says, turning around. He walks a few steps and pauses when he realises you're not following. "Are you coming with me?" 
You jog to catch up with him. Music plays against your collar, a slinking, indie sound that makes Miguel wrinkle his nose. You turn it up a little bit and smile when he glares at you. 
You enter the atrium that houses The Bedroom. Miguel hops up onto the platform because he's too tall to see sense while you struggle, but you're pleased when he takes your hand and pulls you up properly. All these familiar touches today, anyone might think Miguel liked you. 
He definitely does. 
You sit down in the spinning chair near what you've decided is your desk but certainly isn't, again pleased beyond words when you find your sketchbook from last time still there, cleaned away carefully, pencils in a pot and a brand new pencil sharpener by the side of it. It matches your spider suit. You look over your shoulder, your face lit up with thanks, and Miguel swiftly looks away from you. 
"It's electric. Tell me when the battery's dead, I'll charge it." 
"Thank you," you say, flipping your sketchbook open to the last entry. 
You aren't Picasso, but most members of the Spider Society are somewhat artistically inclined, considering the suit-making rite of passage they must all endure —if you don't know how to sew before you start, you will by the end. 
Or like Miguel, you could cheat and make the suit out of nanotechnology. 
You haven't really been designing any suits lately. Spidering is tiring, you need to relax, and your reluctant friends are the easiest subjects, though Miguel's face is painstakingly difficult to get right. He's very angular, high cheekbones with that divot that needs kissing stat, and his nose… He's really pretty, but you almost wish he wasn't so your sketches of him held a better likeness. 
He's the only one of the regular crew that stands still long enough to be drawn. Jessica doesn't like you (or maybe she does, it's hard to tell, but she hasn't forgiven you for asking if her baby was like a maraca bead when she fights) so she doesn't let you draw her. Lyla will stand very still if you request it, but after a few portraits she got bored and started changing her hair or glasses, and after a few more she gave up. Margo is hard to focus on because her blue light makes everything else seem super orange, though she does stand in one place usually. She takes up a lot of pages, but it's Miguel you've drawn most of all. 
You go around the Spider Society sometimes asking people if they'll sit for you, but again your skills aren't impressive, so it's awkward when they want to see how you've done. There are drawings of all kinds of Spiders, including yourself, between Miguel, and Miguel, and Miguel. 
His back, the side of his face, his hands ungloved. His pointy bottom teeth mid fight. The naked stretch of his arm and his Rapture injector positioned over it. He might not appreciate that one. You rip it out and toss it in the waste paper basket under your desk, where it incinerates, paper smoke curling up toward the extractor fan on the atrium ceiling. 
"What are you doing?" he asks without looking at you, his gaze on one of his marigold coloured monitors. 
"Drawing." You're not drawing so much as sitting there with a coloured pencil in hand, trying to think of conversation starters. "What are you upto?" 
"According to the program, there are no Canon events today at risk of disruption," Lyla chimes in, "so Miguel's doing chores." 
"What, not one bad thing is gonna happen today?" you ask. 
"Nothing we can predict," Miguel says. 
You swap your pencil for your drink, unscrewing the lid of your lemonade to sip at it leisurely. Today is your favourite kind of day. No fighting, lots of time with Miguel, and music to go with it. You're so happy you could melt. 
Miguel turns to you and sees your stickying smile. 
"What?" 
"Nothing. Just happy to be here with you," you say.
"Don't say stuff like that," he says, turning back to his screen. 
"Scared you'll actually experience sincerity?" Lyla asks. 
"Lyla," he warns, as though Lyla might be afraid of any consequence he had the power to inflict. 
"Sorry," you say, not very sorry, but not wanting him to be uncomfortable, "it's just nice, being friends with you."
"We aren't friends." 
You're not quick to take offence with Miguel. He can be cruel. He's hurting, he's unhappy, he has a lot on his plate. Oftentimes he's so tense with apprehension his neck locks up and you hear it clicking as he turns one way or another, or if he isn't apprehensive he's disappointed, furious, upset. You give him the benefit of the doubt because you know him, but you don't know the tone of voice he uses now. It's like he's offended at the insinuation. Like he would never, ever be friends with you. 
