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#i need someone to come hit me over the head any time i even think about looking at the notes on a post that i know has garbage comments
greatooglymooglyyy · 2 days
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The Last Ride Chapter 9 (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)
summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.
requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper
contains: cursing, physical fight, verbal altercation, crying, cheating, lots of emotions, kissing, smut!, 6.9k words
a/n: holy shit y'all this is long. sorry. also links aren't working so you might have to go to the browser if you need the masterlist. love y'all
series masterlist
The silence doesn’t last long around us as Uncle Buck and Dad come running towards the commotion. But Chris doesn’t react to their shouts, leaning down and grabbing Jace up by his shirt. I finally make myself known, going to kneel beside Jace until one of Chris’ friends grabs my arm and shakes his head.
“Say it again.” Chris almost begs, his voice dark and dangerous like he’s looking for a reason to hit him again.
Jace’s eyes spew pure hatred back and he curls his lip up in disgust. “Get your fucking hands off me. Do you know who I am?”
“I think you’re a fucking baby who doesn’t know how to respect women.”
For whatever reason that causes Jace to get more upset, as if it isn’t partially true. I feel frozen, like I’m watching a movie unfold in front of me and there’s nothing I can do to affect what happens.
Jace attempts to get up, it’s unclear whether or not he’s trying to get back at Chris again or just simply standing up but the boy on top of him isn’t having any of it.
Chris slams Jace back into the ground, pushing his back into the slightly rocky dirt. “Let me get up asshole” Jace spits out, clearly embarrassed by the crowd of people watching him get his ass kicked.
All that can be heard is a petty laugh from Chris as he looks down at Jace one last time. “Nah. Go ahead. You’re tough. Speak about her that way again and see what happens, pretty boy.”
For once in Jace's entire life… he’s silent. He just looks to the side to avoid eye contact as Chris gets off of him. I thought this was the end, that the nightmare was over, but of course, it’s Jace we’re talking about.
“That bitch would never even like you.” Jace mumbles under his breath, eyes still trained on anything but Chris.
Unsurprisingly Chris looks down at him, both figuratively and literally. What does surprise me, however, is how Chris immediately spits at the pathetic boy on the ground. “Leave my girl the fuck alone, for good.”
This really set Jace off. Despite his inability to commit to a proper relationship, he was always possessive of me. “Your girl? She's only had one dick down her throat and it’s certainly not yours.”
He’s propped up on his elbows now, a familiar smug smirk on his face. All I feel is a pit in my stomach at his words. His words are spoken in front of everyone I care about.
I’m not a slut. It’s only ever been with Jace, and I never once enjoyed it as much as I thought I was supposed to. But Jace always told me I was good. For a long time, his approval was enough for me.
It became less about me finishing and more about having someone to tell me that I was doing a good job. And now he’s sharing my most intimate details in front of all these people. In front of Chris.
I feel eyes on me as the tears well up in my eye sockets, my arms crossed over my body to cover whatever dignity I have left.
Chris takes one look at me standing there watching in horror, before focusing back on Jace who’s now standing up. Jace clearly thinks he’s won this one since he still has a smug smirk even as he wobbles, but his nasty words don’t stand a chance next to the fuming boy who’s walking back towards him.
It all happens so fast, Chris’ sharp boot being kicked into Jace's side with full force. Jace is knocked back into the dirt as Chris shows no sign of stopping his painful movements.
Within a few seconds, my uncle is walking toward Chris to pull him back by his shoulders. “Get the fuck off me!” Chris yells out, eager to return to where he left off.
But Uncle Buck just pulls him back further, his grip strong. “Take a walk boy.”
“But-“ Chris tries to argue but it’s clearly a lost cause because the gaze in my uncle's eyes is more serious than Chris has ever seen it. He drops his head, breathing heavily, too full of respect for Buck to argue.
“Take a walk. Figure out your shit. Then come back, son.”
“Evie?” He asks softly, looking more like a kid being put in timeout than the man who just kicked someone’s ass for me.
“Birdie’s got her. Go.”
Before he does, we lock eyes one more time. But all the anger seems to have vanished from his features and he just looks… disappointed. Before I can even think of something to say, he turns and walks away with his hands on his head.
Once he’s out of eyesight, the crowd starts to dissipate since it’s clear the scene, and the party for that matter, is over. My uncle helps Jace from the ground with my dad’s help and I finally regain my ability to move.
As I come closer, Jace takes a step back like he thinks I’m going to take the next swing. Honestly, I really should. But I just clear my throat and narrow my eyes at him. “Bitch, huh? Too much baggage for you?”
He scoffs, his eyes damn near bucking out of his head. “That’s what you’re worried about? I was just viciously attacked! I need my fucking lawyer.”
My lip curls up in disgust as I watch him pat his pockets for his phone and come up empty. “I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. You’re such a fucking loser.”
He pauses and looks up at me, giving me a hateful look that turns slowly into a wicked smile. “You want to talk about losers, sweetheart?”
Since I know him well enough to know when he’s going in for what he thinks is a kill shot, I brace myself before shrugging and forcing a mask of indifference. “You can’t hurt me anymore, Jace.” I lie. “I don’t care.”
“What about her?” He says, nodding at Lydia from where she stands a few feet away. As soon as she meets my eye, she goes frozen and pale as if she’s seen a ghost. And before he says another word, I know.
Memories resurface so quickly, that it feels like I’m watching them happen to someone else. Lydia freaking out whenever I touched her phone. The way Jace always remembered only two of our group’s orders at Starbucks- mine and Lydia’s. How conveniently they always seemed to end up near each other at events and parties.
My breathing hitches as I face her fully, fighting as hard as I can to keep my composure. “How long?”
“Y/N, please-” She tries to croak out, but I cut her off with a wave of my hand.
“How fucking long?”
She doesn’t answer for a moment and Jace chimes in behind me with an arrogant flair. “A year. About a week after we fucked to be more accurate. Great week for me.”
Before I can blink, my dad snatches him by the shirt and throws him against the side of the house. “I suggest you start watching your fucking mouth. It’s gonna get you hurt.” Dad lets him go and steps back with a warning look. “Go get your shit so I can get you back to your daddy.”
My head is reeling as I look around dazed. The expressions range from anger to shock, and even worse… pity. I can’t take it anymore, so I turn to rush to my room until I hear Jace call out behind me.
“And tell your little boyfriend, he can expect a call from my attorney.”
I freeze and look over my shoulder, surprising both Jace and myself when I burst into laughter. “Try it and I’ll tell your dad every fucking thing I know. I’ll start by advising him to check his gambling books.”
All the smugness abandons him as he goes white at my words so I give him a huge grin of my own. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
************
By the time I finally force myself to get out of the bath, I’m feeling completely numb. I’d sat in there for an hour, basically just staring at the wall and trying to figure out how I’d been so stupid.
I’m not even sad, not really. But there’s this ache in my heart like something is missing. I guess that’s what happens when you love someone for this long and lose them. Or maybe this is just proof of what my mind has been telling me all along- that I could never be enough.
When I’m dressed, I sit on my bed and check my messages. I’ve fallen out of the habit lately but tonight I’m longing for connection. There are a few worried texts but I ignore most of them, only answering Abby and letting her know I’m okay.
There’s a message from Brielle swearing she had no idea about Lydia and Jace, but I’m not sure if I can believe her, and I don’t have the brainpower to try to figure it out tonight. She’d left along with the other two at my dad’s insistence and I honestly think it was for the best. At least until I figure out who I can and can’t trust.
A sharp knock sounds on my door and I sigh deeply and toss my phone before telling them to come in. Birdie strolls in holding a plate of the Welcome Home cake we never got to cut and I can’t help but smile.
“Hi, my bunny. How are you feeling?” Her voice is so kind and the question is so genuine, I feel like I’m about to crumble in her hands. I try, I really try, not to Iet a tear fall as I nod quickly, but I fail.
She rushes over to me, places the cake on the nightstand, and takes me into her arms. “Let it out, honey. You’ve earned it.”
So I cry. Even though I’m not that surprised, even though I maybe even expected it. I cry for all the wasted youth I gave him. For all the effort I put into trying to be a girl he might love. For all the parts of me, I threw away to make room for him.
And yes, I maybe even cry for Lydia. For the days when I’d have called her my closest friend. I sob into my aunt’s arms until there’s nothing left to give, until my head throbs and my chest aches. Until, before I know it, I’ve fallen asleep.
*************
I wake up with a start to an empty and dark room thinking I must have slept through the next day, but realize it’s only been a couple of hours. What the fuck? Isn’t heartbreak supposed to keep you asleep or something?
Groggily, I wrap my throw blanket around my shoulders and head into the living room to see who’s still awake but, to my surprise, it’s empty. I guess they decided to go out since I did technically ruin their party. Fair enough, honestly.
There’s not much to do in the house alone, so I decide to go see the one girl I know who won’t ever let me down. I just hope she’s still awake.
When I get to the stables, the door is cracked a bit and I raise an eyebrow. There must already be someone here. I look down at my pajama pants that I haphazardly stuffed into my muddy work boots, trying to decide if it’s worth the humiliation. Then I remember the events of a few hours ago…yeah, way past that point, I guess.
I don’t know what I expected to find when I pushed the door open, but it definitely wasn't this- Chris leaned against the back wall, knees to his chest and his head in his hands.
He hears the squeak of the door and looks up, his blue eyes stormy and dark. We hold each other's gaze for a long moment, neither of us saying a word until he finally stands.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll go.” He goes to rush out of the door so I move over to block it and panic, saying the first thing that pops into my head.
“Where’s Evie?”
He pauses, not expecting the question, and blinks quickly. “She..uh.. I took her home.” A look of guilt passes over his face and he flinches. “I can’t believe I fought in front of her. Thank god Birdie grabbed her before she could see me like that.”
He sounds so disappointed in himself that I want to pull him in for a hug but I hold myself back. “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
Chris levels me with a look so fierce a shudder goes down my spine. “Don’t do that. That’s on him. Not you.”
“I just don’t understand why you did it,” I admit, studying his boots instead of his face out of nervousness.
“If you think I was gonna sit back and let that bitch of a boy call you out of your name, you’ve lost your mind.” He grinds out with disgust, his skin flushing red as anger seems to settle back in over him. He starts to pace back and forth as my eyes track him in frustration.
"But what does that have to do with you? You’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with me." I say, fighting to keep my voice level and calm. I don’t want to make whatever has forced its way between us bigger but I’m tired of guessing at how he feels.
He laughs bitterly, still refusing to meet my eye as he shakes his head. “Have I? Is that right?”
I sigh, running a hand over my face. “There you go again, speaking in riddles. Why can’t you ever just be direct? I’m tired of playing these games.”
Chris finally stops his pacing and turns to meet my eye. “Games?” He asks, disbelief clear in his tone. “You think this is a game to me? I wasn’t ever playing with this, Scotch.” He gestures between the two of us widely before he spins away from me again, locking his arms behind his head.
The seconds stretch on as I stare blankly at his back waiting to see if he will say more. Just as I’m about to leave him to his thoughts, he faces me again, seeming to come to a decision.
“Fuck it.” He says simply as he crosses the space in three long strides and catches my mouth in a kiss. He braces his hands on either side of my face, the movement so abrupt and passionate that it takes several seconds for my brain to catch up.
The momentum of the kiss causes my back to hit one of the empty stalls slightly but I don't care in the slightest when Chris’ lips are on mine.
He pulls back for a moment, realizing his body moved before his brain had a chance to comprehend what he was doing. “Is this okay? I’m sorry. I don’t ever do shit like that. I just-“
I cut him off with another kiss, my hands pulling down his head to attach his lips back onto mine. This kiss is a lot different than the others we’ve shared in our time together. Usually, it’s short and sweet with smiles and small talk in between, but the passion behind this one is much more clear.
His hands trail on my sides causing me to shiver slightly at the touch. He detaches his mouth from mine again, but before I can get confused about it his lips make contact with my neck.
The way his lips suck softly on my bare skin has my head thrown back in pleasure, his hands coming up to make contact with my chest. “Fuck, Chris. I need to feel you.” I breathe out, reaching my hands towards his belt.
I can feel him hesitate, stiffening when I make contact before he groans and pulls back. His face pulls up in a helpless look and he shakes his head. “Not here.”
I furrow my brows as I try to pull him back to me but he doesn’t budge. “Why not?”
He gives me a look of disbelief as he gestures at our surroundings, kicking his feet at the hay for emphasis. “Scotch, ain't no way in hell I’m having sex with you in this dirty ass stable.”
Disappointment and a tinge of rejection tug at my chest as I nod and take a step back. “Okay.”
Tutting, Chris tilts my face up to his and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. “Don’t give me that look, baby. You know how bad I want you.”
As he speaks, he drops kisses lower and lower down my jawline until he finds a sweet spot on my neck, running his tongue slowly over it.
“But you deserve a bed…” He swirls his tongue as he pauses, his hand on my hip slipping just below my waistband. “And I deserve time.”
Moaning slowly at the sweet torture, I let myself melt into him until the frustration is too much and I push against his chest. “You making me even more horny is just mean if you’re not going to do anything about it.”
His eyes widen slightly at my desperate words as he pulls away, clearly not expecting that from me. “I..uh..never said that.” He looks around the stable. “Just can’t do a thing about it here.”
His answer was not a no, which is all I needed. I reach my hand down once more, fingers making contact with his obvious boner before I lean into his ear. “If you can’t do it here, then you’d better find somewhere you can.”
He searches my face for signs of uncertainty but he comes up short, leaning down to place one more kiss to my lips before replying. “Yes ma’am.”
***************
“Okay, Scotch,” Chris says, turning to me as he throws his truck into park. “We’re gonna have to be very quiet.”
“Why? Are we hunting wabbits?” I ask sarcastically in my absolutely atrocious Loony Toons impression.
He gives me a completely unimpressed stare before he tilts his head up toward the sky. “God, why? Why’d you give me this cornball?”
“Okay. Okay. What’s the plan?” I ask through my laugh, my stomach doing an involuntary flip when his eyes land back on mine.
Instead of answering, he watches me for a second before leaning over the center console and pulling me in for a kiss. It’s short and sweet, his thumb caressing the side of my face. I feel the heat rising to my face even before he pulls away. “Just follow my lead.”
I do exactly that, stepping carefully over the gravel and stepping to the side as he slowly unlocks and pushes open his front door. It makes a long creaking sound and we both hold our breath as we slip inside.
His house has the same classic farmhouse feel as my aunt and uncle’s except for a more antique touch. I smile when I see the floral patterns that adorn almost all of the furniture in the room- a grandma classic.
As if it wasn’t hard enough to keep my steps quiet, Evie’s toys are scattered across the floor like little landmines. I see Chris grimace as he sends a toy car zooming across the carpet accidentally. Just when I’m about to laugh at his clumsiness, I land down on a giant piano mat and suddenly I’m playing Beethoven with my feet.
Our eyes widen at the loud notes before Chris wraps his arms around my waist and snatches me off it. We freeze like we’re in a spy movie and we’ve set off a laser but we don’t hear any movement.
We take the stairs two at a time, moving as silently as possible until we reach the top. As soon as we do, Chris bursts into quiet laughter. “I knew I should have made her pick up her shit before bed.”
After what feels like an eternity we finally make it to his room, one of only two doors on this floor. He opens the door for me and ushers for me to go in first but I can’t help but feel completely awkward.
It’s one thing in the heat of the moment, but the stinging in my foot from where I stepped on a Lego has distracted my mind slightly.
When he closes his door behind him, I study him nervously before whispering, “Do we still have to be quiet?”
Shaking his head, he walks past me and takes a seat at the foot of his bed. “It’s only me up here. I mean, don’t yell or nothin’.”
This pulls me out of my awkwardness a bit and I give him a teasing smile. “Damn. I guess I’ll just have to wait to hear you scream.”
He raises an eyebrow and laughs, prodding his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “You wish.”
Still a bit too nervous to initiate anything, I take a moment to study his room. It’s a lot cleaner than I’d expect from a blue-collar boy, with only a few piles of clothes scattered around the floor. His bed is even surprisingly made.
His walls though are very typically bare, hosting only a small shelf of trophies, a framed Lil Skies vinyl, and a few pictures of friends and family on a corkboard. I scan them curiously, always desperate to know more about him.
I recognize a few of the friends but the picture of him being held by a woman with his eyes holds my attention. He looks about five years old, holding a cotton candy cone with a huge grin as he looks over at her. I run my finger over it gently, before deciding not to bring it up.
Instead, I go for something lighter and turn to point at the vinyl. “Okay, so, there’s being a fan, and then there’s an obsession. Why is it framed? I don’t even see a record player, you fraud.”
His eyes widen in faux offense and he puts a hand up. “First of all, don’t question me about the GOAT-”
“So debatable-”
“Second! You expect me to believe you don’t have a record player collecting dust at home? No chance.”
“Actually,” I say, rushing to defend myself. “It’s definitely been used, thank you very much.”
“How many times?” He questions, leaning forward and manspreading his legs.
At my very obvious wince of guilt, he scoffs and crosses his arms. “Lemme guess. It’s got Bluetooth, don’t it?”
“Okay,” I say, laughing and shaking my head in shame. “Shut up. I hate you.”
