#like guys please whats the point besides them being boyfriends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

1,644 Tumblr posts in 1 second.

#like guys please whats the point besides them being boyfriends

redbullgirly · 3 months

Text

Million Dollar Man [LS18 smau]

Lance Stroll x reader [social media au]

Masterlist

Summary: Lance's girlfriend isn't afraid to show how much her boyfriend loves and spoils her. Unfortunately, "fans" seem to think she's a gold digger. But who would Lance and Y/N bee if they just let it slide?

Warnings: A lot of hate towards the reader by online trolls and just toxic fans, at the end she and Lance shuts them up but if you're not in the right head-space to read this, then please don't.

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartin and 192,344 others

tagged: astonmartin and lance_stroll

yourusername life lately... how about you? 🍰💐

view all 3209 comments

user1 more like: life lately 💸💸💸

user2 LOL

lance_stroll life lately has been great ❤️

liked by the author

user3 Lance don't worry we're going to save you!!

user4 our guy is lyinggggg i can feel it

user5 Oh my god let them live a happy life you trolls🤦‍♀️

user6 how can you know it's happy when she clearly uses him for money?🤨

user5 And how can you know it's not? Besides I don't think she uses him for anything🤷‍♀️

user4 then your just as naive as him user5 lol

user7 she's so classy a love it!😻

user8 Can she even drive or she just wanted to take a photo in his car?

fernandoalo_oficial You are slaying Queen!😉

fernandoalo_oficial Did I do it correctly yourusername?

yourusername it's great nando, just please never use that emoji again and you'll be ready do graduate from my gen-z university!

fernandoalo_oficial Damn it I knew all you use these days is this one: 💀

yourusername 💀

user9 OKAY I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ANYONE SAYS ABOUT HER AND LANCE CAUSE I LOVE Y/N AND NANDO INTERACTIONS MORE THAN MY OWN LIFE!!

user10 i'm convinced she holds both aston drivers hostage in her basement and is forcing them to comment on her posts

user11 It's probably not even her own basement but Lance's😭

user12 nah she ain't even that pretty

user13 omg no way this post is the way I found out lance mf stroll has a girlfriend?🤠

user14 GIRL you have so much lore to catch up on

user15 Yeah welcome to the worst wag ever fandom xd

user13 wait I'm so confused... why do we hate her???

user14 bc she's basically a gold digger, like from the moment her and lance started dating she's been posting only about shopping and showing off herself and her bf's money

user12 plus she ugly af

user15 Yeah and there are rumors on twitter about her being really mean to everyone and that the whole paddock hates her and stuff...

user13 okay I get that but tbh we can't believe everything that's on f1 twitter

user14 idc she's a bitch even without the rumors

user15 I can tell Y/N is trying so hard to have the rich girly aesthetic... it's actually embarrassing😂

astonmartin Wow you have a great car right there😍

user16 more like her sugar daddy lance has it lol XD

user17 guys be fr if you had a rich boy you'd be spending his money too!!!

twitter

yourusername and lance_stroll posted on instagram stories

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by estabanocon, lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 206,948 others

tagged: astonmartinf1 and lance_stroll

yourusername thank you spa for having me! what a race, congrats to my favourite driver lance_stroll on p9 & his teammate fernandoalo_oficial on p5! great team work, hope to see you on another grand prix in the future astonmartinf1 💚🏆

view all 4022 comments

astonmartinf1 we hope to see you on another grand prix as well Y/N!🤩

liked by the author

user1 you don't have to lie admin, it's waste of money on her... better give the paddock pass to someone else

astonmartinf1 well, we definitely won't give it to you user1, so no need to worry about it 😙

user2 daaaamn, the admin is coming for y'all haters

user3 Of course she had to wear the racing suit... c'mon that's so embarrassing🙄

user4 actually it's pretty normal, I'm pretty sure Max's gf also wore his racing suit at some point

user3 Yeah but I at least like and respect Kelly... Y/N is a horrible gold digger

user4 well then I'm pretty sure it's your problem, not hers🤷‍♀️

user5 girl stop pretending you care about racing we all know you do it just for pr and cash xdd

user6 Honestly I'm not a Lance Stroll fan, but he deserves someone better than her...

lance_stroll Thank you to my favourite wag! 🥳❤️

yourusername love you baby!!!💞

user7 favourite wag😂 good joke😂😂

user8 am I the only one who finds their interaction cute??

user9 yeah you are user8... like just look at it, it's so forced... wouldn't be surprising if their whole relationship was fake

user10 You can hate on her all you want, but she's actually gorgeous in the third pic😻

user11 YUUUCCKK🤮🤮🤮

user12 you see I would be fine with this post if she didn't have to show off the aston martin car again!!!

user13 Hey did you notice she tagged Nando in the caption and he didn't reply to her? I call it ✨karma✨ lol

user14 maybe he escaped from her basement😭

user15 💚💚

user16 sorry but I can't help it. There's just something fishy about Y/N and I can't bring myself to like her at all

user17 Guys who is this girl and why does she get more hate in her comments than hailey bieber??💀

user18 I hate how she makes the whole Grand Prix about herself

user19 no but fr... like honey, idc about you and your favourite driveeer

user20 Tf?? She literally called LANCE her favourite driver how is that about her... you haters are so dumb🤦‍♀️

user21 I bet she read the comments on twitter about how she's bad gf for not going to any races and decided to fix her image by this XD

user19 lmfao didn't probably work the way she hoped

messages between Y/N and Lance

lance_stroll posted on instagram

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel, f1 and 330,219 others

tagged: yourusername

lance_stroll As some of you now, I am not very active on social media. Today I'm making an exception for Y/N, my lovely girlfriend I've been dating for almost a year now. She is one of the greatest, most kind, caring and selfless people I know. I don't know where the idea of our relationship being unhappy, one-sided or even insincere came from, but I would like to make it very clear once and for all that these assumptions are as far from the truth as they can be.

In my life, I experienced a lot of hateful comments and reactions myself. It is not something I wish anyone should have to go through and it's disgusting. I love Y/N with all my heart and I hope that one day, she'll make me the happiest man alive and allows me to marry her, build a family together. No one will ever again speak about her in an inappropriate way, or they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them. I am very serious about this.