You put your lemonade on the desk and don't know what to do. His insipid floating platform is too high now to leave without causing a scene. Maybe when he's busy you can web down and go home. All you know is that you desperately don't want to be near him. But home sucks, and the dormitories are worse. You're stuck. 
"You can be so mean," you say softly, turning back to your sketchbook and pencils. 
You're thinking you might draw him with a bunch of bee stings, or find a previous sketch and cross his eyes out.
"What?" he asks. 
Your hackles rise. "You're mean. Don't talk to me." 
"What?" Miguel stands very still. "Y/N, what?" 
"What do you mean, what? I said something nice and you said something cruel. I get it, okay, we aren't friends, so don't talk to me." 
"I've upset you." 
You stare at your blank page. "It doesn't matter." 
"No, I've said the wrong thing." 
"Miguel, don't bother. What else could you mean by that?" You laugh with little humour. Crestfallen doesn't begin to describe how you feel. "I'll be quiet. I just don't want to be at home." 
"What's wrong with home?" 
"Is there ever much right?" 
"Did something happen?"
"We aren't friends, so why ask me?" 
You bite the inside of your lip as Miguel approaches, his footfall hushed over the lightweight metal flooring. You turn to him in your chair, head tilted back to meet his eyes, arms crossed over your stomach defensively. 
"That's not what I meant when I said that." He speaks slowly, firmly, to avoid any misunderstanding. "What's wrong with home, mi cielo?" 
You tap his ankle with your shoe, looking away from his gaze. You don't want to tell him, and if he keeps looking at you like that, you will.
"¿Qué pasó?" He bends at the waist slightly, bringing his face closer to yours, dark hair falling into his eyes.
"I don't know what that means," you murmur.
"Did something happen?" he asks.
"Nothing happened, it's just– it's lonely there," you say, squirming under the weight of his gaze, his sudden caring. "What's with you? One minute you're not my friend, the next you're worrying about me? You're giving me whiplash." 
He stands up, and his face falls back into a more typical emotionlessness. He's clearly feeling something, but he's wiping the slate clean. 
"When I said we aren't friends, it didn't mean–" He grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were staying in the women's dormitory?" he asks, frustrated.  
"I am, but I'm useless, and they don't really respect me because I'm–" 
"Eccentric?" 
"–not as experienced," you finish, eyes flaring. 
"Oh, my god," Lyla says, appearing in front of him to make sure he sees her delight at his slip up. 
Miguel bats her hologram with an annoyed grunt. She disappears again, her tinkling laughter cut short.
"It's a good thing," Miguel says quickly.
You stand up. "It's not the point." 
"You should feel at home in the dormitory, and if you don't, I'll find you somewhere else to stay here, you don't have to be in there if you don't feel welcome."
"Miguel, you're sounding awfully friendly right now." 
"We aren't friends," he says again, stepping closer to you. "What's so hard to understand about that?" 
"But we spend time together. We have fun. You like me, Miguel, you do, you tell me jokes sometimes, you make me things for me. You… you do like me, right?" 
"You know that I do," he says, his eyebrows pinching together. 
"You like me, like, you want me," you say, just to make sure.
His fist clenches hard enough to make an audible sound. Miguel's voice is fraught, and through barely parted lips, "If you know that, what's the problem?" 
You don't know. Maybe it was silly to worry about how he sees you, because you do know that Miguel likes you, but you also know he hadn't wanted to like you. His attraction to you was reluctant, you're not stupid enough to miss that, and it was important to you that whatever tension sexual or otherwise lingering between you had bloomed into mutual affection. 
"I want us to be friends, too," you say. 
"I thought we were more than that." 
It's such a quiet admission. He isn't afraid to say it, and he isn't reluctant like you feared. 
"Miguel," you say. "I want you to like me. I know I can be off-putting, I know I tease too much, but I don't want you to like me despite those things, I just want you to like me. So, when you say we aren't friends…" 
"I've never heard you say three serious sentences in a row," Miguel says, reaching out for your hand. He pulls you toward him slowly, his fingertips gliding up the length of your arm. "Then again, it's the same nonsense as usual." 
"Miguel–" 
"Of course I like you. How else do you need me to say it? I like you and I want to kiss you, I like you and I like that you're irregular. You want us to be friends? Then let's be friends." Miguel's hand closes around your bicep. His thumb presses against soft fat and muscle alike. "But not just friends." 