“You don’t.” He says with complete certainty and I roll my eyes. There’s that cockiness I’ve come to expect. But when I look back at him, it feels like the energy in the room has shifted a bit and I almost want to squirm.
He holds my eye contact with intensity before he gives
me a soft and firm, “C’mere.”
Anxiousness almost nails me to my spot but I fight it to walk over and stand between his legs, resting my hands delicately on his shoulders as I look down at him. He runs his hands up and down the sides of my legs, pausing to pull me in closer before continuing.
There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than kiss him at this moment so I do. Bending slightly, I press my lips to him in a slow and casual kiss that quickly turns more passionate. He lifts me onto his lap for more access before he hesitates and pulls away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, his eyes bouncing between mine as if trying to detect if my mind has changed. “Nothing has to happen tonight just because you’re here.”
Even without the undeniable honesty in his tone, I would have believed him but hearing him say it out loud makes it that much easier. I nod profusely, leaning back in to kiss him again but he dodges it and takes my face in his hands.
“Gonna need you to say it, Scotch.”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything than I am about this, Chris. I need you.” I make sure to keep my eyes on his so he knows I mean it. But the minute it’s out of my mouth, it’s like a switch flips as he pulls me back in roughly.
He kisses me wildly, his lips moving against mine with every bit of neediness that I’m feeling as well. When his tongue touches mine and coaxes a tremor out of him, I realize just how much power he’s handed over to me. But before I even have the chance to test it again, he flips us over, placing his body over mine as he slides me higher up the mattress.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss with him on top of me to take a turn. My legs are wrapped around him while his hands rest on my ass in order to pull himself closer to me. I can feel his bulge on me through the restriction of his jeans but it only makes me want him more.
He seems like he's slightly lost in the kiss. That or he’s too scared to do anything else. I pull back, a sight whine in my tone as I look him in the eye. “You do know you can touch me right?”
“I just want to make this good for you,” he replies, seeming uncharacteristically sheepish. It’s not often I see him so nervous which only makes me laugh through my breath.
“You’ve already made me more wet than I've ever been and you’ve only kissed me,” I whisper, causing a smile and a sense of relief to wash over him. “I just want to know what it’s like to do this sort of thing with someone who cares about me.”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, as if the answer isn’t blatantly obvious, his hands sliding up my sides again. This time though they’re under my shirt and the feeling is overwhelming.
I nod quickly. “‘Of course I do, Chris.” He smiles, dropping his head back down to my neck to suck on the skin softly. I get lost in the feeling momentarily, his fingers slowly tugging at the fabric that keeps me from him while I try my best to remain still under his touch.
As amazing as it feels, I grow impatient quickly as the throbbing between my legs overtakes any regular thought. “Chris please.”
He pauses on my neck for a moment, lifting my shirt above my head to leave me below him in the Victoria's Secret bra Lydia bought me for my 16th birthday. His eyes linger for a moment before he finally responds, a teasing smirk on his face. “Please what?”
I shake my head and fix my messed-up hair slightly. Of course, the asshole on top of me is going to make me spell it out for him. “Stop making me wait for you.”
“A whole damn summer of driving me insane and you think I’m gonna rush this?” He scoffs playfully before his lips make contact with mine again. His hands find comfort on my chest, causing me to arch my back into the touch.
Expecting another cocky remark at my neediness, it takes me aback when instead he just instructs me to sit up, his voice taking on a deeper affliction. It takes me a second to comprehend why I'm sitting up for him until his hand snakes behind my back and unclasps the lacy fabric with one hand.
It feels very real suddenly but I try not to let myself get anxious under his gaze. I keep my eyes on his face, his kind open eyes reminding me there’s nothing to be worried about. He’s not Jace.
“You’re so beautiful. Like really fucking beautiful.” He whispers as he takes the fabric off me fully, leaving me exposed below him.
Before I can leave behind another snarky remark about how long he’s taking his head dips down to my chest. He places a few kisses on my collarbone before his mouth finally makes contact with one of my nipples.
His tongue swirls around the bud and my hands can’t help but falter to his curly brown hair. The feeling of his lips sucking on me while his hands explore the rest of my body.
He’s true to his word on taking his time with me, and for once I don’t feel the need to rush it and get it over with. For once sex doesn’t feel like a chore.
Slowly, his kisses on my chest travel down my stomach, a soft noise left behind with each one. I squeeze my thighs together in order to relieve some tension that I'm not entirely sure what else to do with.
His fingers begin unbuttoning my pants and tugging gently before I lift my hips to grant him access. He slides them off along with my socks in one swift movement.
“Wait,” I say, causing concern to overtake his face in the dimly lit bedroom.
“Are you okay? We can stop,” he replies, pausing immediately and pulling back.
I just reply by lifting his t-shirt over his head, messing up his hair slightly. “Now we’re more even.” I smile.
He returns my smile, relief in his eyes as he kisses me. A more intimate kiss than before, a softer one that reminds me there’s more than lust between us. “I really like you.” He says, voice low and urgent as if he needs to make sure I know.
For whatever reason this does it for me, more than the touches and the way his hands rest on my side. Not that I didn’t know but the confirmation lights me anew. He really likes me. He likes me for me and not some made-up version of who he thinks I should be.
“I like you more,” I reply, a huge grin plastered on my face as he lowers his body back down to align himself with my center.
He kisses just above the line of my underwear, his thumb placing light pressure on my clit through the fabric while he replies. “Impossible.”
His hands pull on my underwear slowly, as if asking for permission which of course I grant eagerly. Lifting my hips to help him out, I can’t help but flush at how slowly and sensually he pulls them off. He whispers something under his breath that I don’t catch but sounds a bit like ‘beautiful’ before he comes back to me.
Expecting him to slide inside of me at any moment, I sit up and reach down to undo his pants but instead, he pushes me back into the mattress and swats away my hand.
Just as I’m about to question him, I feel his hand reach down to make contact with the wetness that’s pooled up for him, his fingers exploring my entrance slightly as his palm places a light pressure to my bare clit.
I try my best not to moan out at the slightest contact, finding it embarrassing how sensitive I am. It’s not like I've never had an orgasm in my whole life; I just haven’t had one at the hands of another person.
His lips find comfort on my neck again to place a few light kisses before shifting his body down on the bed completely. I shift uncomfortably as his hands slowly slide down my body, the touch leaving prickly goosebumps behind.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this, yeah?” He asks as his face is completely aligned with the section of my body that’s practically begging for him.
“Chris I swear to god if you ask me that again I'll-“ I’m cut off by his tongue licking a stripe through my folds, testing the waters and realizing just how easy it is to get me to shut up.
I place my hand over my mouth at the feeling of his nose brushing against my sensitivity, trying my best to keep my hopes still under his touch.
He pulls off momentarily before lifting my legs over his shoulders to grant him easier access. “If you thought I was going to have sex with you without getting a taste, you are out of your mind.”
I don’t bother replying, refusing to prolong the teasing any longer. But embarrassingly my heart can’t help but flutter at his desire to make me feel good. It’s nice being prioritized for once.
His lips wrap around the throbbing bud as he uses his tongue in an urgency I wasn’t expecting. My hips lift slightly up to meet his face but a hand pushes me into the bed by my lower stomach to keep me still.
My stomach is tensing at the pleasure of his tongue flicking repeatedly and it's near impossible to not let out any noises. A few small whimpers escape my lips without a second thought causing me to cringe slightly at the thought of anyone hearing this.
He slows his movements every once and a while to place delicate kisses on my lower half, practically cherishing me before he continues his relentless work on my clit.
My heavy breathing fills the room and it hitches at the addition of one of his fingers. It slides into me with ease and immediately curls upwards at a teasing speed.
A moan slips out of the palm of my hand and I can feel him smile against me as his finger stretches me out and his tongue continues the flicking movement.
I feel the build-up in my stomach approach but I’m scared of releasing my hand from my lips. I’m not used to having to hold back real moans during sex.
So I tap him on the shoulder, causing the boy to immediately look up at me with eyes that have my heart beating out of my chest. He watches me as pleasure coils inside my stomach, a look of satisfaction and wonder in his eyes.
He pulls his lips away from my core to place another loving kiss on my lower stomach. “Can I put another one in?” He asks, looking up at me for permission.
I nod with a slight fear lingering in my head. Chris' fingers are definitely larger than my own.
He dips his head back down to refocus his attention on my clit momentarily before carefully entering another finger into my core. It must be obvious that it’s been a while because he works slowly.
Soon enough the stretching turns into pleasure and a gasp slips from my lips as he curves his fingers deep inside of me, deeper than before. As his fingers curl up to hit the sweet spot I could never reach, his tongue swirls against my clit at its fastest pace.
His other hand rubs soothing circles against my hip as I cling to him, pleading for more as his tongue and finger find a rhythm.
When I feel my high building, it’s so intense, so unlike anything I’ve experienced before, I almost want to run away. But I’m like putty in his hands as he works over my body, every kiss feeling like worship.
I say his name through a moan and meet his eye as waves of pleasure crash over me, his movements pausing and giving me a break as I ride it out. He crawls up my body, a grin on his face as I settle down and go weak in his arms.
Chris presses kiss after kiss to my face until I giggle and pull away to look him in the eye. “That was-”
“I know.” He cuts in, his cocksure smirk snapping back into place as he raises a brow at me. I roll my eyes and shove him up, unable to hide my smile at his quiet laughter.
We both pause for a second, him seeming unsure how much further I want to go and me not being used to taking control. But something about the way he’s looking at me fills me with confidence and I pull myself back over his lap, straddling him.
He sits up against his headboard, moving me with him, and places his hands on my hips as he studies me. I can see from his expression that he wants to ask yet again if I’m sure, so I cut him off with a hungry kiss, grinding myself against his jeans.
Straining even harder against his pants, he groans and gives in, reaching down to tug off his belt quickly. I slide off of his lap so he can stand and get off the rest of his clothes, my eyes frozen on his bulge as he removes his boxers.
My jaw drops as his length is revealed and I tear my eyes away to give him an incredulous look. Before I can stop myself, I stutter out a stunned, “Is that going to fit?”
His eyes dance with amusement, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing at me before he nods. “You can take it.”
Stepping over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box of condoms before going to put it on. My heart starts to flutter a bit when I realize that it’s a new and unopened box and I hide my smile.
Finally covered, he walks back toward me so I lie down on instinct, figuring he’ll turn me around if he prefers backshots but he tuts and shakes his head. “Uh uh, baby. This ain’t a laid back kinda night.”
He lifts me and takes my place, bringing me down to straddle him again. Panic floods me as I realize what he wants. “Chris… I don’t know…I’ve never done that before.”
Embarrassment makes me look away from him but he grabs the back of my neck and gently tugs me down for a kiss. “It’s okay, Scotch. I got you.”
Nodding slowly, I let the feeling of safety settle over me before I give up control. Chris guides me up by my hips, placing me against his dick but letting me set the pace.
With a steadying breath, I slowly lower myself down inch by inch, gasping as he fills me. When I think there’s no way I could possibly take anymore, I look down and realize he’s only halfway inside. Meeting his eyes, I give him a helpless look and he squeezes my hips.
“You’re alright, baby. Just like that.”
I can hear the strain in his voice as he tries not to move to let me adjust and it spurs me on until I completely bottom out. Chris whispers a quiet string of curses, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Fuck, I knew you’d feel like this.”
Moaning at his words and feeling my wetness pool around him, I rock my hips and throw my head back. I swirl my hips, trying to find a rhythm that feels right until Chris lifts me again.
This time, he’s more urgent and a bit rougher, tugging me up and down as he thrusts his hips up to meet mine. I move with him, letting him push deeper inside of me until I want to scream. I want to lean down and kiss him again but the friction between us feels too good to break the rhythm.
Deciding to fight for my sliver of dominance back, I brace my hands on his chest and set my own tempo. It clearly drives him crazy, his hands gripping my hips tighter as he moans out my name. Not a pet name. Not even Scotch. But my name. And the way it sounds on his lips is enough to have me clenching against him.
“Fuck.” He groans, his hands traveling up to squeeze my breasts as they bounce with our movements. “That’s my fucking girl.”
My moans must get too loud because he pulls me down and smashes his lips against mine, swallowing every whimper he coaxes out of me. I try to hold off when I feel another orgasm tearing through me, desperate to stretch this feeling out forever. But it’s no use.
“Chris, I’m coming-” I try to say against his lips but he already knows, pulling back to watch me fall apart on top of him.
I press my face into his shoulder as I come around him, my teeth grazing his skin as I shudder with pleasure. Knowing I’m about a second away from tapping out, he picks up his pace, his lips going to the base of my throat.
He lets out a strangled sound before going limp and wrapping his arms even tighter around me. Neither of us moves a muscle, not even bothering to pull out as we breathe heavily skin to skin.
There’s a moment of fear, of insecurity, when I’m not sure what will happen next. So I lie as still as I can hoping to prolong the moment when everything changes. The fear stays as he finally pulls away and goes to clean up. It persists when he comes back and hands me an oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers.
It isn’t until he’s laid down beside me, my body pulled flush against his that I understand. Not until he leans me back to press a sweet and casual goodnight kiss on my lips.
He’s not anything like the boy I loved before. He can be a safe place to land
🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos @teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @fratbrochrisgf @bueckerssturns @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo @fwskullz @luv4kozume @breeloveschris @leighbronk @sophia-77n @xoxo4chrisss @ribread03 @h3arts4harry @chrissystur @pepsiboyy @watercolorskyy @sturnsmia @rorylovesmatt @fake-sturniolos @slut4chriss
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half-bakedboy · 1 day
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one hell of a story
For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen
Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.
read on ao3 or under the cut
“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”
----
Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face. 
“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that. 
“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks. 
“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!” 
“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he��s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later. 
“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession. 
“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays. 
Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?” 
“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares. 
Then he focuses on saving their lives. 
The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction. 
He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough. 
All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark. 
“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 
“I think he’s coming to!” 
“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!” 
When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. 
“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming. 
“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—
Taylor. 
He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face. 
“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man. 
He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips. 
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”
“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”
“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face. 
As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger. 
Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…
“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?” 
Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages. 
“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes. 
“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear. 
Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.
“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.
The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself. 
“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?” 
Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?” 
There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!” 
All of which are ignored by both of them. 
Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing. 
“I think I just might,” Evan agrees. 
“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”
“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…” 
“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?” 
“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.” 
“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully. 
“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan? 
“118.” 
With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster. 
“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.
“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue. 
And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect. 
(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”) 
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ataraxiaspainting · 2 days
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Can you write for black swan as a yandre?
Lovers Forever, Until The World Falls Down.
Yan Black Swan x F Reader.
Synopsis: Her tarot cards are just as well used to predict the past as they are to predict the future.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, major spoilers for Honkai: Star Rail 2.0 and 2.1 Updates, implied stalking, and mentions of violence/character deaths.
Word Count: 1.3k.
*~*~*~*
When Black Swan’s eyes first lay upon you, she has multiple impressions of you.
The Remembrance has caused her to have manifolds of judgments, some lapses and others more thorough. But never once did the Remembrance ever cause her to be so deeply enveloped in someone that she would proudly showcase what Fuli has blessed her with.
She knows what you are, all of you. Your past, present, and future… all of it is seen within the eyes of the Garden of Recollection.
It is only natural for her to want you to know her as much as she knows you. With social creatures comes the need to connect. When it comes to Black Swan, her wants and her needs are equally important, and thus she has no need to separate them.
“What brings you to me, fair maiden? What ails you?”
The only sounds that arise from you are slight grumbles, and the only fresh sights she has of you are fading tear stains on your cheeks. As a response, she repeats her words softer this time, crosses one of her legs over the other, and rests her head on one of her gloved hands.
“I want…” You start, clenching your nails into your palms so deep they almost bleed. “To know the… thing that killed my friend, Memokeeper.”
In her other hand are a few of her beloved tarot cards, tucked so lovingly between her pointer and middle fingers. 
“Ah,” Black Swan lets out a sigh so gentle you do not hear it. “I presume you are speaking of Miss Robin?”
You nod, looking down at your lap as she lays out the cards in a simple, singular motion on the table.
“Who else would I be talking about?” Your tone is that of an angry hiss, but she knows it is not directed at her. For you, you two had only just met. But to her, with the powers that come with the followers of the Remembrance, it feels like she has known you your entire life.
Black Swan’s gaze is all-seeing, and nothing that is not in the dark can be unseen once she has seen it–even when she wishes it were otherwise, like that dance she had with that Galaxy Ranger.
She wishes now that perhaps she was dancing with you instead.
“Pick a card,” The Memokeeper requests, her now free hand gesturing towards the sight she had just made. “We’ll continue from there.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head slightly as she closes her eyes for a moment. From that expression on your face, she can tell that you have to stop yourself from scoffing at her. “Just trust me; I don’t mean any ill will towards you… and nor will I harbor any.”
“I’ve heard odd things like this about you, Miss Black Swan, but I didn’t think they would have been true.” She knows the comment is not an insult, but it is not a compliment either. “Do people blessed by the Remembrance always act like this? I’m… just curious is all.”
When you point to the card on the center’s right. “Are you planning to replace me already? I thought we were getting along quite well…” 
She turns over the card as her palm faces you, and that causes you to loudly gasp. 