Y/N, I'm not afraid to call you the love of my life. I never want to see you cry because of some meaningless hater. Love you to the moon and back, sweetheart ❤️

view all 4823 comments

user1 It's just so heartbreaking how Lance himself had to go through so many waves of hate because of his dad and now he had to watch Y/N go through it too...😓

yourusername love you to the moon and back too lance!!!💖

lance_stroll Wouldn't have it any other way honey!😌

user2 you know it's serious when sebastianvettel shows up

astonmartinf1 once the it couple, always the it couple!💚 proud to say we were never a hater😘

user3 i still think it's fake

fernandoalo_oficial and I think you are fake🤪

user4 LMAO nando come and get the haters lets goooo

user5 That's how you shut them up xd

fernandoalo_oficial how do you children say it? I AM LANCEY/N DEFENDER

user4 yeah yeah nando exactly that or you can say your a lancey/n truther

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

user5 omg I can't believe I just had online conversation with THE Fernando Alonso😭

user4 GIRL ME TOO AND HE EVEN LIKED MY COMMENT😭😭

f1 What a beautiful couple you are!🙌 Hope to see you in the paddock after summer break!😏

user6 "they'll be blocked and possibly face legal actions taken agains them" daaammmnn man is standing on business here

user7 Tbh I never understood why y'all hated on her sm she's literally so beautiful and seems kind as well🤷‍♀️

lilymhe pretty giiiirl

lance_stroll I couldn't agree more!❤️

yourusername oh stop you two I'm blushing

user8 Can we take a moment to appreciate how beautifully the caption is written?🥹 Lance really has some poetic talent!

liked by yourusername

user9 aaah she's still a gold digger and he's too blind to see it😂

user10 Yeah she probably charmed him in bed or sm

user11 Ohh user9 and user10... I wonder how it feels to know Lance and probably some other drivers hate you🫢

chloestroll My brother and my future sister-in-law!🥰

liked by the author and yourusername

yourusername 🥰🥰

user12 im actually so happy to see y/n replying to some of the comments and just being active without so much hate on her now!!!

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lance_stroll, kellypiquet, fernandoalo_oficial and 299,102 others

tagged: lance_stroll and dior

yourusername they say if he wanted to he would... I say he wants to so he does 🌹❤️

comments have been limited

lilymhe she ate you jealous people up with that caption

liked by lance_stroll and fernandoalo_oficial

lilymhe also alex_albon me when??

dior Wow!❤️‍🔥

lance_stroll That's what real men do instead of trolling others on the internet.

yourusername daaammn baby

lance_stroll What? I'm just stating facts 😌

kellypiquet shopping trip to Paris when?😍

yourusername anytime you want!!!💕

astonmartinf1 So lucky to (basically) have you on our team💚

fernandoalo_oficial I call that a slay admin

astonmartinf1 ...should I tell him slay is kinda out dated??

yourusername aaah let him have his moment

fernandoalo_oficial WHAT?! YOU TRAITORS I THOUGH I WAS GEN-Z APPROVED

yourusername 🫢

THE END

Author's note: I hope you liked my first ever social media au story! I'll be glad for every feedback, comment, like, reblog and everything! You can definitely send me asks and requests for another smau's and even 'normal' fanfictions. Have a great day!

1K notes · View notes

mangosrar · 3 months

Text

call it what you want.

matt sturniolo x fem reader. enemies to lovers!!

WHEW YALL HEY. it’s been a while but i’m super excited to be back. love u ❤️‍🩹

warnings: suggestive. arguing

this will be multiple parts!!!!

pt2

"im not a child anymore! i cant move 2 inches without them being on my ass about something" you exclaimed as you paced up and down the living room.

nick sat on the couch, gawking at you as you ranted. you sighed before stopping and pointing a finger at nick.

"and you know what, they dont do this to my brother, nooo he can fuck all the girls he wants but i mention one guy im not even dating and suddenly im going off the rails" nick just stared at you with a questionable expression on his face.

you knew he wouldnt understand, his parents were so lenient, so the fact you were going on a 20 minute tangent about how strict yours were was completely futile and you may as well be speaking in a different language.

you dropped your hands and whined before stomping over to the couch and plopping down next to nick.

"i mean, how could i win nick? they want me to be happy but i wanna be happy with a hot boyfriend" you said as you turned your head to look at him, he just looked down at you with a sympathetic but mischievous look.

"im worried my advice is going to get you in trouble" he cringed. you pulled your head back and furrowed your eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.

"i mean... you need to rebel y/n, find someone whos completely foreign to them" you stared at him, thinking for a second.

it wasnt like you wanted to, but the fact that their heads would fall off if you found someone who was the complete opposite of your parents and their expectations, brought you a little bit of complete fucking joy.

it was like a lightbulb moment, your eyes widened, and a cheesy grin pulled at your lips as you practically leaped off of the couch and continued your pacing.

"i need someone who is all mean and mysterious, or maybe a guy who drives a motorbike or plays the drums" you rambled looking at nick for approval but being met with a flat expression on his face.

"seriously y/n?" he questioned.

"whatever im just brainstorming" you waved him off.

"whoever he is needs to be nonchalant, he needs to smoke and drink, maybe dabble in partying every now and again, he needs to have tattoos and long hair. i mean be honest, if you came home with a guy like that, i think your mom would drop dead" he explained, letting out a small laugh before leaning forward slightly.

and as if god himself was listening, matthew sturniolo appeared in the doorway, in all of his long haired and tattood glory, sipping on a can of root beer, watching you intently.

both you and nick snapped your head towards him as he stood there with a stoic expression.

"what do you want weirdo?" you asked, raising your eyebrows.

he squinted at you before sticking his hand out besides him in question.

"your in my house y/n. the real question is what do you want" he spat.

truth was you and matt had never gotten along. despite your decade long friendship with his brothers, there was always something about him that you couldnt stand and apparently matt felt the same way towards you, so the two of you started an unspoken hatred for each other one day and it has stood strong ever since.

neither of you were sure why it started, but matt always hated the way you thought you were better than everyone else, how you could never admit when you were in the wrong, or the way your scent stuck to everything so he could always smell you around the house, but mostly he hated the way his cock would jump when you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, even when you were spitting insults at him.

"i want you to stop listening to our conversation and get the fuck out of my face" you bit back, turning to face him and crossing your arms, keeping your hard stare fixed on him.

"please, you love it when i get in your face y/n. and you know what, have a little more compassion, your parents are wonderful people." he scoffed as he took a step towards you, keeping his eyes trained on yours. he was clearly trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"they dont even like you matt, i wouldnt be so up their ass" you smiled sarcastically. he just laughed before taking another step towards you.