Relieved, you sigh. "So you're saying we really weren't friends?" 
Miguel leans down until his face is the only thing you can see. His smooth skin, his dark eyes, their darker flush of too-long lashes; it's unfair how pretty his eyelashes are, how they curl, how they bunch in triangles you have to fight to resist touching. His eyebrows so often slightly set, giving him an unhappy expression even now. 
He brings the hand that isn't clasped at your bicep to the hill of your waist. It's hot as a brand, and it pulls you closer, your neck craning with every inch he steals from between you. 
"We can be friends," he says. 
His fingers twitch against your arm, and his hand begins to climb. It's not as slow as it feels, conquering the curve of your shoulder, your neck. His hand is big, his thumb pressing into the column of your throat gently.
He looks at you for a measured lapse of time, and you know, finally, that you're on the same page. 
"What you said before, 'mi cielo?'" You hold his elbow. "What does that mean?" 
"My sky," he says. "My… my heavens. It's saccharine. It's something teenagers say, when they're," —his voice dips, the hand at your waist squeezing tight like you might slip through his hold—  "infatuated." 
"Just teenagers say that?" you ask.
"No," he allows. "I always thought it was too much." 
"But you–" 
"Yeah. I did." 
The first kiss is surprisingly sweet. On the tail end of words, Miguel presses his lips half-parted to yours, slowly, softly, like the brush of a downy feather. He lingers, and it's your own movement that spurs him on —you shudder up into his lips and he loses control. 
The sound he makes is a shock. You try to pull back to check he isn't hurting, and he lets you until he realises why it is you're pulling away. "It's fine, it's okay," he says quickly. 
Assuaged of your concern, he pulls you back in and he kisses you, he kisses you, his hand squeezing too tight and his nose bridge sliding up against yours from the force of it all. Your chest feels like a pit and you need Miguel closer if you're ever going to fill it, your hands snapping up to his face like magnets. There's no need to pull him down to you, he's already wading in, not wading —crashing, kissing you so hard your lips burn. 
You make a sound that says, hopefully, This is really fun, but don't give me a bruise.
His tongue is a heat at the seam of your lips. Your weight bends, your chest leaning into his front. He doesn't hesitate to ease his hand behind your back and prop you up against him as things get heady, and the only thing you can feel is him. 
All those times he almost kissed you, all those times he couldn't cross the gap. He poked and prodded and provoked you into getting into his space and each time you called his bluff. You wanted Miguel to give in, and now he has, it's the meltiest, most stickying warmth you've ever felt. 
Voices sound far away, off the platform and down the hall. Jessica and someone else, approaching fast. 
Something sharp snags your bottom lip as Miguel pulls away. You press your finger to your sore lip. When you pull it away, blood spots your skin. 
Miguel takes your face into his hand and angles your face to a glowing screen carefully, in total juxtaposition of the grip he'd had on your waist. 
"Sorry," he mumbles, the tip of his fangs catching the light. His adrenaline must be high. 
"Excited?" you ask him breathily. 
He wipes your lip with his thumb. The other hand pet's your cheek. You feel suddenly and smotheringly adored, all his attention on your pinprick wound. 
"Everything okay up there?" Jessica calls. 
Miguel drops your face like he's remembered himself. You turn to your newfound company, Jessica Drew and an unhappy looking Gwen Stacy. This high up, there's no way they can see the state of either of you, mussed hair and Miguel's blushy cheeks, but they'll see you eventually. And Miguel might like you, might want you, might be your more-than-friend, but he's a stickler for appearances, and being found kissing your subordinate dizzy when you're supposed to be working would mortify him.
"I cut my lip on a lemonade bottle," you call cheerily, waving at grumpy Gwen. Her lips perk up. "Miguel's trying to tell me it's my fault. Is lemonade usually sharp?" 
His hand flattens subtly at the small of your pack. 
"Thanks," he murmurs. 
"Welcome, handsome. Is it bad?" you ask, turning back to hip with your lip pouted. 
His eyes visibly soften at the sight of you. "Not that bad." 
"Alright, good. You'll have to let the platform down, I need to go." 
"What? Where are you going?" he asks. 