“The Eternal Freeze… Jarillo-VI.”
She turns over the card on the center’s left without asking you to pick another. She stifled a chuckle.
 “Cocolia Rand. A Silvermane Guard trapped in what looks to be a block of ice…”
One after the other, things are revealed. It is faster than either of you could catch your breath. It is faster than what you wanted it to go. It is not faster than the realization that hits when Black Swan connects all your memories into a perfectly completed puzzle.
“Stop it-”
“You have lost someone before, haven’t you?” She can imagine… no, presume, the suffocating atmosphere surrounding you, as you appear on the verge of gasping for air. “You couldn’t save them either… Am I right, Miss [First]?”
You don’t answer, but you don’t look angry anymore. Despite the venomous nature of her words, her tone manages to grow even gentler as she utters them.
“Despite everything you tried to do, you couldn’t save them… Who were they, if you don’t mind me asking such a thing, oh dear citizen of Belobog?”
You avert your gaze from her, once again opting not to respond. Black Swan patiently waits, arranging the cards in her hand to create a semi-circle. As a Memokeeper, she has acquired numerous lessons from the Remembrance, but the most valuable one is knowing the significance of patience.
The fingers that wrap around your own are both warm and freezing cold.
“My… partner.”
She tilts her head to the side, her lips pursing up into a kind smile. “Ah… I see… I didn’t know.” She lies. “I’m sorry for your loss. But… my apologies for saying this… if you couldn’t even save your partner from the blizzard, I believe you cannot avenge Miss Robin’s death.”
Your eyebrows simply furrow like she expected them to.
“For Peniconians, death is a grand illusion, a state of falsehood, something that is not supposed to exist within the Dreamscape… thus, something much more powerful than you or I or even the Family had to break the rules of the Harmony and become… well… Death.”
When Black Swan’s eyes look at new tears as they start to fall, she has only two impressions of you, the others fading away like an amnesiac’s memories.
“I don’t mean any harm when I tell you this. It is the truth, plain and simple.”
Her hand squeezes slightly against yours. Once again, you do not respond.
“You do not have to fight something you cannot defeat.” She scoots her chair slightly closer to your side of the table.
She is met by a few more moments of quietness before you ultimately choose to break the silence. “Her death will be in vain then. Just like theirs. I do not want to be a coward anymore.”
Another sigh escapes her lips, and once again it is not out of exhaustion but rather curiosity.
Her grin remains unwavering, just as she had taught herself to. “You were never a coward in the first place, dear.”
Black Swan continues to move her chair quietly, but not at all subtly, until your thighs touch hers.
“I really won’t be able to… at least help the Family?” You ask. “I am really not… useful?”
“You’re useful in other ways to the people you love and trust, and those who reciprocate.” Her initial judgment is that you require safeguarding from the dangers of the world. It is in your best interest, her best interest, to remain inside a safe and small space, as there is a risk of you inadvertently harming yourself while attempting to assist others.
“Am I?” You mutter, clasping your hands together. “Am I… really? People… really like me?”
She affirms with a slight movement of her head.
Black Swan's second opinion of you is that you pose too great of a risk to be released, as it would result in her being left alone without any chance of ever seeing you again.
It is selfishness that prevents her from showing the two remaining cards, both hidden elsewhere. One of which has the depiction of you dead, and the other has you smiling proudly as she watches from afar in hiding.
The Remembrance has taught Black Swan how to be many things, but it is Black Swan who has taught herself how to be selfish.
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kangaracha · 3 days
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head above water | chapter 2
also written by @keepswingin
---
pairing chan x reader, jeongin x reader
genre love triangle, coming of age, angst, sickfic, friends with benefits, college au
summary Homework, a small business, overbearing parents, a boyfriend that isn't a boyfriend. And then there's whatever is going on with her best friend, who seems to want something...more than a friendship, if he ever gets around to asking her about it- life is complicated, and far too busy for Y/N to be bothered with being stressed, or sick, or whatever it is that's making it hard to eat and sleep and focus on her work-
status ongoing
taglist OPEN
previous | masterlist | next
---
Seungmin throws a granola bar at you as you slide into the seat next to Jeongin, the wrapped snack hitting your shoulder with enough force that you shoot him a glare that could kill as soon as you're settled. Felix smothers a soft laugh in his next bite of sandwich, while Jeongin's arm brushes your shoulder as he reaches over and picks up the offending granola bar, inspecting it for a long moment, before launching it at Seungmin's head.
Hyunjin ducks from beside Seungmin, even though it's not needed with Jeongin's aim as the bar hits Seungmin directly in middle of his forehead. When he returns to his full height, he rolls his eyes and glances at you like you're the problem.
"What?" you ask, knowing your voice is a pitch too high to be innocent. You can't keep the smile off your lips, and Jeongin isn't really bothering to hide his either as he reaches nonchalantly for another fry. "He threw a snack bar at my head."
"Does that really make it okay to throw it back at his head, even if he does deserve it?" Hyunjin deflects, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes," Jeongin interjects, shooting Seungmin a look. "Maybe we shouldn't throw things at all. If only someone got the memo."
"Shut up," Seungmin says, rolling his eyes. He tosses the bar back over to you, this time with a much lower aim as it lands pitifully in front of you, wrapper crinkled and letters bunched together forming something far from the name brand. "Eat," he tells you, like you should already know. "You skipped breakfast."
"Stalker," Jeongin mumbles.
"So you do care about me," you goad, looking up at Seungmin as you tear the corner of the wrapper. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."
"Funny," Hyunjin says, already finished with his own meal and sliding the remainder of his food towards Felix. "Maybe his heart is only big enough for one of us."
"I hate all of you," Seungmin corrects, only for his eyes to find yours once more, something knowing sitting far too close to the surface for your comfort. "Do you feel any better?"
There's a part of you that doesn't want to answer; if you do, you risk worrying them even more, and you know that homework has been rough lately, and the last thing you want to do is cause anyone to think about you more often. You don't want to burden anyone like that, even if you know they don't mind. But it's something deep inside of you that hesitates, that refuses to dig in roots and be okay with doing so. It's your parents getting to you, you're sure, unable to forget all the things your mother has said when she thinks you aren't listening. Something like that, that makes all of this so difficult to unravel properly.
"Not really," you admit finally, taking a small bite out of the bar. Even now, your stomach wants to reject the food, churning in discomfort. "I guess I caught a cold, or something. I've been feeling off for a while now."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Felix asks softly, leaning forward on the table. "We could've helped you out with homework."
"She doesn't need help, she needs to see a doctor," Hyunjin says, a journal open in front of him as he doodles another last minute assignment for the craft he's going to school for. For someone who loves art, you've always wondered why he decides to wait to do everything as close to the deadline as possible.
"I made an appointment yesterday," you say, taking another bite. It's about all you can manage, and you leave the bar on the table, curling your hands in your lap. Jeongin notices, and Seungmin does too, which annoys you more than not feeling well does. If they paid attention to you this much, how would you ever be able to hide anything from them?
"Do you want one of us to take you?" Felix offers. "If you don't feel up to driving, that is."
"I'll be fine," you reply, shooting him a soft smile. "Thanks though."
Felix smiles at you in return, before he happens to glance at the time. "Shoot," he mutters, gathering his trash onto his tray and picking up Hyunjin's as well. "We have to go."
Hyunjin stands with a sigh, looking back to you. A few other students are doing the same when you glance behind him. You can't remember exactly, you find after a few more moments of thinking, but you're pretty sure that they both signed up for the same extracurricular for study hall with the bad luck of it being located halfway across campus, which meant they had to leave their allotted lunch period a bit earlier than the rest of the group.
Maybe you did catch the cold of the century, if it was already affecting your memory like this.
"Let me know if you need anything," Hyunjin tells you, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Okay now you guys are worrying too much," you say, rolling your eyes. "I'm fine, seriously, and I even made a doctor appointment so I wouldn't have to hear anything else about it. Do I dote on any of you like this when you catch a cold?"
"Yes," Felix chimes as he grabs Hyunjin by the arm, tugging him away. "Talk to you later, stay safe!"
"So overbearing," you sigh as you turn back to Seungmin and Jeongin, pushing the bar in front of you further way. Maybe if you move it an inch every few minutes, neither will notice that you didn't actually finish it. "I'm fine."
"Finish eating then," Seungmin tosses back, pushing the bar back towards you.
So much for that plan.
"Shut up Seungmin," Jeongin intervenes. "She's not hungry."
"You always defend her," he grouses, shooting the younger a knowing look.
"You're just jealous."
"I'm really not," Seungmin deadpans, and you're afraid that if he rolls his eyes anymore, they'll just get stuck right in the back of his head. You reach over and steal a single fry off Jeongin's plate and pop it in your mouth just to make a point. It would've worked better if it didn't sit in your stomach like a rock in a pond, out of place and abundantly heavy, but there's nothing you can really do about it now.
The three of you fall into a comfortable silence as the other two finish their meals, and you busy yourself by scrolling through your phone. Somehow, you end up on your mother's Facebook page, and you can't help but stare at the most recent post that taunts you; it's a mess of gushing words about how beautiful the Bahamas are this time of year, followed with a picture of her and your father lounging on the beach. Your dad didn't bother to get a new bathing suit. Your mother's almost hilariously sunburnt.
Your thumb hovers over the like button, but you find you can't bring yourself to do it.
It was always so easy for them to run away from their problems, and a luxury for them to even have the ability to do so. You envied it sometimes. You envy it now, stressed about too much and ready to just take off in the nearest direction and not turn back. This...cold, or whatever it was, really wasn't helping either.
The bell chooses then to ring, shattering the constant murmur of the room as other students begin to disperse. Seungmin is among the shuffle, climbing to his feet, pointedly leaving the granola bar behind as he goes. "Thank God," he mutters, sparing another look at Jeongin, a certain gleam in his eye that usually means he's up to no good. "Get me out of here. I'm really not in the mood to play matchmaker."
Jeongin freezes from beside you. You lift your eyes, a question of confusion brimming on the tip of your tongue, but Seungmin is gone before you can say anything at all.
"What was that about?" you ask Jeongin instead, turning in your seat to gauge his reaction. He avoids looking at you for a long moment, fingers drumming on the cusp of the table. His cheeks are dusted pink, and there's a flip in your stomach the longer the silence stretches. Seungmin couldn't mean...
"He's just trying to start stuff," he dismisses, giving you a short smile. It doesn't brighten his face like it usually would, and there's something else off about it, but you can't put your finger on what exactly that could be. "We should get going. I'll walk you."
You hum, but the rush to change the subject doesn't go unnoticed. You can't help but think about it as you walk to class, Jeongin's arm beside your own the entire way as he talks about anything and everything to keep the silence at bay.
A different kind of emotion swirls through you. You're afraid to know what it is as Jeongin carefully hands you the granola bar you thought you had left at the table with a soft smile, fingers brushing against your own.
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@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @rylea08 @jenniferlr @enzos-shit
@sxnset-angel @amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @thatonedemigodfromseoul @briar-rose23
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’
☀︎|tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.
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a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.
“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.
and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.
“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.
sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.
though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.
sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.
were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?
he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.
“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”
sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”
lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.
but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.
sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.
you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.
“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.
you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.
you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.
“where’d you think you’re going?”
sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.
you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.
his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.
he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.
“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.
you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.
even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.
you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.
“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.
you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”
a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.
“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.
you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.
sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.
“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”
it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.
the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.
until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.
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luveline · 2 months
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 
Total quiet. 
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 
“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 
“Where are you?” 
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 
“Where was I?” 
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 
“Still where?” 
“Did you hit your head?” 
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 
“…What?” 
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 
“I annoy people.” 
“You don’t annoy me.” 
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 
“Am I in trouble?” 
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 
“She kind of looked like you.” 
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says. 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 
“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 
“What jokes, babe?” 
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 
“Spencer, you remember everything.” 
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 
You’re happy to. 
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 
“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 
— — 
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 
“So you want three?” 
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 
The avocado is making him feel sick. 
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 
“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.” 
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said. 
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
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adelheidvonschicksal · 4 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚ It's Like That *:・゚✧*:・゚
You decide to accept Itadori's invitation to the movies. It turns out better than expected.
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Pairing: Itadori x GN!Reader
CW: Fluff, SFW, hand holding, potential friends to lovers, it's technically a date 💕
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“Do you guys want to see Human Earthworm 4 with me?”
The three of you minus Itadori, who posed the question, share a lukewarm look. You’re on the edge of the shopping district, trying to decide what to do after your mission, if anything, and that’s the first idea that floats out amongst the group. 
“What’s it about?” Nobara asks.
After Itadori explains the horror romance, there’s even less enthusiasm amongst the group to watch the movie with him. Sensing this, he ups the bargain.
“I’ll pay.”
You wince when you see Fushiguro pull out his phone. “I don’t really have the energy to sit through a movie,” he excuses himself, fingers going a mile a minute to escape the situation of friendship for today. “I’m going home.”
Your broody classmate holds his ringing phone to his ear and briefly glances at Nobara.
“I’m going to hit up the shops," she responds to his silent question.
Megumi leaves the three of you behind in no time flat. Nobara only stays behind long enough to ask if you want to go shopping with her. While you normally love to go with her and are in dire need of new shoes, you notice a lonely sullen shadow building over your slit-cheeked classmate and throw up an apologetic smile to her. 
“I think I’ll go with Itadori-kun today.”
You miss the way his head perks up as you wave her off. Before you have a chance to collect your thoughts, Itadori is already on top of you, his fists drawn in front of him excitedly and chestnut irises filled with happy stars.
“You’re going to love it,” he tells you. It’s cute how he nearly shakes with excitement, you can even hear it growing in his voice and shining in his eyes. “It’s such a good series! I mean, I know it sounded weird, but it’s so much better on screen that— forget any of what I said, you gotta see for yourself!”
He wastes no time taking off in the direction of the theatre, and you jog to keep up with the speed of the Tiger of the West. It isn’t until he notices you lagging behind that he slows up to grab your hand and pull you with him.
“Come on, come on, we don’t want to miss the opening.”
“Is this one of those movies where I need to see the first three to know what’s going on?”
“Well, there’s a few returning characters, like Dr. Richter, but I can fill you in on the important stuff so don’t worry.”
When you get to the theatre, Itadori immediately jumps in the ticket line, huffing in relief when there are still seats available. You begin to pull out your wallet but pause when he hands you a pink paper ticket.
“I told you it’s on me,” he reminds you before going down the line and ordering a large popcorn, two drinks, and beating you to grab a packet of candy that you were staring at for two seconds too long. 
He hands the bag of sweets to the cashier to scan. “And this please,” he asks before handing the candy to you. 
“That’s okay,” you tell him, but he laughs it off.
“It’s fine. That’s your favorite, right?”
You shyly nod and hold onto the envelope of overpriced candy like it’s the most precious thing in the world causing the cashier to smile at you as she finishes preparing your items.
“Aren’t you two the cutest,” she comments. 
You squeak quietly at her comment, crumpling your candy in surprise. It’s not a big deal she mistook you as a couple, it’s not like Itadori was someone you didn’t like after all, and it’s not like there was any need to correct her but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about the situation. 
Curiously, you look at him, waiting for him to make the decision on the matter. Surprisingly, he blurts out a quick and happy, “Thanks!” before moving on to fill his drink.
As you watch him, you fight the urge to ask why he didn’t correct her; and when you notice that he’s way more interested in finding the right theater, you decide he must have said it because it wasn't worth a fuss.
The two of you get seats at the back of the theater, and you shift over people carefully to avoid falling into Itadori’s back as you find your seats. You can finally relax as he sets the bucket of popcorn on the armrest between you.
Soon enough, the movie begins to play.
It starts off like every normal horror movie. A mad scientist, a hapless victim, and an escape followed by a romantic subplot of the human earthworm discovering that the woman he met indeed loves him even if he is a worm. 
That’s about as much as you can keep up with. There are too many easter eggs that keep flying over your head and too many callbacks to the previous movies in the series. Itadori does his best to try to help you whenever you whisper questions at him; but eventually, you’re too distracted by the couple in front of you making out to pay attention to the movie.
It’s so obnoxiously grotesque, their arms wrapping around each other and a soft moan every so often that’s drowned out by the guttural sounds of the earthworm children. You can’t really believe they’d do that in public, and why did they have to be so close to you out of all people?
Itadori looks at you and then finally catches on to what’s making you squirm. When he does, a faint hint of red starts to coat across his nose, and he becomes equally uncomfortable. 
Deciding to make it a little better for the both of you, you nudge him then make a silly disgusted face with your tongue stuck out to mimic a gag. You’re rewarded with a snicker from him and his own silly face in turn, and it makes the awkwardness of it a little easier to take as you try to focus back on the movie.
It’s another half hour in before you wonder exactly how the hell are they still going at it. 
“Society really needs to bring shame back,” you think before a warm breath hits your ear and fans down your jaw. 
You nearly jump before the smooth sounds of Itadori’s voice greet you. 
“So, that guy—” he begins but you’re way too focused on how close he leaned into you this time, how low the timbre of his voice goes to keep from disturbing those around you. It makes your feet curl in your shoes and your breath catch in your chest when his shoulder connects with your arm.