"and i cant stand their bitch of a daughter so were even" he spoke lowly, shooting daggers at you. there was a few seconds of silence where you and matt were just glaring at each other. wordlessly throwing insults and screaming at one another, before nick cleared his throat, causing the bubble around you both to pop.

you and matt turned to look at nick who was standing up from his seat on the couch, with an expression that you couldnt place. you could feel the heat radiating off of matt, in the midst of the bickering you hadnt realized how close he had gotten, you hadnt realized how good he smelt, or how him looking down at you like a disobedient child made you want to drop to your knees there and then.

nick opened his mouth to speak, his eyes jumping from you to his brother, who was stood not even a foot away.

"back to the topic at hand...why dont you date chris?" nick said like it was the most obvious option.

"you cant be serious..." matt trailed off, looking at his brother.

"no way nick, hes like my brother, plus my parents like him" you explained, ignoring matts comment, moving away from him and taking a seat back on the couch, folding your legs up underneath you.

"fake it, be in a fake relationship with him" you werent sure what planet nick was living on, but he was not helping in any way shape or form.

you just rubbed your hands over your face, groaning at the realization this was never going to work. there was a pregnant pause, all 3 of you, thinking completely different things, before matt broke the silence.

"ok so let me get this straight, you wanna piss off your parents, and show them your all grown up, by finding a guy in a biker gang..... as a scare tactic?" he asked, sending questioning looks between you and nick.

"not a biker gang matt" nick replied flatly, shaking his head at him.

"so just someone with tattoos, and long hair?" he spoke, placing his drink down on the coffee table and crossing his arms over his chest.

you shrugged and nodded your head at him. why was he so interested.

"so you just wanna use someone, to make your parents mad?" he furrowed his brows, desperately trying to get this right, but you were sure he was trying to make you feel bad so you didnt go through with it, just so you would stay miserable. or so you thought.

"call it what you want matt, i dont care what you think, this is none of your business" you spat.

you watched matts eyes wander from yours to his brothers who had been suspiciously silent. they were exchanging glances, like they were speaking some sort of wordless language, and it was concerning. usually, matt wouldve threw an insult back at you, but his expression didnt even waiver.

pulling your eyes away from matt, you turned to nick with a confused expression, and studdied his face, watching as his eyes lit up and he grinned, before turning to face you with a look in his eye that you couldnt decipher.

"before you say anything, just hear me out"

_______________________________________________

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @chrisenthusiast @st4rswrld @soursturniolo @kvtie444 @mattslolita @flowerxbunnie @lovingsturniolo @its-jennarose @ermdontmindthisaccount @secret-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @justaslvttygirl @urfavstromboli @recklesssturniolo @delimeats-000 @gloomymatt @gwenlore @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast

809 notes · View notes

empress-simps · 1 month

Note

For poly!marauders request (I saw you asked for some) could you do one where the reader faints out of nowhere and the boys get all panicked and worried and fret over her? 🌙

Hii! Thank you for the great request🫶🏻 It’ll be the first time I do a Poly!Marauder fic so pls do bear with me, I tweaked it a bit, hope you enjoy!

Worried Sick

Pairings: Poly!Marauders x Reader

CW: Mentions of toxic habits, Sirius being an arse, reader fainting, and language.

To say that you were tired would be an understatement. You were exhausted- mentally, and physically as you were buried in a mountain of books, flipping through almost a hundred pages an hour as you tried to juggle three essays and review for NEWTS all at once.

You were so immersed in your studying, the sound of pages flipping and scratching of the quill against parchment made you slip into a hyper-focused mode that you don’t notice the passage of time making you effectively miss lunch and dinner.

“There’s my smart darling!”

Sirius grins, sneaking up to you and kissing your cheek. You jolted, looking up as you saw him, and your other boyfriends sit next to you in the library.

“Hey guys.” You try your best to muster up a cheery smile for them. Remus, who was seated beside you frowns as he notices your pale and tired face. “We haven’t seen you today, love.” You smiled sheepishly, “I was finishing up the essays we’re assigned this week.” Sirius shakes his head in a disapproving manner. “Darling, you know we could just copy off of Remus’s essay when he does it, right?” A protest from Remus was heard, making you chuckle.

“I don’t think our moony would appreciate that.” You cracked a small smile, “But he lets us copy off of his essays ever since we can remember!” James defended Sirius who nodded agreeingly.

“What we would appreciate though, is you not missing out on dinner.” Remus told you, pulling out an apple and two dishes that the house elves prepared, (bribed by James) placing it in front of you.

“Erm... I don’t really have an appetite right now, love.” You grimaced, seeing the stern expression of the werewolf. “You need to eat, darling.” James pleads, puppy eyes activating. You looked at the other two, they seemed to mirror James. “Please love, you’re making us worried sick.” Remus gently pushed the food in your direction.

“Alright then…” How could you possibly deny your adorable boyfriends?

This continued for a few days or so, each day got the boys increasingly worried than yesterday. Sleeping for four hours (five if you’re lucky) and studying all day became your new routine, you hardly even spend time with the boys anymore, only during breakfast at the great hall since you mostly skip lunch and dinner to study. If it weren’t for your friends and your boyfriends, you would’ve already starved.

You groaned, plopping down in between Remus and James, taking a bite of the toast in front of you, and ignoring the light headedness you were feeling since you woke up. Marlene looked up from her plate and winced as she took in the sight of you.

“Merlin, y/n. You look worse than a dementor.”

“Thanks Marls, appreciate it.” You grumbled, taking a swig of the pumpkin juice, grimacing as you felt that a huge gulp of the beverage and a small bite of toast was too much for your stomach to handle.

“I’m serious, when was the last time you had a good night’s rest?” She frowns, shaking her head as she gave a pointed look at your boyfriends. “There’s already three of you and you can’t even manage to take care of your girl?”

“Not my fault she chooses to stick her nose into books rather than spending time with us.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, his dramatic and petty side surfacing. “Pads.” Remus warns, the light headedness that you’ve felt suddenly worsens as you feel the urge to throw up. Lily seemed to notice, shooting a worried glance on your way as you waved it off.

“What Moony? It’s true! It’s like she forgot she even is in a committed relationship with us.” Sirius spat, getting riled up as James tried to diffuse the situation. “Sirius, I already said I’m sorry…” She rasped out, trying to reach for his hand but he jerked it away. “Don’t be a knobhead, Pads.” Remus glares at him, irritated by how he’s acting.

Sirius rolled his eyes, it was obvious that he was hurt; You rarely spend time with them anymore, accidentally pushing them away and shutting them out just because of those stupid academics. “Whatever.” He grunts, and stands up, walking away from the table.