"If we're friends now," you say, lilting, performing a half spin in front of him just to watch his eyes narrow, "I'm going to have to make us bracelets. Friendship bracelets." He clearly doesn't like the idea of being friends still, so you amend with a softer tone, "Friends and whatever that was. Come on, you'll love it. I'll make it match your suit." 
He rubs the space between his eyebrows. 
"Will you bring your stuff here?" he asks, the platform beginning to lower under your feet. 
"Duh. I need to take lots of measurements. I'll be in your hair all day, you'll hate it." 
He nods like he agrees. "I'll hate it," he says, deadpan. When he's sure Jessica and Gwen aren't looking, he gives you a smile you've never seen before. 
You and I have a secret, it says. 
Lyla appears by your shoulder to instantly tell him otherwise. It goes without saying that she's mildly disgusted and extremely smug. "Don't match it to his suit, Y/N. Mr. Heartthrob here needs something soft. How about some baby pinks, hm?" 
Miguel sighs, but you barely hear him over your excited gasp. "Yes! Pink and white, for sure, that would be so nice." 
"Great," Miguel says. "Perfect. Thanks for that, Lyla."
"You're so welcome!" 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D please reblog if you have the time ♡
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zarla-s · 6 months
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We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...
It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.
Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.
I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.
How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.
I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.
I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D
(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)
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thinking of mermaids AGAIN sooooooooooooooo
Merman!Ghost x Mermaid!Reader (for Mermay 2024)
cw: dubcon elements, rough sex, SELF-INDULGENT and therefore weird mermaid biology, (suspend disbelief idk and idc about mermaid biology, i just wanted to write ghost fucking a mermaid.), forced?-ish breeding (both parties were aware of the risks)
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Merman!Ghost who's actually a selkie... of sorts.
Merman!Ghost who took the coat of a GREAT Greenland shark over three centuries ago and has lived as a shark ever since...
Merman!Ghost who's a deep dweller and has become quite the hunter, using the darkness of the depths to attract dumb prey so he can kill them.
Merman!Ghost who's not above mauling humans, in fact he despises them, especially when he finds them hurting animals. Sure, he kills them, but he's an animal himself.
Merman!Ghost who when he's bored causes issues on purpose, including scaring fish and other underwater life, and finds great humour in it.
Merman!Ghost who constantly gives trouble to fishing boats by trying to sink them, slamming his tail on the side of them to send them rocking side to side... and by ripping their nets with his teeth...
Merman!Ghost who has had horror stories and cautionary tales told of him by many navigators, pirate captains, sailor crews... who has become somewhat of a legend, a myth, and gets referred to as "The Creature".
Merman!Ghost who's not immune to mermaid song, surprisingly enough, but who can resist it plenty well.
Merman!Ghost who hears the lilting of your voice through the dark water but doesn't seek you out.
Merman!Ghost who succeeds in resisting... for days, weeks, months...
Merman!Ghost who awakes to the endless sound of your singing bubbling into his ears, and gets lulled to sleep by it as well.
Merman!Ghost who finds himself going insane by your voice, that follows him like a backdrop for every waking moment of his life, and cannot tune it out.
Merman!Ghost who eventually bites the bait and allows himself to rise from his domain.
Merman!Ghost follows your voice as it carries for miles upon miles.
Merman!Ghost who comes across a natural cave by the beach. Way too close to the beach. Close enough for him to know he'll end up washing up and getting stuck.
Merman!Ghost who checks both sides, making sure the beach is empty before he tentatively strips off his coat for the first time in years.
Merman!Ghost who stashes his coat between the rocks, covering it with algae before he dares venture into the cave.
Merman!Ghost who can't see as easily without the shark eyes, who can't swim as well without the shark fins, who can barely walk because all his human muscles are atrophied.
Merman!Ghost who wades in waist deep water into the darkness of the cave, looking around for you, his burly, calloused hands using the rocks as crutches to seek you out.
Merman!Ghost who only notices you when it's too late... when your song suddenly stops and the water splashes as you dive back in.
Merman!Ghost who watches you zoom past him in the water, a slippery fishtail propelling you in a zigzag amidst the rocks before you emerge out of the cave.
Merman!Ghost who watches you grab his shark coat and try to make off with it...
Merman!Ghost who takes his sweet time returning back to the mouth of the cave, watching you bob on the water with a mischievous smirk on your lips.