You feel heightened to his presence and the heat of him so close. It wasn’t like this earlier, but your heart is racing and your skin tickles the more he whispers. You think he’s so close that he could almost kiss your earlobe. 
It’s a path that you didn’t know you had in your mind, and it leaves you rattled as the smallest brush of pink hair hits your skin as he straightens back up and reaches for another handful of popcorn. 
Every time he touches your arm after to get your attention or your hand scoops by his in the popcorn bucket, you start to become flustered and jittery like a child after too much sugar. 
It lasts until the movie reaches its apex.
There’s a combined scream that fills the theatre, and you tense at the splatter of blood hitting the camera, leaving the few remains of your popcorn scattered across the floor as you unwittingly knock it over and squeeze Itadori’s hand tight. 
Your fingers slot with his and your fingertips bury against his palm, and it’s the only thing keeping you from bursting into a scream. 
When the lights flash back on, you notice how pink his hand looks under your tense hold and mumble out an apology. 
“Oh, that?” he asks followed by the same charming laugh as always. “It was pretty funny. You should’ve seen your face, like a blowfish,” he comments, teasingly mocking your blow-eyed expression as everyone around you begins to exit. “I never took you for a scaredy-cat.”
“You’re one to talk. You screamed in my ear at least a dozen times,” you remind him as the two of you also make your way towards the exit doors. “Sounded like you were on fire.”
“Don’t say fire in a theatre!” he scolds with a hiss.
“You said it louder.”
“To remind you not to say it!” 
You giggle at how offended he sounds as you break out into the light of the late afternoon. You walk with Itadori back to your pickup spot on the edge of the shopping district. It’s surprisingly quiet especially considering who you’re with, and it makes you worry a bit. 
You thought Itadori would be more excited after watching the film and practically forcing you to run 500m dash to get there, but he’s barely said two words about it since leaving the theatre, briefly mentioning how he’s still glad they used a real costume for the main earthworm instead of CGI.
But since leaving, his mood seems to have dampened. You thought about bringing something up from the movie, but you couldn’t really catch more than a few bloody scenes and a little evil monologuing from Dr. Richter outside the moments when Itadori would have your attention, with his voice in your ear or his hand excitedly clasping around your wrist each time he enthusiastically info-dumped a scene to you.
“Hey, um,” he begins piquing your interest. He seems to lose his nerve when you catch his eye; his gaze flutters to his feet before nervously picking back up to glimpse at your face but only for a few seconds. “Thanks for coming with me.”
You smile. “Don’t mention it. It was…different.” 
“Yeah,” he agrees but he still seems down. 
“Itadori-kun? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah…It’s just…I could tell you didn’t really like the movie. I mean I knew from the start it wasn’t really your thing. You and Nobara usually like to shop together more than watch horror movies. But still—” he breathes in deep, a shy color blossoming across his face. “It’s been a while since it felt like I did something normal, so it was really nice having someone to come with me. I appreciate it.”
There's something about his explanation that makes your heart hurt. He hasn’t been a sorcerer that long yet; and coming from being a normal kid to the world you were born into was probably scarier than you all could understand. 
“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it! I just couldn’t really follow the story between that annoying couple smacking the whole time, and I felt like I barely follow anything at all!” you reason with him, but he still has that kicked puppy look on his face. 
You sigh with soft empathy before offering him a reassuring smile.
“Hey, Itadori-kun, you know I think I’d like to come back and see it again with you. After we watch the first three movies of course."
He gives you a curious look, his eyebrows raised with disbelief. 
“Really?”
You give a cute and short nod. “Mhm! I can’t really give it a fair chance if I haven’t seen the ones leading up to it. Besides, I want to know why Dr. Richter was trying to kidnap the baby H.E.s in the first place? Couldn’t he make more Enhanced H.E.s from the DNA left from the original experiment victim like he did at the beginning of the movie?” 
It’s like you open the skies back over him when your words sink in, and he moves so happily, speaks so fully, and it makes you happy to see him simply be happy. 
“They explain it so good in the third movie,” he says, unable to hold in his excitement. “I know a great site, it has subtitles and everything, and a special director’s cut at the end of the second movie.”
You laugh. “Sounds good!”
“We should pick up some more snacks; the original is actually pretty long,” he warns and starts to lead you towards the convenience store. Your smile only breaks when you feel the tug on your arm and look down to notice his hand still fastened around yours. 
You freeze, feeling your face warm a bit when you realize he’s probably been holding it since before you left the theater. This makes him pause and turn towards you.
Softly, he calls your name and asks if you’re okay, making you drop your head bashfully.
“Oh, it’s nothing really but you’re still holding my hand,” you point out.
Itadori looks down between the two of you and confirms that his fingers are still locked with yours, a comfortable fit.  
“Huh, oh, I guess I am,” he states matter-of-factly before he blushes. “Oh, it’s probably all gross and oily right? Yuck.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s not actually,” you correct, making no move to force him to let go because you honestly don’t want him to stop this good feeling pouring from him into you through the simple act. 
Your soft expression makes his cheeks warm for a different reason this time. 
“Oh, well, w-we should probably hurry,” he stammers out, and your hand tightens around his hand just a little bit more as you agree and find the closest convenience store to prepare for your first movie night. 
*:・゚✧*:・゚
Nobara stops outside the convenience store, hand to the glass as she stalks back and forth, trying to catch glimpses down the aisle. 
She could have sworn she just saw the two of you walk in from the other side of the street, and she was going to come to say hi – partially to ask how the movie went and partially to make Itadori carry her shopping bags if the two of you were done – that was before she noticed how close the two of you looked.
Weirdly close. 
When she finally catches you in the foggy glass, hand in hand, looking at the mini gacha inside the store, she gasps and quickly shuffles her bags around in search of her phone. 
Kugisaki quickly scrolls through her contacts, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for the line to pick up.
“Fushiguro get here quick,” she harshly whispers into the device.
There’s a lazy voice on the other end asking what she wants, and she vaguely explains the situation to be met with resistance.
“Well then have Ijichi drop you off again! What do you mean ‘No’?" she growls. "Shut up and listen to me. They just went into 7/11. Ugh. Fine, fine, I’m sending you some pictures,” she argues. 
Kugisaki quickly starts to snap some pictures through the glass and frantically sends them off before bringing the phone back to her ear.
“That’s what I’m saying so hurry up and get here! Yes, it’s like that!” 
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angelltheninth · 8 months
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Sex to destress with jjk men? You mentioned it a few times and it got my mind running.
Trust me it got my mind running too.
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, hickies, sex to destress, mating press, creampie, getting home for work, post-mission adrenaline, frustration
A/N: They can destress me anytime, any day of the week. Except for Saturday's, I always get the most rest then.
YUUJI
Even when he's fucking to let go of the stressful energy he's stil trying to hold back a little. Yuuji never hurts you, even if you ask him to it would make him feel bad so instead what he likes most is marking you, in every place he can get his lips and cock on. One of the things he likes most is giving you a little hickyes on the thigh and then pulling his cock out abruptly, smearing cum over the marked spot while watching you pussy flutter and then go back in.
SUKUNA
He's not even stressed that many times, he uses it as an excuse to go really, really rough with you. Not that he needs one you're already used to taking one cock and then the second on a regular basis. There's a ferocity to him when he comes back from talking with the Sorcerers though, he's more pissed off that they're lecturing him then stressed, but the two can easily overlap and that's why he loves to know you'll gladly be face down on the bed, ready for him when he gets home.
MEGUMI
Tries to keep it a little bit quiet, he doesn't want his teammates and neighbors to hear how he makes you scream and moan. It's selfish, but he loves to be the only one knowing of the sounds you make, just like only you know of this side of him that pushes your front against the wall and can't wait for clothes to come off in order to sick his cock into you. When you needs to orgasm he tells you to stay quiet, keep that voice of your only for him.
GOJO
Is often in too much of a good mood to be stresses this much, him fucking you in the hallway is quite rare. He's shoving his head against your pussy, lapping at you like a madman, gripping your hips not letting you go anywhere until your juices are all over his face. Not yet, he isn't done, he can't be done until he sees his cum dripping from your pussy like a waterfall. He holds you up, this position letting his cock hit as deep as it can go in you.
NANAMI
Most people wouldn't think it because he's keeping his emotions in check but in reality he's stressed almost every day about something or someone. So almost every day he has to fuck his stress away otherwise he's getting more and more irritated every day and it makes him lose sleep. It's not odd to wake up to him coming home at night and spreading your legs to make room for his cock. He won't be able to calm down until he makes you come.
GETO
He's actually not that stressed often but you can be so that in turn stresses him out. It's pretty much always mutual when you fuck the stress out of each other. The only time when he lets you be on top for the most of the night is when he know he needs his cock bad. He doesn't mind it if his cum gets all over his abs while you're doing it, there's many ways to get cleaned up afterwards.
TOJI
If he's stressed you're not getting off his dick for hours. If you behave like a brat and try to run, shaky as your legs are, he admires that but you won't get away from him. He'll fold you in half over any and every surface in the house and fuck you until you're a puddle on the floor. And if you think he'll stop there you're dead wrong, if your pussy can't take anymore he'll straddle you and fuck your throat instead until you choke on his dick.
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Captain's Wife - John Price & TF141 x Reader
work starting to feel like I do belong in the kitchen 💀so here's some Price domestic stuff to keep me going until Friday so I don't lose my mind.
Content: small drabbles, fluff, domestic!Price, vouyerism, John ''I share my wife'' Price, TF141 x reader.
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I actually think about being Price's housewife quite a lot. Being a cute little thing he has waiting for him back at home, a domestic life for the first time ever, something he never even thought was possible.
He bought big house in the British countryside, just to make sure you're free from all the stress city life brings. Any hobbies you may have he fully supports and funds, giving you extra spending money on the side despite knowing you don't usually spend it, having all your needs and interests taken care of by him.
This man spoils you rotten without you even asking, having savings for years before he even met you and a good salary as a captain in the SAS. Anything you even glance at when you're out with him at the mall? Bought for you with no hesitation at all. Jewelry, clothes, lingerie; you don't lack any of those things when you're with him.
Any affection you miss while he's deployed is given to you once he's back, his fat cock filling you up in different positions, despite how tired he might be, he always has the energy to fuck his darling wife good. He always puts your pleasure first, making you cum with his fingers and tongue before he even thinks about putting his dick inside. His efforts don't come without rewards, of course, and it has become one of his favorite things to see you down on your knees, praising his thick cock and heavy falls, praising him.
Being a Captain comes with sharing many things with his boys- from gear, to his wife. The first time you're introduced to the boys, the thought of straying doesn't even cross your mind, fully loyal to your husband and simply happy to meet the boys he considers his family. It isn't until Price has you sitting on his lap with your legs wide open, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you in front of the younger men that the thought of having someone other than him hits your brain.
John doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on the younger men. Soap shamelessly has his dick out, stroking up and down slowly, basking in on the sight of his captain fingering your soaking cunt. Gaz is more subtle about it, though eventually he can't ignore his boner, pulling out the prettiest dick you've ever seen and stroking it with more enthusiasm than the others, free hand massaging his heavy balls, begging for release.
Ghost is the one who takes the longest to give into it, ignoring his painful boner being strained by his jeans up until John is fucking you. The sight of your attractive body bouncing on his captain's cock is too much for him, legs spreading wider on the couch to adjust his boner until his hand hesitantly starts to rub his length over his clothes, shamelessly thinking it's him the one fucking you.
And that fantasy becomes a reality soon enough, once you're fucked-out and your cunt is ready to take more, nice and wet for the men he trusts the most. He has rules for it, of course. They can't fuck you without a condom, anything you feel uncomfortable with is off limits, and if you show any signs of discomfort, they have to stop. Soap only whined about not being able to fuck you raw, earning him a look that got him to shut up immediately.
Gaz is a gentle lover despite how excited he was, eating your cunt out nice and slow, plump lips latching onto your clit while your hand gently pushes the back of his head closer, a teasing ''patience, love.'' escaping his lips as he lines up the tip of his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing in and giving you time to adjust to his thickness before he's fucking into you slowly, making sure every thrust hits deep inside you. He switches positions a few times, settling in for the one that makes you moan louder, hands holding onto your hips as he fucks into you from behind.
Johnny is more eager, more... youthful, just happy to be able to fuck you. He'd never admit it, but he's had his eye on you ever since he first met you, wishing he was as lucky as his captain. He eats you out for the longest, messily sucking and licking all over your cunt, lips latching onto your clit, tongue swirling over it, your moans encouraging him to go for longer even when his tongue is tired. He's on his knees in front of the bed, one of his hands busy jerking himself off and stopping right when he's about to cum just by tasting you. H's not enthusiastic about putting a condom on, though he quickly forgets about his annoyance once he's balls deep inside you, hands holding onto your waist as he fucks into you, fast and deep.
Ghost is the only one who doesn't eat you out yet, being slightly uncomfortable about the whole thing and about being watched. John knows Ghost ever since he was Simon, so he tells the boys to go clean up while he too leaves the room, making sure to be within earshot in case anything happens, despite knowing he can trust Simon with his life. He makes up for it by fingering your cunt, long digits sinking into it slowly, brown eyes fully focusing on your expression to make sure you're enjoying every second of it. It takes a while before he fucks you, condom rolling down his thick length and making sure you're all nice and wet before hesitantly pushing in, holding you in a nice missionary while he thrusts in and out, his massive body caging you in and making you feel safe. The mask goes up halfway, giving you sloppy, inexperienced kisses as a reward for taking him so well. Simon is a talker when he's close, face seeking shelter into the crook of your neck as he praises you for being so good for him, for taking his cock so well and making him feel good.
Once the boys are gone, Price runs a bath for you, asking you if you enjoyed yourself and if you'd be interested on doing that again in the future. He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, warm hands washing your body with love and care, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms even when you're in the bathtub. He dries your body and puts you to bed after changing the sheets, a look of pure adoration in his eyes.
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augustinewrites · 6 months
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cw: it’s just angst & jjk manga spoilers
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satoru wakes with a start.
his breaths come a little faster than his body can process, his heart is pounding in his chest, and his head feels like someone’s stuck a hot poker in it. 
it takes him what feels like a few minutes to settle down again, clutching the bedsheets in a tightly wound fist. 
once things seemed to have returned to a normal level, he tries to remember what’d startled him. was it a dream? a memory? had he simply jerked himself awake whilst on the precipice of sleep, like you claimed he did—
his mind seems to be clearing up, because his next instinct is to sit up and make sure you’re okay.
you’re fine, sound asleep on your side of the bed. 
satoru relaxes, albeit only slightly. he’s not sure why he’d been struck with such sudden panic. there’s just this…feeling. he might even go as far as to call it an overwhelming sense of dread, if he were dramatic.
there’s something. it’s hiding in the back of his brain, somewhere even his six eyes can’t find or comprehend. 
he leans back against the headboard, reaching up to run his hands through then lightly grip the strands of his hair. outside, the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon, but whatever had startled him had left him wide awake. 
“the kids are gonna be up soon,” you mumble, pulling him out of the mess of his mind. “better sleep while you have time.” 
time. the word flashes like a flint strike in his mind, but the sparks don’t quite catch yet.
so he lays next to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his chest. he feels a bit better, with you in his arms. 
“what’s wrong?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. 
“nothing,” he lies.
you hum, but he knows that you know him too well. you always know when he’s lying. 
you twist in his arms so the two of you are face to face, the tip of your nose brushing his. 
your sleepy gaze finds his, sending him a small smile. “hi.”
he doesn’t reply because he finds he’s too busy memorizing the details or your face; the flecks of colour in your eyes, the slope of your nose. it’s as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.
or maybe the last.
the thought comes out of nowhere and scares him so badly that he tries to pull away.
“hey,” you murmur, cradling his face in your hands. he catches your wrist intending to pull you away, but instead he clings to you like a lifeline. you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “you’re okay.”
he wants to believe you, he really does. but anxiety is beginning to gnaw on the edge of his sanity.
“something’s wrong,” he admits quietly. “i don’t— i don’t know—”
“you worry too much,” you sigh, your thumb smoothing over his cheek. 
“i just want us all to be safe,” he tells you. 
“i know,” you hum again, smiling a little sadly. “i just wish you wouldn’t let it come at your expense.”
there are a lot of things he wants to say in this moment. he wants to ask why you’re worried, because you know he’s the strongest. that he would rip the heavens apart for you. he wants to tell you that he has a plan, and that he knows it’ll work. 
(a plan for what? he thinks briefly. he can’t remember.)
but most of all…he wants to tell you that he loves you and the life you’ve built together. too much to leave it all behind. 
but all that comes out is,
“i’d rather it be me than any of you.” 
“don’t say that,” you frown. “we need you. i need you.”
there’s an awful ache settled deep in his chest, carving into the place where his heart sits.
“well, it’s a good thing i’m not planning to go anywhere anytime soon.” lie. “i love you.”
truth.
he rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers with yours. 
the memories hit him like a gut punch. 
handmade mochi. the flick of a lighter. a beach in okinawa. megumi and tsumiki laughing. you in your wedding dress, telling him you love him. 
a crowded station. the beginning of the end. 
his eyelids are suddenly heavy. there’s not enough time, he panics. that can’t be it—
“i’ll be here when you wake up,” you promise, and even though you sound like you’re a million miles away, he can hear the sadness in your voice. “you can rest now.”
satoru closes his eyes.