You felt yourself get weak; as the great hall spins around you, cold sweat started to form on your temple as spots slowly made it’s wany into your vision. Despite your body practically screaming for you to just sit and stay still, you push yourself from the benches and follow him. “Sirius, love- “He turns to you, frowning. “What now?”

You opened your mouth, about to say a word when suddenly your legs gave out, the spots grew larger as you tried to look at Sirius before your world suddenly faded to black. You heard screams from the students, the loudest ones you recognized were from your friends, especially Marlene and Lily.

“Shit!” Sirius was thankful for his awfully fast reflexes that he managed to catch you before you hit your head on the cold floor. James and Remus rushed to the both of you. “Bloody hell, Pads!” James kneels in front of you, gently tapping your cheek as a sense of urgency surrounds them. “Darling, please open your eyes, can you hear me?” James asked you, every second that ticks makes the feeling of dread in his stomach grow larger.

“P-prongs, Moony… I promise I didn’t know she was going to faint…” Sirius whimpered as he cradles you, eyes looking frazzled and darting back and forth between his lovers. James felt his breath become faster, as you didn’t respond to any of his attempts. Other students started to gather around to take a peek on what’s happening in the middle of the great hall while Marlene and the other Gryffindor students kept them from nearing. Remus knelt next to James, trying not to freak out like what the other two are already doing. He slowly placed his trembling hand on your forehead. “No fever, but we need to take her to Madame Pomfrey.” He announces, biting his lip as Sirius lifts you up bridal style, the three of them rushing you to the hospital wing.

The bright and harsh light of the hospital wing made you wince, you slowly blink, trying to adjust to the brightness of your surroundings. “Darling! You’re awake!” James tackles you into a hug, almost squeezing out the air from your lungs.

“Prongs! Be careful!” Remus’s tone was harsh, as if scolding James. The boy slowly pulled away, pouting, which Remus had ignored. “How are you, love?” Remus’s gaze softened as he looked in your direction, taking your hand in his as he rubbed circles in the back of your hand.

“For the most part, I’m fine.” You croaked out, James immediately gave you water. After taking a few sips, you let your eyes wander around, someone was missing- Where’s Sirius?

James seemed to catch on this, “He’s outside, beating himself up for being an arsehole.” You frowned, “Can you please tell him to come in? I want to see him…” You mumbled, James nodded and fetched Sirius outside of the hospital wing.

After a short while, Sirius emerged, darting his eyes anywhere but onto you. “Love…” You gently called out to him; Sirius bit his lip as he finally took in the sight of you. “Darling, I’m sorry. I was such an arse to you.” He sincerely apologized while you shake your head, “I’m sorry too, I was stressing out too much. I barely even managed to take care of myself and spend time with you guys.”

“Just don’t do it again, darling. We almost lost our minds when you fainted.” James told you as he tucks stray hair behind your ear.

“I won’t do that again; I’ll just copy off of Moony’s work.” She chuckled, glancing at the said boy, she saw the twinkle in his eyes as he smiled and rolled his eyes playfully.

The sun’s rays filtered out in the curtains of the hospital wing, encasing the four in a warm glow as they conversed amongst themselves, putting the events behind them; silently promising to love and care for each other, through thick and thin.

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the maruaders #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter

708 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

poly!marauders x reader but reader is contemplating their relationship?

(IDK IF YOU DO ANGST SORRY 😭)

No worries!! It's definitely not my most practiced genre but I'm happy to give it a try :) Honestly unsure if this came out as angsty enough, so please do not be shy and let me know if not! Thanks for requesting

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 886 words

James, Remus, and Sirius balance each other out perfectly. James is so sweet he should come with a warning label, always showering everyone in affection and bringing joy into every room he's in; Remus emanates a quieter sort of contentedness, and he provides a calm, rational perspective when the others need it; and Sirius takes everything they have together and dials it up to eleven, the depth of his feelings so intense that being around him is almost a sort of high.

The issue is, you're not sure where you fit into all that.

The boys seem to care about you, but you can't really figure out why. You have none of James' lightness, Remus' patience, Sirius' humor. You've been trying to hold onto this thing between you, to enjoy it while it lasts, but waiting for the other shoe to drop is becoming maddening. Eventually—someday soon, likely—they're going to realize that they're better off without you.

Naturally, you're pondering this while Sirius braids your hair, James chattering about why he thinks you all need a dog (Sirius has pointed out that you already have him) and Remus reading with his back leaned against your side.

You're trying to figure out the least needy way to ask why they care about you when Remus nudges you with a movement of his shoulder.

"You've been quiet tonight, dove."

It's far from accusatory, but the other boys pick up on the implication nonetheless. Suddenly, all the attention in the room is on you. It's a bit overwhelming.

"I was just thinking..." you say tentatively, unsure of your words. "Do you think we'll all stay together?"

James looks as though you've slapped him, and though Remus doesn't turn, you feel the muscles in his shoulders tense.

"Why would you say that?" James asks. "Of course I think so."

"But..." Merlin, there's no easy way to go about this conversation. "I just, I don't really see what I'm bringing to the table here." You cringe at your own words, awaiting judgement—or worse, epiphany—from your boyfriends.

Sirius, whose hands have been motionless in your hair since you spoke up, abandons his project entirely, letting your hair drop limply from his grasp. "Wha—what does that even mean, what you bring to the table?"

Remus turns around, placing a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Easy, love," he murmurs. "Y/N, can you tell us what you're worried about?"

You look between them as Sirius comes to sit beside Remus, feeling stupid and immature. "Sorry, it's not...a you-guys thing. It's just that, I can see how well you work together, and why you love each other, but I don't really see why you'd love me." Your voice gets quieter as you finish, shameful of your thoughts and the position you know you're putting them in.

Sirius releases a disbelieving exhale, slumping into Remus' side, and the taller boy wraps an arm around him, looking at you like you're one of his crosswords and have just given him a particularly perplexing clue.

"Sweetheart," James says, pulling your attention towards him, "it's not a matter of why we would love you, just that we do. Do you need to list off reasons for why you care about every person in your life, or doesn't it just happen?"

"I don't need to," you admit, "but I could. I love you guys because of who you are."

"And so do we," Remus says. "Dove, we care about you. Isn't that enough? Can you trust us with that?"

"It's not..." It's not a matter of trusting them. You'd trust any of them with your life, with everything. It's that you don't trust yourself. It's that you're worried you won't live up to it, to this earnest affection they're offering you. You don't think you deserve it.