Merman!Ghost who demands "Give it back."
Merman!Ghost who scowls when you tell him "No." and "If you want it back, you have to marry me."
Merman!Ghost who crosses his arms and glares at you, shaking his head and refusing.
Merman!Ghost who scowls even more when you tell him "Then I guess it's bye bye to your skin.".
Merman!Ghost who despises being a human more than he despises the prank you're pulling on him.
Merman!Ghost who tries to negotiate and offers you something in exchange for his coat.
Merman!Ghost who pushes you against the rocks at the entrance of the cave as the cold water and seafoam wash over you both while he kisses you, pressing his tongue, the only warm part of his body, into your mouth, toying with yours.
Merman!Ghost who licks at the salty sea water glistening on your skin and the scales adorning your pretty neck, an arm wrapped around the small of your back.
Merman!Ghost whose human fingers, pale and wrinkled from the salt water, wrap around your exposed breast, softly tugging on the pert nipple while his mouth kisses and sucks at the patches of skin amidst your scales.
Merman!Ghost who tsk's at you for having been singing for so long to attract him, and scolds you for getting him so riled up for weeks on end with your song.
Merman!Ghost whose hands push you up onto the rocks so he can dip his head down your chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it slowly and watching you mewl and cry so beautifully.
Merman!Ghost who gets a reminder of the one positive side of being a human, as his human cock rises up suddenly and stiffly, large and thick, already oozing precum against your tail scales.
Merman!Ghost who carefully grinds his leaking cock against your slick cunt, right before the spot your thighs meet and blend into a tail.
Merman!Ghost who turns you over, bending you over the rocks, one hand on the back of your neck, the other steadying you around the bones of your hip...
Merman!Ghost who plunges his hooded cock deep into your cunt, causing you both to cry out in delight, eyes rolling and jaws going slack as he bottoms out.
Merman!Ghost who bullies his cock deep into your cunny, feeling how your warm, gummy walls contract and squeeze around him while he groans loudly.
Merman!Ghost who pounds away at you again and again, hearing your voice go high-pitched and squeaky with each snap of his hips, finally shattering the mind-numbing and intoxicating mermaid song he's had stuck in his head for weeks.
Merman!Ghost who watches you squirm and whine as you cum around his thick cock, nearly choking it with how tight you get, before he slams his hips against the back of your tail a few more times, and shoots his cum deep inside you.
Merman!Ghost who watches smugly how blissful, quiet and calm you are after he's done, breathing heavily and your body buzzing.
Merman!Ghost who snatches his shark coat from your hands as you're too fucked out to remember you're meant to keep it out of his reach.
Merman!Ghost who puts his shark coat back on and morphs back to the shape he's comfortable in, then wraps his maw around your tired body, beginning to drag you underwater with him.
Merman!Ghost whose body rumbles with a laugh when you try to get free and loosen his grip on you, demanding he let you go.
Merman!Ghost who tells you "I thought you wanted me to be your husband? Well, I made you my broodmare too... Now I have to take care of you."
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thegnomelord · 8 days
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me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3
oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!
-❀
Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.
Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price
Help a Bear Out
CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3
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Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.
But he turns massive in winter.
He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.
Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.
As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.
And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.
Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?
Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.
A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.
"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.
The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.
Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.
Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.
Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.
Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.
Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"
And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.
Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.
Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.
Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.
And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.
Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.
It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.
Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.
You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.
You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.
Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.
And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.
"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.
He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.
And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.
The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.
Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.
The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"
"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.
Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"
You honestly don't know how long you will last.
Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.
Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.
"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.
Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."
Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.
“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”
"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.
He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"
Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.
Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”
That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.
You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.
As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.
It's gonna be a long winter.