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number1jeonginstan · 3 months
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A/N: Based on this ask right here! Please send feedback because I love to hear it! Also, this was such a cute write, but you know I gotta add my own twist (hehehe)
WC: 1.8k (kinda quick)
Pairing: Bf!Chan x Virgin afab!Reader
Wairing: Fluff and Smut! Loss of virginity, the reader is kinda scared of dicks (that's what was asked in the ask!), pet names (baby and sweetheart), unprotected sex (it's me and Chan, come on), cumming inside, f! fingering, idk what else
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“It’s just weird to think about” you sighed, trying to explain your logic behind not wanting to have sex. Scratch that, you want to have sex with Chan, he’s been teasing you for weeks and your fingers haven’t been helping. 
Even at the beginning of your relationship, you explained to Chris that you had never had sex, and he understood, telling you it was perfectly fine, but you didn’t tell him the reason why until a few minutes ago.
“I don’t think it’s that weird, it’s a reproductive organ that all men were born with” he chuckled, watching your face of disgust. 
“Exactly, men were born with. I’m not a man, so I can live my whole life without seeing one” you emphasized as he came closer to you, nibbling on your ear. “You really can live your whole life without me inside of you baby?”
You whimpered at the thought, knowing that the last time you even looked at a cock, you were disgusted and genuinely petrified at the thought of touching it. “Maybe we can try?” you shrugged, looking up at him.
He almost groaned at the sight of your doe eyes pleading at him to give your cunt some sort of stimulation. You finally came clean about the reason you were so scared to have sex with him, even after watching you rub your thighs together in attempts to give yourself even a sliver of stimulation whenever he kissed you, he never wanted to pressure you. 
“Are you sure baby? We will take this nice and slow, we can turn off the lights too, would you like that?” You simply shook your head at that, thankful you had someone who truly cared about you.
He got up from his bed, turning off his lights, and the dimness of his LED lights, the only thing covering his room being a purple hue, allowing you to see the outline of his face. 
“Is that good baby?”
“Yes,” you replied, your voice surrounding him. He slowly shifted you, placing your covered cunt against his thigh, flexing it slightly as he dragged you against it. “Feels good baby?” he asked, kissing your neck as you moaned. 
“Feels so good” you whimpered as you continued to rut against his thigh, feeling yourself getting wetter. “Good girl” he chuckled as he flipped the two of you over, your back hitting the bed underneath you, head hitting the pillows. 
“Chan?” you whispered, confused by what his next step was going to be. “Baby, you don’t think you would be able to take my cock without any prep?” 
He slowly pulled down your sleeping shorts and underwear, basking at the sight of your cunt. 
“What a sweet-looking pussy” he moaned at the outline, the light not being bright enough to make it out fully. 
When you did feel confident in seeing him fuck you, he would ravish your cunt, eating it like his last meal. For now, though, he was going to get you ready for his cock, slowly dragging his fingers against your slit.
“Fuck Channie” you moaned, feeling his cold fingers running against your hot cunt, your mind slowly floating a bit away as you felt him put his first finger into your sopping hole, causing you to moan as your cunt clenched around it.
“Fuck baby, you need to stop clenching around one measly finger. How am I going to get you to take my cock if you can’t even take a finger?” 
“Can take it Channie, please need more” 
“Aww, baby look at you acting like such a good girl for me. If you want another finger, I can add another one just for you. You just gotta relax for me baby, can you do that?” 
You just nodded, trying to release a little bit, allowing him to slowly add another one inside of you. “There we go, look at you being such a good girl” he said, kissing the top of your forehead as he began to slowly scissor the fingers inside of you. 
“Fuck” you moaned at the sensation of his fingers inside of you. He was awe at the sight of you, you were taking his fingers so well, moaning at the feeling of him hitting your g-spot with his fingers. 
He knew you needed another source of stimulation, you needed to cum, and he wanted to make you. He slowly dragged his thumb against your clit, causing you to arch your back slightly, your head still pressed against the pillows. 
“Good girl, there we go” he kissed your lips before slowly pulling his fingers out of you, licking them. You watched in awe as he pulled them out, “taste so sweet for me baby” he groaned at your taste. 
“Now baby, are you sure that you want my cock? I’m fine with us stopping here, but I’m going to need a cold shower”
“I’m sure” you said more affirmatively, “I want you to fuck me” 
He groaned at that, slowly getting off the bed to get a condom. “Stop where are you going?” you asked a bit confused. “I’m just getting a condom baby, calm down” 
“Please don’t” you whined, you wanted to feel him fully your first time, not wanting anything in the way. “Baby, are you sure? I know you are on birth control, but I want to make sure you are comfortable, we can use a condom”
“No Channie, wanna feel you fully, wanna feel all of you” you whined, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to your bed. 
“Fuck” he whisperedd to himself as he pulled his shorts down his legs, throwing them god knows where, the same with his shirt. He couldn’t believe he was going to fuck your pretty little pussy, not to mention raw. 
“Wanna help” you whimpered, supporting yourself on your elbows as you took his cock in your hands, a bit perplexed on how warm it was, but you ran your hand up and down it. You noticed how Chan threw his head back, a moan leaving his lips along with your name. 
“Fuck sweetheart, if you keep going like that, I’m going to cum” 
“What if that’s what I want you to do?” you giggled, watching his pupils dilate under the purple hue. “Baby, you should be glad it’s your first time, or else I would have fucked you for acting like a brat” 
You hummed at his tone as he took his cock back in his hands. “You sure baby?” he asked one more time, waiting for you to say yes. As soon as you did, he ran the tip of his cock along your wet slit, causing the two of you to groan simultaneously. 
“I’m gonna put it in now” 
“Please do Channie” 
He slowly started off with just the tip of his cock inside of you, your walls hugging him in so tight that he slowly began to push more inside of you. 
It didn’t feel uncomfortable, just a bit foreign. You had never had anything as big as Chan inside of you before, so it was a new experience, but something you could see yourself getting used to and loving. 
 Chan could see you in your own head so he slowed down. “Is it too much baby, I can slow down”
“No, please don’t, feels so good” you whimpered as he slowly continued his almost snail like pace, pushing his cock inside of you. Chan knew he was big and didn’t want to hurt you to chase his own high. He wanted to make sure it was perfect for you, even if he had to go at such a slow pace. 
It took a couple minutes for him to fully situate himself into your cunt, the tip so far deep that he could see your face contort in pleasure. 
He let himself stay there, too scared to move, that was until you whined underneath him, begging to feel him move his big cock. “Fuck baby, you don’t know what you do to me” he whined as he slowly took his cock out of you before thrusting it inside of you.
He felt so good inside of you, but you needed more, needed him to go faster.  “Please Chris, need more please go faster” 
How could he disagree when you looked up at him with your watery doe eyes.
He began to thrust into you faster, causing you to whimper, his cock feeling hot inside of you, hitting your cervix with every thrust.  “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, can’t wait to fuck it all the time” 
“Yes Channie, want you to fuck me whenever you want. Feels so good, so fucking good” 
“Yeah baby, you loving my cock inside of you, want me to cum inside too?” 
“Yes please please please” you pleaded, wrapping your legs around his torso, causing him to quicken his pace as he placed one hand over your clit, rubbing it in tandem to his thrusts. 
“Yeah baby, fuck, can feel you clenching around my cock. I know you are close, why don’t you come for me baby, please cum for me” he whined, kissing your neck, leaving marks all over it. He needed to feel you cum on his cock, needed to make you feel good.
“Fuck Channie, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum” your walls clenched around him as a white ring was visible around the base of his cock, causing you to moan at the sight. 
“Fuck gonna cum, are you gonna let me cum in this perfect little cunt of yours?”
“Yes, please cum in me” you whimpered, your entire body feeling overstimulated at his cock continuing to plow inside of you, him chasing his own high. 
With a few more thrusts, he came inside, his head tossed back, allowing you to see his adam’s apple bobbing at the feeling of your cunt sucking in his cum. 
He slowly pulled out, watching his cum and your own mix, slowly falling out of you. 
“Wait here baby, let me clean you up” he quickly pecked your lips before running to the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth, running it down your legs before handing you a glass of water from his side table.
“Let’s go to the bathroom, I already started a bathe for you” he kissed your lips after seeing your tired nod, picking you up bridal style before placing you into his bath tub, him entering right behind you, allowing you to rest your back on his chest. 
“How was it baby?” he asked, kissing your shoulder before hugging you. 
“Amazing Channie” you giggled before slowly closing your eyes, surrounding yourself with him. 
1K notes · View notes
screeching-bunny · 5 months
Note
Need more of our yan slasher,he's so pookie,i wanna bite his cheeks (in a affectionate way) and cuddle with him until the end of times,he's such a cutie 😭💗
Yandere! Slasher Pt.2
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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Pt. 1
After reading the message sent by Yandere! Slasher, everyone subconsciously looked at you. Never in your life did you want to go home more badly than you did right now. Why did you even decide to go to a party in the first place? You don’t even like people in general! You were definitely never going out to socialize with others after this. If only there were more booze around here you really didn’t want to handle this situation semi sober.
You: “... What are you all looking at me for, they gave out a very vague description of someone. This could literally be anyone in this room with similar features to me.”
The next minute the phone screen immediately lights up with a message.
Yandere! Slasher: “I’m talking about you.”
You: “...”
After a few more seconds of silence, you finally managed to suppress the fear and uneasiness in your heart. You took the phone from the person beside you and carefully looked back at the messages that were sent by Yandere! Slasher. Finally looking down at the text box you begin to slowly type a message.
You: “Sorry, I don’t like guys with dark hair.”
Yandere! Slasher: “I can always dye it.”
You: “I don’t like your face.”
Yandere! Slasher: “There’s always plastic surgery”
You: “How do I know that you're rich? What if you’re lying and actually not broke.”
Yandere! Slasher: “I’ll buy you whatever you want right now. I can even send you my credit card information if you decide to be with me.
Damn you were broke but not broke enough to allow yourself to be with some killer. If it weren’t for your morals you would have probably folded by now.
Yandere! Slasher: “Well it’s not like you have a choice anyways. I plan on making you my spouse either way. You can either come with me willingly or I could take you by force…. Well looks like you’re taking too long. I'll decide for you.”
With that text message sent, you immediately began to feel queasy. You were struggling to keep your eyes wide open and your body was beginning to become very sluggish. Slowly but surely your senses were starting to stop and the last thing that you were able to hear were the sound of your peers screaming for help. With one last attempt to get out of your situation, you try to slowly crawl away. Only for your attempts to be interrupted when someone gently picks you up. “You’re not going anywhere cutie.” and with that you were now fully unconscious.
The next morning you woke up with the world’s worst hangover in the world. Never in your life did you feel this fucked up and and groggy all at once. You begin to raise up your body but soon realize that your body was tightly restricted by some rope and you were wrapped in the arms of some guy. The immediate thought in your head was that this was, last night was either the kinkiest night of your life or some random weirdo had ended up kidnapping you. Due to your movements the man next to you begins to wake up and looks over to you with a smile on his face.
“Cutie! I’m so glad you’re awake. We have so many things that we need to discuss right now! I’ve been thinking about the names of our future kids. Do you have any preferences? I don’t really mind what we name them but I want a lot of kids! Wait! I’m being so inconsiderate right now. I never even asked you if you wanted kids. If you don’t like them we can adopt as many pets as we physically can and we–”
As he was rambling it finally hit you. He was the fucking weirdo from the night before. You wanted to fucking die. Never in a million years did you think that you’d have to deal with a serial killer and an extrovert at that. Maybe if you pretended to be deaf he would stop talking to you. You begin to look at him and begin to make gestures with your head and facial expressions to signify that you were deaf. Yandere! Slasher looks at you for a few minutes before laughing.
“Sweetie, that's not going to work. I’ve been stalking you for the last couple of years. I know that you’re not deaf. Besides I’ve looked at your medical, you're perfectly healthy right now. Which reminds me, my precious little darling must be starving right now. It’s my job as your future husband to take care of you. Now wait right here for me.”
With that he leaves you entrapped alone in the room. Although your eyes were still a little blurry you were still able to make out the contents of the room. Scanning the room, your eyes fell upon a glint of metal under a desk —a discarded tool left by neglect or chance. Adrenaline surged as you inched closer, your heart racing in synchrony with your movements. With trembling fingers, you grasped the tool, the cold touch sending a shiver down your spine.
Summoning every ounce of determination, you started sawing at the ropes, each movement a blend of agony and hope. The metallic smell of blood filled your nose as the sharp edges of the tool cut into your skin. With each passing second, the knots loosened, freedom within tantalizing reach. With one last rough movement you were able to be free of your binds. As you made your way towards the window. A creak soon shatters the silence and the door swings open. Revealing your kidnapper's looming silhouette.
“Look at you all covered in blood because I left the room. Did you really think I would leave the room without any monitors watching you? I was hoping that you wouldn't try to escape but I guess I’ll have to be training you from now on cutie. Guess I’ll have to punish you right now. Do me a favor and lay down won’t you?”
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1K notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 8 months
Note
Ok 1 I love your Halloween theme, and 2 can I request a delightfully unhinged threesome between estranged twins, jackson and Dr. Crane 👀
oh my i wonder who could've given you such a ridiculously thirsty idea!!! definitely wasn't me ummm anyways this turned out to be another full length fic, so. yeah.
𝖌𝖊𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖎 | jonathan crane x reader x jackson rippner
length: 3.6k
warnings: NONCON SMUT (dark as fuck, 18+ only, read the warnings), kidnapping, implied stalking, yandere!jonathan, threesome with oral m receiving and breeding kink, housewife kink, slight corruption kink, possibly inexperienced jonathan??
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It was eerie, seeing his twin on the other side of the doorway; it wasn’t quite like looking in a mirror, but it was closer than anything else was.
The differences were obvious, and had only become stronger over time: the hair, the glasses, even the way they dressed. But the biggest difference between the brothers was their smiles… in fact, Jackson was wearing that tilted, toothy grin already. “Well, look at you,” he greeted smugly, “Doctor Crane.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” Jonathan admitted quietly.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever call me again,” Jackson laughed as he stepped inside, despite never actually having been invited in. “Nice place, Doc— guess they pay you pretty good at the looney bin.”
“We, uh, try not to use that term,” Jonathan mumbled as he watched Jackson roam the apartment, getting a little nervous that he might break one of the more expensive decorations or artifacts.
“So, what’s this problem you needed my help with?” Jackson wondered as he spun on his heel to face his brother. “Must be a pretty sticky situation you’ve got yourself in if you have to ring up your big brother.”
“You’re only four—"
“Four minutes older, yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “but somebody had to be first.”
“I need… advice,” Jonathan finally answered, “regarding a sort of… sensitive situation.”
“You can spare the foreplay, Jonny, this isn’t my first time,” Jackson smirked. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Nothing… happened, really,” he sighed, “I just… there’s someone that needs to be… dealt with.”
“If you want a hit, I don’t actually do that,” Jackson explained, “but I can call somebody for you—“
“Not a hit, no,” Jonathan shook his head, “the opposite, really… I need her kept alive.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Oh? A ladyfriend you want protected?”
“Uh, sure,” Jonathan mumbled awkwardly, “but I’ll take care of that. It’s her, um, footprint, if you will. Her old identity, and all that— I need her to disappear, so to speak. W-well, she already disappeared… I just need people to stop looking for her.”
“You know, you’re always full of surprises, Jonny,” Jackson laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you have this woman in your basement.”
“I don’t have a basement,” Jackson replied.
“That’s… not the part I was expecting you to deny…”
Soon enough, Jonathan escorted Jackson to his bedroom, where you were tied to one of the bedposts by your wrists, curled up in a shaking little ball, watching with wide eyes as the two men entered the room. Jackson realized you probably hadn't seen anyone other than Jonathan since getting here-- that, or you were just thinking oh fuck, there's two of them?!
“Why’d you dress her up like that?” Jackson snorted, admiring the vintage-style dress and heels, with a matching set of pearl earrings and necklace. “I didn’t know you were so… traditional.”
Jonathan cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting a bit pink. “Can we just focus on the present issue, please?”
"And what a lovely issue it is," Jackson cooed as he stepped closer to you, admiring you with a tilted head.
You watched him approach with wide eyes, finally speaking in a broken whisper. “Please,” you choked out, “help me— he’s keeping me here, I think he’s gonna kill me—“
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Jackson smiled, “he’s real sweet on you. I’d just be worried about whatever freaky shit he’s into.”
“Well, as you can see, she’s not adjusting very well,” Jonathan sighed. “I thought my drugs would help— and she’s pretty obedient when she’s been given a large dose, so I was sort of right— but I can’t keep her high all day, she’ll build a tolerance. And I know her case is going to get a little too much attention, if there isn’t some kind of closure for the police or the family sometime soon. I mean, a beautiful, promising young medical student? Gone without a trace? It’s cable news catnip.”
“You’re right about that,” Jackson agreed. “There’s a pretty face perfect for the papers.”
As Jackson reached to tilt your chin, petting the line of your jaw, Jonathan slapped his hand away. “Hey, hands to yourself,” Crane warned, “she’s mine.”