"How about this," Sirius says, in his typical cut-to-the-chase manner. "If we didn't love you—and have damn good reasons for loving you—we wouldn't be with you. So there." You must look unconvinced, because Sirius arches a brow. "You don't think that, with James' bod and Remus' hot accent, not to mention my boyish charm, we could have anyone we wanted?"

You crack a smile, but Sirius just looks at you, awaiting an answer. You shrink a bit under his gaze.

"You could," you say sheepishly.

"Right." Sirius grins suavely. "And we used those combined faculties to snag this hot piece of ass." Without warning, he reaches out and drags you into him, the two of you piling an unfair amount of weight onto Remus.

You squeal, and James shouts "Oi! Leave our poor Moony alone," tugging on Remus' arm until Remus sighs, disentangling himself from Sirius and going to sit beside James. James ruffles his hair, planting a triumphant kiss on the taller boy's cheek. If Remus blushes a bit, you pretend not to notice.

"Got that?" Sirius looks at you threateningly, but his voice is soft, his eyes imploring. "We want you, baby. Finders, keepers."

James nods as if this is a sage decree. "Think you might be able to get used to that?" he asks, and you know he's only partly joking.

You relax into Sirius' hold, giving Remus and James an apologetic look. "Yeah," you say. You can definitely get used to this.

1K notes · View notes

tinyluvs · 8 months

Note

Hi! Could you do reader being pregnant with Hotch’s baby but she accidentally blurts it out to the whole team, Hotch included at the same time? Thank you if you do!

i absolutely can angel! you’re welcomee, enjoy !! ♡ cw; mentions of pregnancy sickness! nowt detailed/gruesome

the drive from the airport to the local police station is rough because of bumpy country roads, your stomach already feels uneasy and the local terrain is not helping at all

behind you, derek, jj and spencer squabble like children over something you don't care to listen to right now and beside you aaron is silent, eyes focused on the dark road ahead of you

your eyes flicker quickly to the mirror, seeing dave, emily and penelope following close behind in their suv before they clamp shut, focusing on the inside of your eyelids in a desperate bid to ignore your stomach churning

blindly, you feel around in the console for your bottle of water, sipping slowly while you stare at a barely there scratch on the dashboard

"kid, no, sorry but you're wrong!" derek huffs and turns in his seat and in turn, drives his knee into the back of yours, jolting your body cruelly

your eyes widen in panic, the gps estimates another fourty minutes to the station and unfortunately for you, you don't have that kind of time. heat prickles over your body uncomfortably underneath your fbi issued sweatshirt

"aaron," you mumble, looking up at him slightly. he turns his head towards you briefly, eyebrow raised before he's turning back to the road, "can you pull over?"

he turns back to you, no raised eyebrow but concern filling his eyes, "are you okay?" he asks quietly, though he doesn't make any attempt to get the suv off of the road

colour drains from your face, you feel it happen and your boyfriend watches it happen, "no, please, pull over," you rush out before swallowing thickly, your hands fumbling with your seatbelt

aaron pulls over as fast as he can without getting rear ended by dave. you're not entirely sure the car has completely stopped before you're jumping out to make a run for it

"what's going on?" you hear spencer ask

you're all of ten steps away before your body betrays you, lurching forward, hands gripping at your thighs as your lunch and the three bottles of water you'd drunk, repeat on you

a hand smoothes over your back, familiar, aaron, "honey," he sighs, using his free hand to collect your hair up gently. he rubs gentle circles into your back until your knees fail you, causing you to crouch

"is she okay? oh my god," penelope rushes over from the other suv, pulled in behind your one, blue lights lighting up the tree line a few feet ahead of you

you groan and rub a hand over your forehead when it's over, breathing in deep before standing. the entire team stares at you, all of their eyes wide and panicked, "guys, i'm okay," you offer up weakly

aaron pushes a bottle of water into your hand, "just sip it, please," he hums, guiding you a few steps back towards the cars

spencer visibly grimaces, face twisted in slight disgust and honestly, you can't blame him, "we should get you checked over," he says and you do your best to shake your head while sipping

"i'm sure she just ate something bad," jj offers up, sending you a soft smile and you wonder distantly if she knows. none of them should know, aaron doesn't even know

you had a plan, to tell aaron, a big breakfast and a cute announcement all on your day off but time had not been on your side. up until this point the sickness had been timing itself nicely with moments you could break off from the group without them noticing

"but it could be contagious!" spencer shrieks and then yelps when derek and jj both swat at his arm, hands slapping against his coat

"i'm okay, just give me a minute," you breathe, bending slightly to put the water bottle on the floor before leaning against aaron's side, "guys i swear,"

none of them look convinced and hell, if the situation was spun so you were a bystander, you wouldn't believe it either. aaron's hand slides across your back again, thumb tracing up the dip in your spine

penelope extends her hand, a few loose mints roll around in her palm, "thanks," you smile gently before swiping them from her, pushing all four into your mouth at once

"i'm just saying, i, don't want to get sick," spencer starts to argue with the rest of the team, "we have a case guys, if she's contagious and it's airborne we will all already have it!"

you frown as dave rolls his eyes as the younger boy, "you are not going to get sick spence, i swear," you reassure with a huff

"how can you be so sure about that?"

loudly, you groan, "because i'm pregnant, not sick," you snap and that shuts him up but everyone else gasps, all of them turning towards you, "oh my god," you slap a hand over your mouth in realisation

"you're what?" penelope shouts though emily and derek parrot her reaction. aaron's hand stops on your back as he stares down at you, his profiling skills being forgotten while he scans over your face

"i had a plan!" you cry, "i had a whole, elaborate, plan as to how i was going to tell you guys, i swear and now i've fucked it up, i'm so sorry," tears well up in your eyes before they overflow, spilling down your cheeks

aaron turns you towards him slightly, "hey, why're you crying, why're you saying sorry?" he asks gently, a small smile creeping over his face, "you're serious?"

you nod, sniffling gently when you wipe at your face with your sleeve, "i was supposed to tell you first and then the-"

your boyfriend has never been one for public displays of affection in front of the team, outside of a few pecks here and there but in this moment he doesn't care very much about the team

he surges forward, arms sliding around your waist to pull you closer for a kiss. you gasp against his mouth, suddenly very thankful for the mints you'd swallowed seconds earlier

around you the team hoots and woops, partly at the news and partly because aaron is kissing you like it could be the last thing he ever does