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afterglowsainz · 15 days
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guilty as sin? | oscar piastri
summary: you and oscar can't be together, but that doesn't stop either of you from wanting each other
warnings: drinking, mentions of masturbation
word count: 2k
a/n: this song is my hyperfixation rn! also, i don't write smut (which is not what this is) but i had to include the last part of the fic, the nature of the song forced me to!
the tortured athletes department series
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everyone and their mother knew that you and oscar liked each other, but things were never that simple between the two of you.
oscar being an f1 driver for mclaren in his second year and you being a pr manager for f1, dating within the workplace was a complete no; besides the fact that it just made things more complicated than they had to be, it was also forbidden by your boss. that and also the fact that the two of you were too proud to be the first one to give in, so neither of you did. it was a bit immature, sure, but it was what it was.
so since you couldn’t be together, the only way to fight the feeling was simply date other people, and you both did that well. for oscar it was easy because he usually just went back to his ex, which made you extremely jealous because she was the only woman you thought you couldn’t compare to, they had years of history, and you were the relatively new girl, how could you stand up against her? easy, you couldn’t, or so you thought. finding someone for you wasn’t hard either, unlike oscar, you didn’t date the same person the whole time because you didn’t have an ex, so you just picked a boy of the month and made oscar jealous, which was quite easy because oscar got jealous of every guy who even looked at your direction.
at this moment, at the after-party of the miami grand prix, it was one of those rare moments where none of you were dating and you were both single, but still, not together. you had to admit you’ve been drinking shots of vodka since you arrived at the place and haven’t stopped since, which made you a bit tipsy but not drunk. you were on your way out of the bathroom when you accidentally slipped on a wet patch at the club’s floor and you had to lean on the person closest to avoid falling.
“oh.” a small shocked sound came out of you. “sorry, i’m sorry.” you apologized to the person next to you, who put his arms around your waist to avoid you from falling.
“it’s okay.” you hear your favorite voice in the world and look up to see his face close to you.
“hey.” you smile.
“hello.” he answers with his beloved australian accent.
“didn’t see you there.” you look at your surroundings, the bathroom was in the dark side of the club and not many people were around
“yeah, i was hiding.” he admits. you nod in understanding.
“alone?” you arch your brow after not seeing any of his friends nearby.
“i just need a second.”
you nod again. oscar can get overwhelmed very easily so you knew what he needed.
“have you been drinking?” he asks now. you avoid his eyes, focusing on the people dancing in front of you.
“yeah.” you admit. “that’s not why i almost fell though, the floor is wet.” he chuckles and nods with a smile. “have you?”
“just a little, not much.” you turn to look at him and it was now him who was avoiding your gaze. “where’s your boyfriend?” he asks.
right. you forgot to tell oscar that you broke up with the last guy you were seeing. it was stupid, really, you just didn’t like the way he dressed, he wore skinny jeans and hoodies most of the time and that irritated you for some reason. he was also not oscar.
“we’re not together anymore.” you say waiting for a reaction which you get.
“oh?” he asks, arching his brow and looking back at you. his expression however, stays the same.
a scary thought crosses your mind and you feel sick almost thinking of it, but now that you thought of it you can’t forget it, so you just ask.
“did you get back with lily?” you wait for what it feels like an eternity for his answer, but it only really takes him about three seconds to respond.
“no, we’re not together.”
you felt like breathing out all the air in your lungs in relief, but you didn’t out of respect.
“nice.” you say instead, which earns oscar another chuckle.
“yeah.” he says simply.
you stand by each other in silence, just watching the people around you not having a single care in the world. like it was a gravitational force pulling you to him, you started getting closer and closer until your hands were touching each other. you were feeling bold that night, bold enough to maybe make the first move. when you felt his finger rubbing against your hands you snap your head to look at him, but before you could talk you hear a male voice interrupting you.
“y/n”. they called you.
at lightning speed, oscar gets away from you and you feel like punching the person who interrupted you. when you turn you see the face of one of your best friends who also happens to work in formula 1.
“just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” he says. “you left a few minutes ago.”
you smile at him like you internally didn’t want to kill him.
“all good.” you answer. “just catching up with oscar here.” you tilted your head towards the australian until your friend finally noticed him.
he looks a bit shocked when he realizes he interrupted you.
“hi mate, how are you?” he asks him, a bit shy, trying to play it cool. oscar just smiles slightly at him.
“all good.” he looks at your friend and then back to you. “well i should get back with them.” he tilts his head towards lando and some of the other drivers.
you couldn’t think of anything fast enough to make him stay, so you just nodded. he said his goodbyes and left you two alone.
“mate!” you finally recriminate your friend and playfully slapped his arm.
the laugh that erupted from him was a mix between amusement and regret.
“i’m sorry!” he apologized, taking you back towards your other friends through the club. “i didn’t know you were together, we were actually worried.”