“Okay, Mr. Defensive,” Jackson widened his eyes, raising his hands like he was perfectly innocent. “How sloppy were you? Are they gonna find any evidence that brings them here?”
“I don’t think so,” Jonathan sighed, “but you can’t be too sure. Even without evidence, she took one of my classes, so if they get desperate enough they can certainly trace her to me.”
Jackson sighed. “That’s tricky,” he nodded. “And it gives us two options.”
“Which are?”
“The happy ending, and the sad ending,” Jackson explained. “Happy ending: I get one of my little computer nerd friends to fake a plane ticket to somewhere exotic. Send a postcard to a friend. Just like that, she’s absconded from her old life, escaped the pressure of med school, and everyone thinks she’s off somewhere getting her groove back or whatever.”
“And the sad ending?”
“Bloody clothing planted by the woods, with a tip that somebody saw her hiking,” he shrugged. “Big bad wolf got to her. Simple as that. That one’s handy because no one’s gonna expect her to come back… and you can have her all to yourself, forever.”
Jonathan bit his lip, obviously excited by the idea. “I'm guessing that will require taking a sample from her?"
"Not too much," Jackson promised, "you're a doctor, you can do it safely."
"She's scared enough of me as it is," Jonathan sighed. "I thought she would... take to it a little faster."
"What, you thought she would like getting kidnapped?"
"I thought she would appreciate how well I can take care of her," Jonathan clarified.
"Oh, Jonny," Jackson laughed, "you haven't learned a thing about women since the last time I saw you, huh?"
Jonathan didn't even have the heart to deny it.
"When they ask if they look fat in something-- you just say no, don't even look, okay? It's like DARE: Just. Say. No." Jackson informed his brother sternly. "And when they say they're not hungry and don't want anything, just order some fries anyway or she's gonna end up with half your entrée. And most of all-- you can't forget this one-- they really dislike being kidnapped and held in captivity."
Jonathan crossed his arms. "I knew that," he announced defensively.
"Let me ask you this," Jackson began with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you used her yet?"
Jonathan shuddered a little, looking embarrassed as he looked at you and then to the floor. "J-just once..." he admitted. "That was... a lapse in restraint. I had wanted to wait until she was more comfortable, but..."
"But you just couldn't help yourself with a sweet little thing like this in your bed, huh?" Jackson finished. "I get it. And she looks cute when she's scared."
You shuddered under Jackson's hungry stare, and he winked at you. "So, you'll take care of it?" Jonathan reminded him. "Happy ending or sad ending, whatever you think is best."
"Well, I'm always a fan of a happy ending," Jackson smirked. "You know speaking of: I figure I can give you a good deal on this whole thing... you know, since you're family."
"Alright," Jonathan nodded.
“I’ll make sure her case is closed… if you let me take her for a spin.”
It seemed to take Jonathan a moment to realize what that meant, before he laughed incredulously. “No,” he asserted, “absolutely not.”
“Oh, don’t be so insecure,” Jackson pouted, “she’ll still be yours when I’m done with her. You can keep her for the rest of your life— I’m just asking for one night.”
"I can pay you very well for your time, Jackson," Jonathan promised.
"Eh, money's boring," Jackson shrugged.
"If I recall correctly, women tend to bore you pretty easily as well," Jonathan accused with a frown.
"Sheesh, you kidnap one woman and you start getting all judgmental that I haven't settled down," Jackson rolled his eyes. "I don't have a lot of time for anything serious, that's all. In fact, I barely have time for anything these days. That's why I figure I can help you break in Mrs. Crane over there."
"I don't need any help," Jonathan promised.
"Except for the part where, if I don't help you, you're probably gonna get caught with a missing woman tied to your bed," Jackson reminded him.
Jonathan sighed, clearly realizing the choice he had to make.
“C'mon, just a little favor for your favorite twin brother? You can stay and make sure I don’t do anything you wouldn’t… approve of,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “you prude.”
"She's innocent," Jonathan breathed, "that's what I liked about her-- it's why I had to bring her here. You'll... you'll ruin her. I can't let you do that."
“Seems like you don’t really have a choice,” Jackson noticed, lowering his voice and leaning in closer to Jonathan.
There was a pause, and finally Jackson turned to leave the room as he patted Jonathan on the back.
"Get a good lawyer, buddy," he offered as his final piece of advice.
But before he could take another step, Jonathan relented with a sigh: “Make it quick.”
“Hey,” Jackson shrugged with a grin as he shed his jacket and tossed it aside, “no promises.”
He all but leapt onto the bed, crawling up to you as you whined and shrunk away.
“Did y’hear that, babydoll? Jonny said it’s my turn to play with you,” he purred.
As you tried to shrink away, he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down, forcing you onto your back and keeping your tied wrists above your head as the rope when taut.
He growled as he laid on top of you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “I can make it good for you,” he breathed, “if you behave. It’ll be so much better than whatever my idiot baby brother does to you— promise.”
Jackson's hands crawled up your skirt, and he bit his lip as you kicked your legs in protest.
"Be good, baby," he warned you sharply. "Good girls get a treat... you know what bad girls get?"
You didn't seem that invested in an answer, but he continued anyways as he lowered his voice and spoke by your ear.
"Bad girls get fucked up the ass," he whispered, giving a quick little kiss to the side of your face; suddenly, you relaxed a bit under him and stopped resisting so much. "That's a good girl," he praised, spreading your legs a bit and petting them until he reached higher and found you totally bare under the dress. "Oh my, Jonny didn't even give you panties to wear? Poor baby..."
Jonathan shuddered and crossed his arms, looking away with his head and yet unable to actually look anywhere else but the bed. He was trying to figure out how his brother had gotten you to behave so quickly... when Jonathan had given in to temptation and forced himself on you, it was a constant battle to keep you down as you kicked and screamed and begged him to stop. Whether it was the sight before him now, or the memory of that night, Jonathan felt his cock twitch in his trousers.
Jackson sat up a bit, opening his own pants and sighing as he wrapped his hand around himself. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he purred as he held your legs open wide with his other hand. "Oh, we're gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart."
He spit straight down onto you, smearing it around your opening with his tip, before pressing right up to your hole. He groaned loudly as he slid inside-- one long, slow stroke as he filled you. You whined and shut your eyes tight, but otherwise resisted the urge to struggle.
"Fuuuuck," Jackson purred, holding on tight to your hips as he simply buried himself inside you for a moment. "So tight, honey, Jesus."
Beginning to move, he laid himself down over you and kissed your neck again, moaning against your skin. You whimpered, back arching slightly under him, and he smiled when he felt you tense up as he thrusted into you just a little harder.
"Oh, baby, feel how deep I am?" he grunted. "Feel how good I'm stretching out that little hole? Fuck, keep squeezin' me like that and maybe I will make this quick..."
He grabbed your hips and yanked them up a bit, holding you right where he wanted you-- and sitting up again, so he could get just the perfect angle as he started fucking into you again. Normally he would build up a little more naturally before being so rough but, well, you weren't going anywhere... he could just use you and chase his own pleasure. That said, he still grinned proudly when you moaned suddenly, your head falling back and your back arching. That was when he decided that, even though he had no real obligation to make you come, he was going to anyways-- if for no other reason than to know that he could take total control of your body, and force you to an orgasm even unwillingly.
"Right there?" he taunted as you whined, giving you fast and hard thrusts right into the place that made you bite down on your lip. "Yeah, that's it-- you're getting so wet, honey, you feel that? Gonna soak my fucking cock, aren't you?"
He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, letting himself bask in the feeling for a moment. You made little sounds, obviously trying to hold yourself back, but the longer it went on the less you were able to fight it-- soon you were properly moaning, arching your back deeper, your walls clenching on him rhythmically as you came.
"Fuck, just like that," Jackson praised as he watched you give into it. "Just like that, baby, fucking cream all over me-- good girl."
Jonathan watched in astonishment as you quivered all over, nervously clearing his throat as he tried to conceal the throbbing erection in his pants-- and it seemed to remind Jackson that his brother was still standing nearby.
"What was that about your girl being innocent, Crane?" Jackson laughed. "'Cause she seems like a desperate fucking whore to me."
“H-how’d you make her do that?” Jonathan asked with a shaky whisper, licking his lips a bit as he watched you writhe against the mattress.
“Nothing to it, really,” Jackson smiled, “just gotta find that spot and beat the hell out of it. Here, I’ll show you.”
You whimpered as Jackson pulled out and slid his fingers inside you, curling them against the place that had become more sensitive than ever.
“Right here,” he explained, “you try it.”
He took his fingers out as Jonathan approached the bed— and you felt Jonathan’s fingers slide in a second later, a bit more hesitance to his movements. He let out a wavering sigh, and Jackson smiled.
“Feel the swollen part? Rub her there— hard.”
He curled his fingers slightly and you bit your lip.
“Harder,” Jackson instructed.
“I-I don’t want to hurt her…”
“Well, she needs it rough,” Jackson laughed, “so man up and make her come!”
You yelped when Jonathan harshly pressed into the spot, making your whole body shake as he started to thrust the digits in and out of you. “Wow,” Jonathan breathed as he watched you, his brother smiling proudly next to him.
"She can probably come again pretty fast," Jackson assumed, "you should try. See how fast you can make her scream again."
Jackson, meanwhile, moved to kneel by your head, slapping your face a little to cue you to open your mouth. He groaned as he rubbed his tip over your tongue, forcing you to taste yourself alongside his salty precum.
You unintentionally clench on Jonathan's fingers, and he smiled wide. "Like that?" he asked eagerly. "Are you gonna come again?"
"Just keep doing it," Jackson urged his brother before speaking to you again. "C'mon baby, you can take a little more."
Holding your hair, Jackson started to fuck your mouth a bit more earnestly, making Jonathan frown at him after you gagged a few times. "Be careful," he warned him, "don't hurt her."
"I know, I know," Jackson rolled his eyes. "But look at that mouth, Crane, don't you think it's just made to take cock?"
Jonathan couldn't exactly disagree, he'd fantasized about your mouth plenty of times. But now, he was much more focused on your pussy-- he was watching it closely, enraptured by the way his fingers moved in and out of it... and the way it responded, gripping him tighter and tighter.
"Go on, suck it," Jackson ordered you impatiently, smacking you on the cheek again to try to encourage you. You whimpered and hollowed your cheeks, blinking up at him as he grinned down at you. "Oh, pretty eyes-- I can tell why Jonny couldn't resist you..."
You moaned again, and Jackson raised an eyebrow as he looked down for a moment at what Jonathan was doing-- which was moving his fingers faster inside you, watching you whimper and writhe as you reached the edge again.
"Show me," Jonathan begged, "come for me-- come on my fingers."
It happened pretty quickly, and Jackson let you take a break from sucking him for a second so they could both enjoy your pretty moans as you creamed around Jonathan's fingers.
"O-oh, fuck," Jonathan gasped, "I can feel her... pulsing."
"Yeah," Jackson grinned, "really something, isn't it?"
"Fuck," Jonathan said again, taking his fingers out and suddenly climbing onto the bed. "Need to feel that on my cock."
"Atta boy," Jackson praised with a laugh.
Jonathan moaned loudly as he pushed inside you, your own reaction a muffled groan around Jackson's cock which he shoved between your lips again. "Oh, god," Jonathan whined, "you feel even better than I remember, angel-- fuck, I missed you so much."
He was even more desperate and impatient than before, fucking you quickly and eagerly even though you were far too sensitive for it after coming twice in a row.
Jackson pulled back out of your mouth, but held your head steady as he stroked himself rapidly. “Gonna coat that pretty face,” he growled, “keep your mouth open, baby, I’m close…”
You whimpered and tried to keep your throat shut, afraid to choke on his come while laying back like this, and after a few more moments he groaned loudly as ropes of come fell over your face and onto your waiting tongue. You grunted a little in surprise but just tried to squint your eyes in case some got too close, but the vast majority went into your mouth or over your cheek.
"Fuck," Jackson purred, milking his cock for every drop before finally taking his hand away and sinking back, looking down at you with a new redness and sheen of sweat to his face. "Good girl. You can swallow now baby-- oh, wait, let's make sure you get it all first."
He swiped up the come on your cheek with his thumb, feeding it to you as you closed your lips and swallowed his salty spend.
"I told you good girls get a treat," he grinned.
Jonathan, meanwhile, was panting and whimpering and clearly trying to hold himself back-- but the way he held you tight enough to bruise gave away how close to the edge he really was. "I can't wait," he finally admitted with a groan. "I need to come, angel-- I need to come inside, get you pregnant. Then we can be happy together."
Suddenly, he started to rub your sore clit with his thumb; and you jolted again, pulsing around him as he sighed and dropped his head onto your shoulder.
"Fuck, beautiful-- just like that, let me feel you come again, please. Then I can fill you so deep..."
"You can make her come one more time," Jackson assured, "she's so sensitive-- go on and come for him, baby, let him feel how hard you come..."
Though Jonathan was a little irritated by the way Jackson made it seem like a favor you were doing on his behalf, he couldn't complain when he felt you coming around him, slick walls pulsing so perfectly around him that he had to come with a loud, broken moan. He kept moving until he was sure he'd given you everything, heart racing as he imagined and hoped that he'd properly bred you this time.
Then, there was a silence. Not very long, but plenty nervous as the three of you caught your breath.
"Well... mazel tov," Jackson offered with an awkward laugh, getting up off the bed and getting himself back in order. "I'll call you when it's all taken care of, Jonny. You, uh... you have fun with her, alright? Call if you need anything or, you know... feel like sharing again..."
"I wouldn't hold my breath for that, Jackson," Jonathan sighed.
"Don't miss me too much, honey," Jackson winked at you as he slipped his jacket back on. "But feel free to think about me so you can get off while this guy's fucking you," he joked, motioning to his brother with a tilt of his head.
"Don't listen to him, angel," Jonathan cooed at you as Jackson finally left the room. You shivered a little as he trailed kisses all over your face and neck, holding you a little tighter. "You're all mine-- you finally know that now, don't you?
2K notes · View notes
saerins · 5 months
Text
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°୨୧ NO CONTEST
+ kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, slight hints of jealousy, mentions of alcohol, they go clubbing
notes: help me i think i made myself fall for this guy even more after writing this shit for him > ⤙ <
summary: being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?
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SPOTTED: KAISER-KAIA DUO HIT THE STREETS, NEW BUDDING ROMANCE?
“i like you though, y/n.”
it’s spring and the weather outside is the nicest it’s ever been in a while and you have every chance to enjoy it except for the fact that dear michael kaiser is lounging on your couch, rifling through the magazine he got in the mail.
“right, haha, very funny,” you mumble sarcastically, slumping down onto the other couch where kaiser isn’t sprawled all over.
sometimes, you think it’s funny how he’s portrayed as this hot, sexy, confident soccer player who can do no wrong when it comes to matters with his looks, but then in private he’s like… well, this. his bed head’s a mess, his room slippers are the fluffy-fuzzy kind, and much less high maintenance than everyone makes him out to be. (but you have to stop yourself from staring because kaiser doesn’t sleep in anything but his sweatpants during this season and well, where his abs are concerned, he’s definitely got no problems there.)
kaiser sighs in the overdramatic fashion that’s probably his trademark right about now. “y/n, y/n, what do i have to do to make you believe me?” he turns around, smirking at you as he raises a brow. maybe it’ll work on his countless fangirls, but after being friends with him for over six years, you’re probably immune to it.
“maybe you can just shut up and get ready for your event later.” you roll your eyes, sauntering to the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast, automatically making two of everything because kaiser loves to crash your apartment in the morning. (he really does need to learn about personal space.)
breakfast preparations go quietly. kaiser listens to you—he shuts up and starts getting ready for his event before coming back into your apartment, all fresh and ready to shamelessly eat the breakfast you made, staring at you from across the table whenever you’re not looking like he always does.
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“kaiser-kaia duo hit the streets, new budding romance?”
“miko, don’t tell me you’re reading that gossip rag too,” you whine, looking for any excuse not to dive into your pile of work for the day.
your colleague swivels her chair over to your cubicle, looking around to make sure your bosses aren’t around to witness the both of you slacking off. “hey, isn’t he your friend? give me the tea! are they really dating?”
leave it to miko to get all excited about dating rumours. you really don’t know what’s so special about them—kaiser’s gotten so many of them ever since, well, forever. even before he became a soccer superstar.
you remember what kaiser said in the morning. “i like you though, y/n.” always ready with that smooth tongue of his. that aside, if he really was dating someone, you bet that they’d be staying over with him more often than not, and there’s really no harm in rejecting a rumor as opposed to confirming one.