"you're not mad?" you ask when he pulls away, your fingers squeezing at his arms through his suit jacket before you turn your attention to the team, the question directed at them too

you get a clean sweep of no's before everyones rushing forwards, arms tangling around your body and whispers of congratulations passing your ears before they turn to your boyfriend to give him the same fate

"i, for one, cannot wait to tell baby hotchner this is how we found out," dave chuckles, hands shoved inside his pockets as he sends a wink your way

"what a story," you agree, fingers tangling into aaron's as the group divides up to get back into the suv's. jj's hand pats at your shoulder when you slide into the passenger seat

"when we get there, i'll take you to go and get some anti sickness pills" she whispers, "congratulations, again,"

before you can reply aaron's hand squeezes gently at your knee, "if you need me to pull over again, please don't wait until the last second," he scolds you through a smile

"yes boss," you giggle, eyes fluttering shut as he leans across the console to kiss your forehead. the suv rumbles as it peels away from the side the road and for the rest of the journey, aaron doesn't stop smiling, not even for a single second

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ aaron hotchner masterlist !!

a/n proofread badly, sue me xo

#❥ my works #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #thomas gibson #❥ my aaron works #❥ aaron hotchner #❥ aaron hotchner fic rec #❥ aaron hotchner drabbles

2K notes · View notes

ilwonuu · 3 months

Text

i’ll be quiet. p.jisung

⸱៰ ͘

suggestive mdni 18+

summary- jisung always wants to fuck you when he knows your brother is home. but how can you say no to your pretty boyfriend?

warnings- smut with no plot, softdom!jisung, pussydrunk!jisung, creampie, dirty talk, mention of mark and he is there for like a second. ,mark hears them. lmk if i missed something

word count- 795

you and jisung always hangout at your house. sometimes it’s awkward because mark is also there. mark and jisung are pretty close. you always feel bad for seeing him more than mark does. jisung always says he loves both of your company. saying he loves to hangout with both of you. well most of the time he is fucking lying because he always wants to fuck you. so you always end up saying your tired or something sneaking off to your bed room. leaving mark where ever you three we’re hanging out that day. mark would never question if you guys were actually going to sleep. he knew what was going on. he wasn’t stupid. he just hopes he won’t be able to hear anything.

“baby he won’t hear anything i promise to be quiet.” he says looking at you with pleading eyes. “jisung you always say you’ll be quiet but you end up being louder than me” you never believe him when he says he’ll be quiet because you know damn well. “fuck i swear this time okay? i will stuff something in my mouth or something babe please just let me fuck you.” you love it when he begs for you like this. he is just so cute and its only for you.

“okay fine ji but if you get loud we’re stopping.” ‘he nods knowing that you are not gonna want to stop once he starts. quickly shifting to be beside you on your bed slowly kissing your neck. slowly turning your neck more to get more access. “fuck baby i need you so bad” he says getting rougher with his kisses against your skin slowly taking off both of your tops. pulling you down further onto your back slowly climbing between your legs. “okay fuck i can’t wait anymore you think you can take it?” he pulls his boxers down to let his dick out reaching over to take your pants off aswell. “yes i think so just go slow at first okay?” he nods quickly pulling your panties to the side slowly lining his dick up with your entrance slowly pushing in.

“f-fuckkk you’re so fucking tight baby” his eyes don’t leave where you both connect. watching as he pushes every inch inside of you. “ji… please fuck me” he smirks to himself pushing all the way in groaning loudly as he does. “shit shit shit you’re so fucking wet but you’re cunt is sucking me so fucking tight baby. i-i’m not gonna last..” you knew this would happen. every time jisung swears he will be quiet he immediately proves that he will never be quiet. “ji y-you said you would be quiet.” you say trying not to get lost in the feeling knowing that when you do jisung will just get louder. he doesn’t respond continuing to fuck into at a rapid pace moaning your name somewhat loudly.

“j-jisung” he looks at you still with that smartass smirk on his lips. “yes baby? mm you feel good huh? want me to fuck you harder hm? you’ve been so good for me. yea? my good girl. “ his words going straight to your cunt completely forgetting about being quiet yourself. your eyes rolling back as he grabs one of your legs to fuck you at a deeper angle.

“w-what about mark ji?” you manage to get out with the pace he is fucking you at now. “fuck it he’ll be fine if he hears. this pussy is so fucking good s-shit” his hips stuttering coming close to his high. now you are absolutely fucking lost in the feeling. all thoughts you had are now being fucked out of you.

“i’m gonna fucking fill you up to the brim. u want that baby?” he fucks into you harder chasing his high holding your hips in place. you nod at his words completely dumb at this point.

“fuck y/n im gonna cum so hard. you are doing so well. you take me so fucking well. i could do this fo- shit. for hours.” you shake reaching your climax. you watch as he throws his head back coming shortly after you. you look down to see him pulling out slowly. moaning at the sight of his and your cum leaking out of your fucked out hole with the noise of your wetness filling the air.

“ji you were not fucking quiet.” you say glaring at him as he goes to grab a towel to clean you up. he chuckles deeply grabbing the towel and walking back to kneel in front of you slowly cleaning you up. “i doubt he heard babe” hearing a knock as soon as he finishes his sentence. “i indeed did fucking hear!!!! you guys are fucking disgusting.” you hear mark yelling thru the door making jisung laugh making you shoot him a playful glare.

#nct dream #nct x reader #nct smut #nct #nct scenarios #park jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #nct jisung #jisung imagines

787 notes · View notes

angelwithdemonictendencies · 3 months

Text

know me the way you know your childhood scars, like breathing; i wasn't running but if i was i'm glad it was to you.

tz11 x reader: a small town, a fresh start, a shared heart.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, thigh-riding (this is newish), dirty talk (if you're new, welcome!), mentions of previous relationship being awful, i know i'm forgetting stuff but all my typical things. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: my favorites - i think jd6 getting traded was exactly what i needed in order to write a tz11 character who is actually a nice guy. i call that the best-friend-getting-a-new-best-friend-who-is-named-cam-york effect. anyways, this is long as hell (14k, anyone?), because i have recently been absolutely so over law school guys. i just want a guy who likes to get his hands dirty and actually has friends. too much to ask? okay. obviously, i got so insanely carried away here, as you will be able to tell. we've got about a million side characters, some of which you will recognize, some of which you will not, because i made them up (tell me why i'm so into the matt/bridget dynamic. could write about just them. maybe i will). you guys know that there will be plot holes and dialogue issues and the likes, but you love me anyways, and i love you for that. tz11 should enjoy this, because i know he will inevitably be back in my bad graces soon enough. next up is someone new (!) because i miss when people used to write about tyson jost left and right. hm, what else? tell me what you think, what you'd like to see. my one year anniversary since my first post is feb. 2 (i actually can't believe how fast it went by, and i'm so grateful for you for sticking with me). so, so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. until next time.