“that’s fine.” you respond while rolling your eyes. “let’s just drink.”
you spent the next hour forgetting about the world around you and just drinking and dancing with your friends like it was the last night on earth. it was also pretty fair to say that you were already drunk at this point. not embarrassingly drunk, you could still stand on your feet and have a conversation without dragging your words, but you were definitely beyond the point of being sober.
“i have to go to the bathroom again.” you screamed at the ear of your friend and she nodded in understanding.
“do you want me to go with you?” she screamed back at you. you shook your head.
“i won’t take long.” she just nodded and let you go.
this time you weren’t planning on taking as long as it took you last time, you just wanted to go back to your friends as soon as possible to continue having fun. but just like the first time, the only person in the world that you wanted to be with was right there again, next to the bathroom exit and somehow hiding in the shadows, but this time you saw him.
“oscar!” you screamed over the music.
he snaps his head towards your face, always finding you in a room full of people. a smirk appears on his face as you approach him and you can tell by the look of him that he has also been drinking more.
“thought i wouldn’t see you for the rest of the night.” he whispers once you’re close enough.
you take your time to answer, just taking him in.
“hiding again?” you ask.
“too many shots.” he says. “needed to take a minute.”
you bite your lip shamelessly and he notices it, immediately wishing it was his instead. 
“oscar.” you smile and whisper his name.
“y/n.” he whispers back, his eyes fixated on your lips.
you mimic him and lower your eyes to his lips as well. since you were drunk and every ounce of shame left your body long ago, you’re bold enough to touch his chest, your hands traveling all the way to the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.
“oscar.” you whisper again, touching his cheeks, just wanting to feel him. “oscar.”
you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. your face inches away from his.
“y/n.” he whispers again.
you think that is gonna happen, it’s definitely gonna happen right here right now, but everything comes crumbling down when you feel a different pair of arms pulling you away from your waist.
“hey, there you are!” someone exclaims and the connection between you and oscar immediately breaks. “sorry mate, she gets touchy when she’s drunk.” the voice says and you instantly recognize it as one of the friends you came with.
“i’m not drunk!” you defend yourself, facing him with a frown on your face for ruining the moment.
“right.” he says incredulously. “she’s touchy all the time.” this was now directed at oscar.
you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs for having your moment with oscar ruined for the second time in the night, but you controlled yourself, allowing your friend to grab your back and direct you to your friends.
“bye, oscar.” you whisper, waving your hand slightly.
he doesn’t answer back, but you can see the strained smile on his face and the nod he gives you. when you’re far enough, you look at your friend with impotence.
“what the hell was that?” you yell. “didn’t you see i was busy?”
“that was me saving your ass.” he says without major emotion. “you were about to kiss oscar drunk and you and i both know that’s impossible.”
you sighed and crossed your arms like a little girl throwing a tantrum. working in formula 1 was hard, and trying to date in it was even harder, almost impossible.
“is it ever going to be easy?” you ask no one in particular, but your friend answers anyway.
“well, it’s you and oscar, so probably not.” you think about it for a few seconds until he interrupts your train of thought. “come on, we were leaving already.” he says.
you follow your friends to the exit of the club and get into the first uber that’s taking you back to the hotel. the trip doesn’t take long and you just chat with your friend for most of it. once in the hotel you say goodbye to everyone and go up to your room, trying to catch some sleep. 
it shouldn’t be hard to fall asleep considering that you’ve been working all day and you just spend hours at the club, however, there was one thing at the back of your mind that didn’t let you rest. you couldn’t shake the feeling of oscar’s hands in your body back at the club, almost cornering him into the wall, the two of you just feeling each other. you were frustrated for sure, tossing and turning in bed for an hour straight until you couldn’t fight the feeling anymore. 
you bit your lip for a moment, thinking if this was actually appropriate, but soon enough the intrusive thoughts took over your mind and you just think fuck it. 
you touch yourself that night with only one person in your mind, wishing it was him that was making you feel good, knowing that he would make you feel even better; you screamed his name when you climaxed. before you can think of what you just did you decide to go to bed as soon as possible, finally feeling tired enough to sleep.
ten minutes after you went to bed, you missed oscar’s text asking you if you were still awake, which he deleted five minutes after you didn’t answer him.
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