“nope, they just happened to be waiting for a cab at the same spot.” and paparazzis love to snap a shot from misleading angles. now that you’re really looking at the article, they managed to make it look like kaiser’s kissing her cheek. you find yourself rolling your eyes at it and looking away.
miko sighs, leaning back against her chair. “man, that sucks, they look cute,” she comments, scrolling away from the online article before she gives you a suspicious side eye. “hey, you sure you’re not dating him?”
you still a little at the sudden line of questioning before turning your attention back to your laptop equally quickly. “if i was, i wouldn’t be so free all the time now, would i?” a response to which miko shrugs off and decides to let go of as she retreats back to her desk.
as much as you love miko as your colleague, you haven’t been as honest with her as you could. she knows you’re friends with kaiser, yeah, but she doesn’t know he’s basically your neighbour. she doesn’t know that he comes over all the time whenever it’s off season. she doesn’t know that the both of you have fallen asleep next to each other on the couch.
she doesn’t know a lot of things—like how your heart’s beating erratically now at the notion of being someone special to kaiser. it’s always been sweet nothings that you thought would stay that way, and you’ve always been short at realising your own feelings, so much so you were, once upon a time, positive you had zero romantic feelings for your friend.
now? you’re not so sure anymore.
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seven days pass and kaiser’s been pestering you every single moment you’re free—like he always does—but today’s kind of a special day because it’s your birthday and it’s an hour away from your dinner party yet you’re not even close to ready.
your hair’s wet, you’re still in your loungewear, you have no idea what to wear and kaiser’s just flipping through the channels, half bored to death. for his part, at least, he’s already ready.
it’s not even fair how he takes just half an hour to get ready and yet he looks like he does. hair perfectly soft, and he’s wearing a nice black suit with a wine red dress shirt underneath, his tattoos peeking out here and there. if he wasn’t a soccer player, he’d definitely either be a model or a very charming businessman.
“too handsome for you?” kaiser smirks as he catches you looking, and you have to spin on your heels to avoid getting flustered (to his face).
“shut up, kaiser, i haven’t found anything to wear,” you groan, making a beeline for your bedroom. you really wished your friends hadn’t booked a high-end restaurant for little old you—then you could literally just throw on anything and be done with it.
kaiser, completely comfortable in your apartment, strolls into your bedroom with you and starts browsing through your closet, ignoring your protests. within seconds, he finds a dress and holds it out, a lopsided smile filling his face. “how about this?”
the wine red satin dress hovers in front of you, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you speak, feeling the line getting blurry. “trying to get me to coordinate outfits with you or something?”
you’re trying your best but your voice quivers just a little bit, and you bet that smug smile on his face that he can hear it. “why not? we look good together,” he shrugs, as though it’s no big deal but it’s hard to stop yourself from overthinking when lately the two of you have been flirting more often and serious than usual.
rolling your eyes and trying not to be too late, you grab the dress from him and change into it, spending some time to yourself to recollect, internally cursing him for being able to make you this flustered over nothing at all.
by the time you come back out into the living room, hair all done and accessories settled, this time, kaiser’s the one who’s caught staring, shameless in the way his eyes drag over you from head to toe. you’d tease him for it, but you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for his comeback so you refrain.
as you grab your go-to black heels and sit down to strap them on properly, kaiser’s quick to offer a hand, his lithe fingers taking your heel from you, slowly inserting your feet, his eyes lingering on your face and his thumb rubbing circles around your ankle. your eyes are glued to his own, and somehow it makes you even more nervous when he’s not joking around. when he looks at you like this—serious, like he’s trying to tell you something without saying anything at all.
the way he ties the straps are gentle and precise, tight but not too tight that it’ll hurt you. you’ve jokingly told him to help you tie your shoelaces before but he’s always refused. yet now he’s helping you put on your heels on both feet without saying a word and the way his hand lingers on your calf when he’s done is enough to make you melt.
on some other day, you’d joke with him and get him to let go. today, you’re silent.
kaiser chuckles, though, his hand casually brushing up your calf slightly before he pulls away, gently patting your head as he gets up.
“let’s go.”
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dinner is agonising, enjoyable, agonising.
it’s nice; being seated around a table, enjoying small talk and nonsense with the same group of friends, catching up with people like kaiser and ness who’s been away a lot because of their profession.
yeah, that part’s nice. what’s agonising about it all is how close kaiser is to you, how his right hand casually drapes around your shoulder from time to time, shifting down to your thigh sometimes, making you go crazy.
it’s not like the both of you haven’t been close before, but you feel like maybe this time, it’s different. it’s not just the close proximity, it’s the intimacy of it all that has you inwardly keeling over. what’s worse is that you think you want it, him. in a way you didn’t think to think of before.
“you sure you’re not dating him?”
miko’s words ring repeatedly in your head. somehow, your answer’s changed from nope to you sort of wish you did. you bite your lower lip, absentmindedly laughing along even if you didn’t hear the joke at all.
“you okay?” the voice in your ear nearly makes you jump up from your seat.
on your right, ness is grinning as he looks at you, like he knows something’s going on in that little head of yours. you shake your head anyway, but ness shoots you a knowing smile as his eyes briefly shift to kaiser’s arm around you before winking at you.
fuck, is that really enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks?
“y/n?” one of your other friends calls out, snapping you back to the foreground.
“what?”
“next stop: new club downtown! orange, or grape, or whatever the fuck name it is,” he drawls, excited, “you up for it?”
before you even get the chance to agree, one of the other guys speaks up. “hey kaiser, speaking of clubs, didn’t that dating rumour come up recently? the one with, uh, kaia?”
readjusting himself, kaiser pulls away from you, taking a swig of his beer. “don’t remind me,” he groans, sighing.
“why not? she’s hot!”
there’s a knot in your stomach that you can’t explain.
beside you, ness snickers. “tell ‘em what really happened, stupid.”
that manages to pique your interest.
kaiser sighs, resigning because he knows they’ll just keep hounding him if he refuses. “she tried her luck, that’s all,” he settles for something vague, trying to escape.
ness, however, ever the kind soul, expands on his words, making sure you hear every single bit—you’re not sure if he’s trying to egg you on or just see your reaction.
“please, she was trying to get you to send her home, no?” ness’ explanation gets a reaction out of the group, and you’re glad you all have a private room here so no one outside can hear you, servers included.
“shut up.”
“kaia and kaiser—has a nice ring to it.”
and even though kaiser doesn’t entertain that, you feel a little envy brewing inside you—one that you fail to drown out.
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orange is filled with people; combining the fact that it’s holiday season and it’s the club’s launch night, it’s safe to say that there’s barely any room to breathe. still, your friends are all drunk on the alcohol, pulling one another to the dance floor, leaving you and kaiser at the table.
he’s still close as ever, his bare hands brushing yours, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you close.
“dance with me,” he raises his voice over the music. the way he smiles so genuinely now managing to make your heart skip a beat.
suppressing your grin, you wordlessly agree, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. he meanders the crowd skilfully, as expected considering he and ness are frequent clubbers. it’s only now that you realise you’d never gone to such a place with him, which is surprising considering your many years of friendship.
as you join your friends on the floor, you can’t help but notice how kaiser sticks to you and you alone, his hands on your waist, trickling up and down your arm, dancing along behind you. even surrounded by people, he commands your attention alone.
unfair.
but to kaiser, it’s unfair too. it’s not fair how you’re so pretty, it’s not fair how you’ve always been. it’s not fair that he’d fallen slowly for you, and now so so deep. how is it fair that even when he tries to forget you, when he tries not to mess with the friendship, that he ends up falling even more?
his eyes stay glued on you, shamelessly making sure no other man gets their hands on you—it’s fucking insulting how they try to get you to dance with them even when he’s right there. lucky for him, you’re not budging. you’re there. with him. only him. even if your other friends are here.
it’s just him and you and he wonders what you’re thinking. are you as flustered as he is right now? kaiser hasn’t even let himself drink more than one mug of beer, all because he knows this is a night he’d rather remember than risk forgetting.
“hey, isn’t that kaia?” one of your friends excitedly points out and kaiser follows his line of sight.
it is her, and she’s heading this way—but that’s not really important because what’s important is how kaiser noticed you’ve stopped dancing, awkwardly trying to shuffle away. it’s kind of funny, he swears he can tell that you might feel the same way about him. maybe you’re just more stubborn than he is.
so he keeps his arms around you, pulling you close.
“stay with me,” he whispers into your ear, and he suppressed a grin from the goosebumps searing across your neck. he guesses it’s a good sign you’re listening to him.
“kaiser, what’s up?” kaia greets, evidently trying to move for a hug but kaiser’s not budging, squeezing you closer instead.
he nods at her in acknowledgement before letting the rest of his friends throng around her for a photo.
once she’s sufficiently busy, he hears you speak up. “were you dancing with her that time too?”
kaiser manages not to snicker at your obviously jealous tone, “yeah, we went with a few other people after our shoot was wrapped up.”
you nod, and all kaiser can think of somehow is that your shampoo smells so nice. “oh, sure you don’t wanna dance with her again tonight then?”
are you testing him? it’s cute.
he shakes his head. “nah, i danced with her a lot that time already,” he teases, though he’s not too sure whether you’d take it like a joke like it was meant to. when you don’t respond, he chuckles, gently turning you to face him. “there’s one thing i didn’t do with her though.”
kaiser’s face is just inches away from yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek and he’s aware that everyone in the close vicinity is looking at the two of you but he doesn’t care.
honestly, he has to admit, he’s dreamed of doing this a thousand times over, always hovering between the decision to ruin this friendship or not. the thoughts were there whenever he’d wake up next to you on the couch. or whenever all of you met up and one of the other guys would throw their arms around you. or in the mornings when you made breakfast. there’s not a time he’s been sure whether this is what you wanted too.
hell, he’s not even sure now. but fuck, if he wastes another minute not trying he thinks he’ll kill himself for it. and he’s hoping to god this isn’t a dream because you’re not pulling away and you’re not treating this like a joke and it can only be because you want this too.
without another thought, his lips press against yours and it’s like the loud music drowns out into the background, getting lost and fading away. suddenly it’s like you’re the only thing in front of him and fuck, you taste even better than he can ever imagine.
“fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pressed against yours. “be mine?”
still breathless from that kiss, you chuckle weakly and nod, both of you earning whoos all around the room. (you make a mental reminder to tell miko before she winds up seeing this online before you get a chance to explain.)
and just like that, kaiser’s finally gotten the girl of his dreams.
“want you, baby, just you.”
the next morning, the two of you make the headlines.
LIPS LOCKED: KAISER & RUMORED GIRLFRIEND SHOW OFF THEIR LOVE
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2K notes · View notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.
maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out
ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty 
cw criminal minds typical gun violence
Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning. 
The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly. 
In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt. 
You'd like to keep it that way. 
It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour. 
Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again. 
It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return. 
You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage. 
It's deep but small. A nick. 
The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means… 
You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid. 
He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor. 
"You were sleeping? I'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream." 
He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?" 
"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?" 
"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence." 
"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay." 
You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?" 
"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?" 
"You want to tell me, right?" 
"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope." 
"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again. 
"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."
Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?" 
"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside." 
"What were you doing up?" 
"That's my business," Morgan says. 
Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers. 
Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops. 
Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby. 
"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?" 
"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?" 
Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading. 
"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night." 
She gawps. 
Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never…  and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–" 
You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?" 
"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down." 
"Yes sir." 
Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly. 
Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…" 
"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh. 
"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me." 
"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now." 
Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away. 
"I don't deserve him," you say softly. 
Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something. 
2K notes · View notes
afriendlyblackhottie · 6 months
Text
In Between
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Description: of course you’d come to them if your boyfriend wasn’t treating you right. They were your best friends after all. You weren’t expecting them to take advantage of the situation though.
Tags: minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), edging, dubcon (better safe than sorry), if I missed any please let me know 😭
(A/N: Omg I’m finally just gonna put it out I’ve been writing this on and off for so long lmao still not edited though cuz fuck the grammar police hahaha I hope you all like it. Please like, follow, and reblog with a comment 💜✌🏾)
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“He wouldn’t what?” Bucky asked with a look of bewilderment on his face about what you had just told him.
Maybe you were doing the most by spilling things, but what can you say, you were upset. Had just walked in on your boyfriend with someone else after he’d told you over and over again that nothing had been going on. To say you were in your feelings was an understatement.
It wasn’t like things hadn’t been on and off for a long time anyway but this was the final straw. You were so sick of him doing this to you. Of him lying to your face.
Telling you that you’re the only one and that he was serious about you. Honestly you really should have known be would have turned out to be a player. The worst part was that it seemed like you were never the one to get off. Felt like you’d wasted your time. Probably why you were spilling everything to The Winter Solider.
It was almost like things were coming out as word vomit. Secrets spilling from your mouth that you hadn’t even told Natasha as they were too embarrassing.
Except he was sitting there acting like he really cared and clearly you needed that. Even more so when you started to say way too much.
“I know, right!” You scoffed. Thinking about the way he’d treated getting you off like some kind of chore.
Honestly you should have dumped him after the first time he said to you, ‘I don’t eat pussy.’
“So he never?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.
You shook your head, sniffling. He looked so taken aback.
“That’s bullshit,” Bucky said once again with a scoff. Eyes trailing all over your body. Thinking to himself what an idiot your ex was for not appreciating what he had. “Aw, Honey,” he cooed, grabbing your hand when he noticed you tearing up.
As if you should be wasting tears on that asshole.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled some more. “I don’t even know why I’m upset right now. He’s not even worth it.”
Well, he was happy that you knew that.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “You know I’m right here.”
You nodded as he leaned forward to pull you into a hug. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Needing to melt into him as the vulnerability hit you like a freight train.
“Thanks, Bucky,” you managed to say, pulling away so you could look at him. “Steve’s so lucky to have someone like you.”
Bucky glanced down at your lips. Wondering what Steve would say if he even saw the two of you in this position. You needing a shoulder to cry on as he wished he could comfort you in the way he wanted to.
Not like Steve wouldn’t understand. He saw the way his boyfriend looked at you.
“Yeah well, Steve’s stuck with me so…”
You chuckled stopping to wipe your eyes. Bucky gently placed a hand on your cheek so he could do the same. Thumbing away the droplets.
“Wish I could find a great guy like you. Hell like either of you. Seems like I’m only ever getting into relationships with assholes.”
That kind of sparked something in his chest. Hearing you say that. Sitting here spilling his heart out to him.
“Oh yeah?” He asked. “Well you know I think you deserve better.”
You smiled and wiped your eye. “Thanks, James.”
“It’s okay,” he said, finally reaching out to give you a hug. Seeing that you clearly needed it. “You know I’m always here for you.”
“I know,” you whimpered. Honestly you didn’t even know who else to come to besides him and Steve. They’d really done so much for you after they’d moved in. Sure you kind of had to get used to living next door to the superhero couple, but so far they’d kept you pretty safe.
It was super convent. Hadn’t had to walk any groceries up to your place in months either. Seemed like the two of them were always there to take care of whatever you needed. Took such good care of you. Always.
So how did you think Bucky was going to feel when he heard that your ex hadn’t been. As if any man wouldn’t be happy to have a face full of pussy. Especially yours. Honestly what a fucking idiot. Even the idea of getting a taste was making him feel things he normally didn’t.
“I can’t believe he wouldn’t eat you out, though,” he laughed. “What a- why didn’t you say anything.”
“I don’t know!” You laughed too, pulling away. “I just… I don’t know…”
“It’s okay. We’ll just find you someone that’s going to take care of you right.”
Once again you laughed and honestly he was just happy to see it. Hated having to see you cry. Especially over some bullshit like a man that couldn’t even pleasure you properly. Why cry over him when Bucky could be making you smile.
“You’ve got such a cute little laugh,” he complimented. Not like it wasn’t something he did a lot.
Him and Steve both did. Always wanting to let you know how beautiful they thought you were. Thought they’d just been doing it as your friends, but Bucky just couldn’t deny his attraction forever. Look at you.
Even crying you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. Had gotten all dolled up for an asshole that didn’t deserve it. Makeup creeping down your face. Fuck. You shouldn’t have to waste such a look.
You let another one of those giggles, looking down and using your shoulder to rub away a tear. Bucky leaned forward so he could place his hand underneath your chin. Lifting your head up. “Honestly, Doll,” he started, “you might be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“You’re just saying that,” you sniffled.
“No, I mean it. You know I do.“
“Bullshit,” you replied.
“I really do,” he said. “Why do you think Steve and I have to take care of you so much. Pretty thing like you shouldn’t have shit to worry about.”
Inside your heart felt like it could stop. He just looked so handsome as he spoke. Had recently gotten a haircut so he looked even better. Fresh faced. Even in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt he looked hot.
Not like you hadn’t thought about him or Steve before. Knew they were both bisexual so it wasn’t like they wouldn’t ever be interested in you but still it always felt like such a long shot. They were your best friends. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about them at night when you touched yourself. Especially when you had a boyfriend.
And they were from a different time. Actual gentleman back in the day from what you gathered. Wanted their women in the home and spoiled.
Sometimes the idea of it sounded kind of nice. Having a man dote on you. Then you had two of them really, really interested in your well being. Of course you were going to crush a little but you didn’t want to cross any lines.
“I don’t even know what I’d do without you both,” you said.
“Hey, that’s how we feel about you. Who else is going to cook for us and make sure our place is tidy when we’re gone.”
You chuckled. “You make me sound like a housewife.”
Bucky shrugged. “I mean… it’s a good look on you. Could see that.”
“Well, I mean, I’d have to find a guy first.”
“I mean… maybe you already have,” he said.
“What?” You asked with a chuckle. “Bucky, I-,”
“I know,” he cut you off. “But, can I be honest?”
“Okay…”
“You know how much I love having you around and I-,”
“What about Steve?” You asked him. “I can’t just… I can’t just do that to him.”