this was probably a terrible idea, you thought, with your suitcases beside you, your head in your hands at the foot of the bed that would be yours for the foreseeable future. one bed of several at a local inn - local to this town, at least, not local to you.

no, you thought, jittery with unknowing and chance and uncertainty, none of this was familiar to you. not this town in the middle of nowhere, hundreds and hundreds of miles from your hometown, your university. not any of the few people you had interacted with, not the uber driver, the inn keeper, the housekeeping staff.

not one part of this place, this experience, not one part was familiar. but that's what you'd wanted, wasn't it? that was the whole point?

you'd wanted to find yourself, wanted to prove that you could take care of yourself, exist on your own, thrive outside of the bubble that was university.

you wanted a fresh start, away from ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend, their betrayal still fresh, a wound scabbing over on your heart. you wanted to breathe deeply and not worry about who was watching you exhale - a place where nobody knew you, where nobody could whisper about the girl whose boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend. for three years. she's so stupid, how could she not have noticed?

well, here, you decided, that's what you would get. a humble job as a diner waitress lined up to start tomorrow, a booked room with no check-out date, not a laugh you'd recognize for miles and miles.

this is what you'd wanted, you told yourself, now, loneliness settling in your mouth the way the powder on sour candy does. this is what you have.

completely exhausted from travel and emotional havoc, you passed out that night amidst dreams of fresh starts and trees too tall to see you behind them.

such a lovely image did not last nearly an hour into the next morning, the first day of your new job, just a block or so from the inn you were staying at.

this was part of the reason you had chosen this place for your self-discovery journey, after all - the urgent hiring, competitive wage, amazingly low price for room and board.

you had worked in your university's coffee shop for a year or two to help pay your tuition, so, honestly, how different could it be?

very different, you realized, almost immediately. they were hiring urgently for a reason, which meant there was practically nobody there to train you. one of the line cooks, of all people, just threw you an apron and a name tag to wear over your uniform-compliant black skirt and shirt, mumbled something about a welcome, enunciated something louder about table three needing service.

and so your self-proclaimed new life began completely unceremoniously, with a name-tag that misspelled your name, the smell of waffles and western omelets permeating the air like some grandmother's perfume in an old living room.

at the very least, the business made the time pass quickly, as you paced from table to table, only pausing briefly to introduce yourself to the line, the host, the several curious patrons who asked about you.

"new girl," some impossibly old man husked, "they not have hot coffee where you're from?" he grimaced as he took another sip. "cold as a winter's -"

"okay, that's enough," his companion said, a woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with blonde hair chopped short. she gave you a sympathetic look, like you two were sharing some inside joke. you liked her immediately. "he's had about twelve cups already. don't mind him."

you felt your mouth tick up in a smile for what might have been the first time this morning as you introduced yourself to her, and her father, who you learned everyone affectionately called "old man peters." you learned that the young woman's name was bridget, and she insisted on giving you her number, in case you had any questions, or wanted to get together, or needed anything at all.

your day was already looking up, you thought, as you lifted your sulking ponytail from you back, loose strands curling at the nape of your neck, around your ears. bridget and old man peters bid you goodbye, and then the young host, a boy who stuttered so much over his name that you still didn't quite know what it was, sheepishly alerted you that he had seated a group at the booth in your section.

your flipped to a new page in your notepad as you walked back to the booth, your gaze quickly being tugged up by a drawl-ish voice blurting out "dibs! i call dibs!"

such as exclamation was followed by several groans and one "not fair, you're the only one facing the door."

your brow was slightly scrunched in confusion when you stood at the head of the group's table, four pairs of eyes faced to you in a way that made you feel like a politician about to give a speech.

you cleared your throat, not quite looking anyone in the face. "good morning," you said, "can i get you guys started with some drinks?"

you looked up from your notepad, clicking your pen against the surface of it, taking in the table of - well, you weren't really sure. construction workers, maybe? craftsmen? the four of them had on heavy canvas-like jackets, worn and worked in, highlighter-bright shirts underneath, callused hands that your observant eyes took note of immediately. they were young, too, probably about your age, which made you blush, only a little. these were not the kind of guys you had met in college, the kind who you would have taken a class on freud with, the kind who thought everything with a woman's hand around it was a phallic symbol.

"just coffee," one of them said, short. he tacked on a please when one of his friends smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

you motioned with your pen around the whole table. "for everyone?" you asked, but the question stumbled out of your mouth when your eyes caught on the last of the four, the one on the bench on the right, closest to you.

that sharp face, high cheekbones and cut jaw, should have been so serious, you thought, like some kind of statue, the kind your art history friends would have fawned over in a museum you didn't really want to go to. he should have been so serious, angular like that, but he was anything but. mirth danced in his eyes, so bright they almost sparkled. his full mouth was fixed in a sort of perpetual smirk, so ready to laugh that he was already halfway there. he had the lines around his eyes that told you his full smile would tear you in two.

you were probably staring at him, you realized, flushing deeper as his smirk broke free into something wider, all over his face.

"see, guys," he spoke, that goofy drawl you had noticed on your way over, nothing like the pretentious academics who spoke in circles. he leaned back in the booth. "doesn't matter that i called dibs. she likes me best anyways."

your face scrunched up in some combination of disbelief and hidden delight. "wait," you began, "when i was walking over here, when you said something about dibs," you fixed him with what you hoped was a glare, "you were calling dibs on me?"

he shrugged off his jacket, drawing attention to his wide shoulders, arms thick even through his bright long sleeve. you snapped your gaze back to his eyes, which shimmered, telling you that you'd been caught. "what's the big deal?"

you scoffed, blew a stray curl from your eye line. "you don't call dibs on people," you said.

"yeah, trevor," one of his friends teased, "what's wrong with you?"

"where to begin?" one of the others said, almost lost in thought.

"c'mon, sugar," trevor said, tilting his head, "'s a compliment, yeah?" his gaze rolled down your frame, almost gelatinous, meeting your eyes again reluctantly. "only 'cause you're so pretty, hm?"

you rolled your eyes, fixed your gaze on the one across from him, the one who looked the least engaged. "but, trevor," you whined, stretching out his name like salt-water taffy, "what if i wanted-" you paused, looked down at the blonde just below you.