“We’ll worry about him later,” he replied, stroking your cheek, making you look at him. Finally placing a kiss on your lips.
You quickly pulled away with a gasp. “Bucky, we can’t… he’s my…”
“Shhh, don’t worry about, Steve, Baby,” he tried to assure you, your eyes hitting his. Something about his gaze making you feel warm on the inside.
“I- no we can’t just…”
“Yes we can,” Bucky said. “It’s okay.”
And as bad as you wanted to keep fighting him. For some reason you just couldn’t. As Bucky pulled you close so that he could go back to kissing you.
Fuck his lips did feel good. And everything with your now ex. You were vulnerable. You wanted to feel wanted.
But, Steve…
“Don’t worry about Steve, Baby,” Bucky whispered in your ear again. “Focus on me.”
Bucky’s fingers went under your dress. Gripping your thighs. A curl in his lip. Fuck he was so pretty.
He slowly pushed you down. Climbing on top of you so he could really take control. Pushing your legs up so that he could get in between them. Kissing you more before you could protest.
Bucky was getting his fucking taste. Just because your stupid little boyfriend didn’t want to taste it, didn’t mean he didn’t want to. He was getting it.
“Fuck!” You gasped as he started kissing your collarbone. No longer thinking about your ex or his boyfriend.
Felt good to have you right where he wanted you. Finally. It had taken him this goddamn long.
You laid back as Bucky got on his knees. Placing a kiss on one of your knees first before going up towards your thigh. A breath hitched in your throat. If you were feeling hesitant, he could change your mind.
“Bucky,” you whimpered as he spread your legs, to get a good look at your panty covered pussy.
“So fucking pretty,” he groaned as he looked up at you. His poor girl still obviously shy. That’s okay he’d take care of you. Just needed to-
“Fuck!” You cried as he kissed you through your panties. “We shouldn’t-,” you tried to keep it going.
Not like he cared as he pushed your underwear to the side so he could lick a strip from the bottom up to your clit. Making your words get caught in your throat as you laid back with a moan. Yeah that’s what he fucking thought. He knew you wanted this shit.
You trembled as he feasted on your clitoris. Sinking into the cushions as your hips stuttered. See he knew you liked it. It was so much better when you didn’t fight him. Now he could really give it to you.
He didn’t waste anymore time as he pulled the fabric from your body. Not giving a single fuck as to where it could have possibly been discarded before diving back in. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but it’s not like Steve wasn’t aware that he’d missed a woman’s touch. Maybe more than he realized.
“Fuck me, Bucky,” you sobbed as he got you closer. It had been so long since sex had just been about you that maybe you should take advantage of being a pillow princess. What girl wouldn’t want her hot metal armed best friend to eat her pussy. Can’t believe you tried to turn this down. “Don’t stop!”
Not like he planned too. Especially as he dipped his fingers into your cunt. Twisting them around so he could find your spot.
“Ah!” You cried, as soon as he hit it. That’s his fucking girl. He watched as your face twisted up in pleasure. Could taste how close you were. How yummy you were.
“Buck!” Steve’s voice could be heard from the hallway as the door slammed closed.
You sat up, quickly. Pushing his head away and scooting away from him to smooth out your dress. Shit. Fuck. “Babe, it’s okay,” Bucky whispered.
What the hell does he mean it’s okay. His boyfriend was about to walk in on-
“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here,” Steve said as he came into the room. Placing a quick peck on Bucky’s lips making your mouth drop. He had to have tasted you on his lips. You found yourself feeling stuck as you sat up, making sure you were covered. “Is everything okay?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.
Except it was like you couldn’t speak. What the hell were you supposed to even say as if his boyfriends face hadn’t just been close to making you squirt all over it.
“She caught Bryce cheating,” Bucky explained. Funny how that literally had not been on your mind this entire time.
Steve looked taken aback and scoffed. “What? No? Seriously?”
“Y-yeah… with… some girl,” you replied, not wanting to meet his eyes.
The super solider frowned as he grabbed your hand to pull you into a hug. Wrapping his arms around you. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. He’s a fucking idiot,” he said, much like his boyfriend when you’d first told him.
Only making you feel more horrible inside. How the hell could you do this to him. Especially after what Bryce had just done to you.
“It’s okay,” you said. “Maybe I should go.”
“And go where?” Bucky asked. “Not back to that apartment I can tell you that. Just stay here.”
The pair of panties Bucky had taken off of you were practically staring at you from the other side of the room. Steve’s back turned to it. “At least stay for dinner,” he said. “We can get whatever you want.”
Except even the suggestion made you feel more awful. Steve did not deserve this. If anything you should just say it. Not that the words would actually leave your lips. Tongue tied and all you could do was nod.
It was insane how quickly Bucky was able to act totally normal. Or that you were more frustrated that you never actually got the chance to finish. They were right though, you really didn’t have anywhere else to go, but here.
So there you sat right next to Bucky as the three of you ate the dinner Steve had ordered you. Trying to keep your cool as you didn’t want to bring too much attention to yourself. Even as you squirmed in your seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Bucky had really done a number on you. Could still feel his mouth on your lapping at your clit.
“So what happened?” Steve had finally asked from his spot across from the two of you. Obviously wanting to know everything. Not like you two weren’t normally close.
Your jaw dropped as you immediately tried to think of a lie. “Um, nothing,” you blurted out.
Bucky put his hand on your thigh, attempting to relax you except you were way too on edge. How could he just be touching you like this.
His boyfriend on the other hand raised an eyebrow at your outburst. “I thought you caught Bryce cheating?” He asked.
You closed your eyes. Duh he was talking about that. “I mean, I did,” you replied with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, he was with some girl.” You sighed.
“Well, what are you going to do now? You know we’re not going to let you go back. We have a perfectly fine guest room,” he said a smile on his face. Looking every bit of nice and sweet as he always did. The guilt already feeling like it was going to eat you up.
Didn’t even pay attention as you felt Bucky’s metal hands going up your thigh more. Getting dangerously close to the intimate place his face had just been buried inside of. You put your hand over it to move him, but he didn’t budge. Not giving a single shit.
You gulped at his fingers found their way up your dress again. Biting your lip as he chuckled. Not taking his eyes off of you as you struggled to answer. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Bullshit.” Bucky laughed. “You’re staying with us, Doll.”
You crinkled your nose which turned into biting the inside of your cheek, trying to hold in a moan. “We won’t take no for an answer.”
Well, that much was obvious.
——————————————————
The two of them helped you get settled in. You wore one of Bucky’s t-shirts since you literally didn’t have anything else. Had finally managed to grab your panties before you hoped Steve had seen them.
Your body still screaming out for release. Before giving you his shirt he’d whispered in your ear. “And you better not make yourself cum when you’re in the shower. Only I’m allowed to do that.” Wanting to prolong your torture.
What kind of shit was that. How did he get you so worked up like this. So easily. Hell that whole time you were with Bryce you can’t remember that happening. Not like you wanted to think about him.
The distraction was pretty nice, you had to admit. Who had time to think about being cheated on when your hot best friend was trying to eat your pussy.
As you opened the door you poked your head out, hesitating to call out to them. Hey, guys?” You called. Poking your head out from the restroom.
“Yeah?” Both of them were quick to chime in.
“Can you bring me some shirts!?” You asked. “I’m a little… exposed.”
You couldn’t see him, but Bucky snickered as Steve tilted his head at him. Both of them standing on either side of their king sized bed. “What?” Bucky said. “Oh come on I’m sure it’s fine,” Bucky tried to say with a straight face, but as soon as he was done he chuckled.
Steve shook his head, but couldn’t help the smirk that came on his face. “It’s really short,” you complained. “And I don’t have clean underwear.”
With that Bucky winked in his boyfriend’s direction. “Be right back.”
The smirk didn’t drop from the super soliders face as his boyfriend left the room. Only to go back to making up the third spot on the bed between them.
“What’s up, Doll?” Bucky asked seeing your head still sticking out.
“It’s too short,” you said, biting your lip.
He raised an eyebrow. Going to push the door open, not caring that you’d been blocking it. “Lemme see.”
“No!” You protested.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh come. You’re acting like I didn’t just eat you out,” he said.
“Steve is right outside,” you whispered harshly.
He rolled his eyes. “Steve’s in the room.”
“Yeah and he has super soldier hearing,” you pressed.
“It’s not all he has,” Bucky said under his breath. “Doll, you’re fine. I can’t even see anything.”
“My ass is out!” You gasped.
The man smirked at that, getting behind you to press your ass into his crotch. “And what a nice ass it is,” he whispered in your ear. Flesh hand landing on your breast to squeeze it and not giving a shit as you tried to swat him away. Going down your body until he was pushing up the shirt.
“We can’t!” You protested as his hand slipped down to your pussy. As bad as you wanted him to touch you, it didn’t seem wise. Fuck your body was practically crying for the release he couldn’t give you earlier.
“Everything okay?” Came the other man’s voice from outside the door.
Bucky scrunched his nose. “Yeah,” he called. Going to open up the door. “Tell her it’s not that bad,” he pressed.
You tried to tug it down so it was a little bit more past your thighs. Face heating up as Steve scanned up and down your body. “You look fine, Doll.”
Ugh. There the both of them go. The two of them were way too handsome to be having you stand here exposed with a dripping wet pussy. You bit your lip. Not like anyone else would see you. Just them. “Well… ok…” you sighed.
“Wanna watch a movie before bed?” Steve asked.
You nodded. Bucky put his hand on your lower back. Going down dangerously close to your ass. Only to finally come down to squeeze it tightly. Making you yelp. “Ah!”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows but laughed. “You ok?”
“I’m fine,” you squeaked, putting your hand over your mouth. Before making a pointed look at his boyfriend.
“Anyway, I was thinking we could watch a movie before bed,” Steve suggested.
“Actually, I’m kinda tired,” you immediately replied. Going to stretch your arms up and yawn until you remember how exposed you were.
“Oh come on, it’ll be fine,” Bucky said, nudging you.
“No. I have to be at work so early,” you replied. “It’s already way too late.”
“Hell no. You’re taking a sick day.” He looked appalled at the notion.
“I can’t.” You sniffled. “Besides, I’m off the next day. I’ll be fine.”
Bucky huffed. “Alright, fine, but what are you going to wear to work then?”
“I’ll just wash my clothes before we go to sleep,” you replied with a sigh. Haven’t exactly thought all of that through.
“So, movie it is?” Steve said.
Of course they’d get their way. Trying to keep your shirt from riding up too much as you went on your tippy toes to put your stuff in the wash. Closing your eyes when you realized your panties were still missing.
You peeked over to where they would have been. Except Steve would have definitely noticed them by now. “Looking for these?” Bucky asked. Holding up the pair. You immediately glanced over at where Steve was in the kitchen before reaching out to snatch them. “Ah, ah, ah,” he held them above his head. “Finders keepers, Doll,” he teased.
You let out a huff, crossing your arms. “Why are you being like this?” You asked. Honestly it was all so shocking. Normally he was such a sweetheart. He eats you out once and this is what he turns into?
Bucky shrugged. “Because I can,” he replied with a wink before leaning into kiss your cheek. “Now wipe that look off your face before I do it for you. You hear me?”
You nodded and sniffled. Wishing you’d gone anywhere else. Natasha’s maybe. Or hell even Sam’s place would have been fine. Not like you didn’t like how Bucky’s mouth had felt on you. It’s just now you were feeling terrible for doing all of this under Steve’s nose.
“Good girl,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
You sighed as he went back to the bedroom. Making you raise an eyebrow. Weren’t the three of you supposed to be watching a movie?
“Hey, Doll,” Steve said from his spot on the bed. Going through Netflix. “What movie did you wanna watch?”
“Oh? We’re watching in here?”
“Yeah?” He replied. “That a problem?”
You looked over at Bucky who despite not responding, had a smirk on his face that you wish you could wipe off of him. Sitting there smug with his hand in his pocket. No doubt toying with the pair of panties he’d stolen.
“Actually I think I’m just gonna go to bed after all,” you said. “I’m really tired.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Well, I forgot to set up the guest room.”
You crinkled your nose. Of course he did. “That’s ok. I can just sleep on the couch.”
“What?” Steve chimed in. “We have more than enough room for you, Doll. Come on.”
They had to be fucking with you. No way was Bucky getting what he wanted just like that. “No it’s fine. I’ll just get blankets from the linen closet.”
“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was stern. Commanding even. “Come. Here.”
You hated it when your feet started moving. Whether you wanted them to or not. “What?” You asked, not meeting his eyes as you stood in front of him.
“First of all, drop the attitude. Second, we told you, you’re sleeping in here so get over it.”
Steve watched the two of you, not saying a word. Didn’t he care that his boyfriend was trying to manipulate you? Right in front of him. Your bottom lip quivered, tears prickling at your eyes.
“I just wanna go to bed,” you whispered.
“Fine. There’s a perfectly good spot right between us. Is there a problem with that?” You shook your head. Not wanting to even argue anymore. Didn’t even feel worth it.
It was just too much for one night. All of it was. Can’t believe you hadn’t just started bursting out crying right between them.
Instead you tried to get some sleep. As restless as you were. Trying to keep yourself from tossing and turning since you didn’t want to bother them. Not like you had much room considering you were squeezed between two giant super soliders. “You ok?” Steve asked in a tired voice.
“Hm?” You hummed, not taking your eyes off the ceiling. “Can’t sleep.”
He yawned. “Hey, I know your ex was an ass, but you know Buck and I are going to be with you through this whole thing, right?”
You nodded, not saying out loud what was really on your mind. Fuck this was so wrong. Screwed up on so many levels. Too bad you didn’t kick Bryce out instead of coming over here, but at the time it was the natural thing to do.
Hell there was barely even any room between their giant bodies. Even in this large bed. Felt like if Bucky rolled over he’d end up squishing you. He’d gotten so damn close. Bad enough that the t-shirt they’d given you was sitting above your ass now.
“It’s ok I’ll be out before you guys even know it,” you said.
Steve scoffed. “Don’t be silly. You know you can stay here as long as you want. A city like this is no place for a little girl like you all alone.”
You scrunched up your nose at that. “I’m not a kid, Steve. I can take care of myself,” you assured.
“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to. Not as long as Bucky and I are around to do it.”
Speak of the devil, that was when he wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you against him. Ass going to his crotch. You let out a gasp and tried to wiggle away, but with Steve so close you were stuck. Not like you could get away from him anyway with the hold he had on you.
Not like you didn’t know that he was a cuddler. Not the first time the two of you had fallen asleep together. Never with your naked ass out though.
“It’s ok, Steve. Really,” you tried to assure him. As you were doing that, Bucky decided it would be a good time to sneak his hand between your legs. Taking advantage of you being bare. You let out a gasp, jumping as soon as his hand made contact.
“You ok?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Uh huh,” you squeaked out, trying to grab at his hands, but all he did was use one of his to hold yours down as he continued touching you.
“Hold still, little girl,” Bucky whispered in your ear, saying the last words in a mocking tone.
Your face felt hot as you looked forward at the blond. He had to know right. There was no way Bucky was just doing this right in front of him and he had no idea.
He pawed your thighs. Making sure they were nice and spread as his hand hands continued their torture. One going underneath the shirt to cup your breasts. Tweaking your nipples. He was groping you like he didn’t give a fuck about getting caught. Only made worse when his fingers finally touched your clit.
You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out. Especially as he pushed you back so you were really pressed against him. Hard dick to your ass.
“I’m ok,” you tried to assure Steve. The words on the tip of your tongue. Pressure building in your stomach already as you’d never had the chance to finish earlier.
“When are you going to get your stuff?” Steve asked. “You know we’re going to come with you, right.”
Instead of fighting him you just replied, “T-thanks, Steve.”
“Always,” he said. “You know Bucky and I are always here for you.”
Well, obviously.
“I know we don’t say it a lot, but you mean a lot to us,” he said and all you could do was swallow as you felt his boyfriend’s fingers bringing you closer and closer to what you never got to have earlier. “And Bryce was such an asshole. He never deserved you.”
You swallowed down the moan that was threatening to bubble out of your mouth. Only made worse as you looked into Steve’s bright blue eyes as he sleepily looked over at you. Not like you hadn’t heard that a million times from both of them, but right now he just looked so freaky and-
“Ugh,” came out of your mouth which you quickly covered up with a cough.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” Steve asked once again.
“Never better,” you lied through your teeth.
Steve yawned. “We should get some sleep. Goodnight, Doll.”With that he leaned forward pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. Catching you all the way off guard.
“Steve-,” you gasped, putting your hand up to your lips.
“What?” He asked with a chuckle.
“You can’t just-,”
“It’s not big deal,” he assured. “Bucky won’t care. It was just a little goodnight kiss.”
“Yeah, but-,”
He cut you off once more. “Unless you want it be to more,” he said with a wink.
What. The. Fuck.
“Goodnight, Doll,” he said not giving you a chance to say more as he closed his eyes. Smile on his face.
Bucky stopped what he was doing to put his face into your shoulder. Light snores coming from him. Hell his hand was still in your panties. Almost like he was making sure you couldn’t get away from him. The worst part about it was that not once did he let you fall off the edge.
You’d definitely need to start looking for places tomorrow.
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