"matt," he said, practically bored. you nodded your thanks.

"what if i wanted matt?"

his posture grew even more relaxed as he shifted his knees wider under the table. "oh, what if, sugar?" he mused, his eyes so expressive, never off of you for a moment.

"she's gonna spit in your coffee," matt said.

"how about we cut out the middle man and she just spits in my mouth?" he chirped, smirk so telling it made you flush pink.

you mumbled something about decorum before walking away in a flurry of annoyance and excitement. you couldn't really tell the difference, you realized, as you gave the poor host a pot of coffee and asked him kindly to drop it off at the back booth.

you were not something to be called dibs on, that was for sure, and you were here to find yourself, not anyone else, certainly not some guy. even if some guy had soft-looking hair and a witty mouth. even then.

you took a stabilizing breath and got back to work, noting that the back booth only got coffee, only stayed for about twenty minutes before making to leave, heavy jackets loud as they shrugged them back on.

three of the guys called out their thanks and headed out, leaving only a standing trevor there when you approached to settle their bill. thumbing through his wallet, he grinned down at you when you finally stood in front of him again.

he was taller than you thought, you realized, as he now stood at full height. you had to crane your neck slightly to look him fully in the face.

"thought you'd be shorter," you said, honestly, hoping to knock him down a peg, however mean that might have been. but of course he only smirked.

"get that a lot," he drawled, selecting a bill, putting his wallet back in his pocket with hands you had to force yourself not to stare at. "been told 've got the personality of a short guy in the body of a tall one."

you shook your head. of course someone had told him that.

you couldn't really ruminate on that, though, as he stuck the twenty in the front pocket of your apron, as well as something with a slight weight to it, urging an angry pink to the tops of your ears, the feeling of his wide hand warm, so close to you.

you peered up at him, sucked on your teeth as he pulled out his hand slowly, that ever-present smirk almost faltering at your gaze.

"thanks for the service, sugar," he said, and you probably imagined the way the end of his words sounded strained. "see you around, yeah?"

you didn't break eye contact, only let yourself smile back at him before turning and getting back to work, letting the push and pull of waitressing lull you into a rhythm during which it was practically impossible to think too heavily about bright eyes and broad shoulders.

by the end of your shift, you had been officially tired out. you were sure your hair reeked of coffee, and your ankles ached from standing all day.

going to empty your apron, however, right before you left, your hand settled on the bill from earlier, but also several wrapped butterscotch candies. your face contorted as you stared at them, wondering why trevor had put them there.

exhaustion won over curiosity though, as you thanked everyone for your first day and walked the short block back to the inn.

this won't be that bad, you were thinking to yourself as you walked up the stairs. you already had the phone number of a maybe-friend, after all, and as far as jobs went, this one could be a lot worse. good money, good way to meet new people, maybe even something pretty to look at -

as if summoned by your thoughts, when you turned out of the staircase to your hallway, there trevor was, standing on a ladder, looking into the ceiling, some box of tools on the floor.

you narrowed your eyes, bag suddenly feeling heavy on your shoulder. the presence of a new figure drew his gaze to you, and you had to scold your heart, the way it beat like a teenager at the way he looked at you, then. you didn't know him, after all, and you weren't here for anything romantic.

"you followin' me, sugar?" he asked, stepped down from the ladder, making his way over to you. his voice was slow and tired, from whatever he had done that day. you were shocked at the fact that you wanted to know what that was. his gaze shone as he gently took your bag from your shoulder and slugged it onto his own, fell into step beside you. you let him. "tell me you're following me."

you rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face wasn't going anywhere. "this is where i'm staying," you explained, "so, if anything, you're following me."

you stopped in front of your door, leaned back against it, suddenly in no rush to lock yourself behind it, alone. not when he was on this side of the door, looking like this.

almost weary with hard work, but not weary enough to sour him, just enough to make his movements and expressions slightly slower, lazier, more indulgent, like they were drenched in chocolate ganache. not when he was here, looking at you like this, like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

after years at some preppy, pretentious university, at which ingenuity was the most valuable currency, one you felt you lacked so disgustingly, was it really too surprising that you softened under his gaze? that you wanted to stay in it, just a little bit longer?

"sugar?" he asked, head tilted, and you realized he had been talking.

"sorry, what?" you asked, your voice soft like sponge cake, willing your eyes to focus, your mind to focus harder.

he didn't tease you too badly, though, only let his smile grow sharper with a smirk. "i said that 'm sorry if i hurt your feelings with the dibs stuff," he said, and you were almost confused at his apology. you weren't even upset, and when was the last time someone had apologized to you so quickly after doing something?

your memory cut hazily to your ex, somehow trying to convince you it had been your fault that he cheated on you, that it was something you were lacking that had inevitably led him to do that. you practically shivered, then internally scolded yourself for comparing trevor, whom you had met today, you reminded yourself, to your ex-boyfriend.

"'s fine," you said, waving him off, your back softening further into the door. "didn't really hurt my feelings."

his eyes flashed. "didn't really or didn't, sugar?" he asked, searching your face.

you swallowed, acutely aware of his attention, how it slid down your nose, your cheeks, your jaw, slow and thick as sludge. "didn't."

he gave a nod. "'m sorry anyway," he said, and it came out low. "if you really want to go for matt, i won't stop you."

and part of you wanted to blurt out i don't want matt!

but it was your first day in this place, and honestly, you were still kind of hung up on his apology, and the way it sounded from his chapped lips, and you knew to correct him would be exactly what he wanted.

so you just said "thank you," and were shocked at how gentle it sounded.

"jesus christ, distracted, are we, trev?" the voice of the young inn-keeper called from the end of the hallway. he seemed awfully chipper as he approached, hands in his pockets. "i came up to check on your progress," he said, "or lack thereof, i guess." he looked between the two of you. "now i see who's stolen your attention."

"i'm on my legally-required fifteen minute break," trevor said, half-smiling, turning back to you. "sugar, you know my brother, griff?"

you nodded, suddenly clocking the subtle ways their appearances drew from each other. trevor was taller, griff had a wider face, bigger features. but they had the same eyes, same strong nose, mirroring grins. "he owns my room," you said, dumbly, tiredly.

griff only smiled. "she's had a long day, trev, leave her be."

trevor searched your face again, seemed to find all the proof he needed - your heavy eyelids, drooping shoulders. he gently handed your bag back to you. "i'll see you tomorrow, sugar," he said, as soft as you'd heard him. so soft it startled you. "sweet dreams."

"goodnight," you said to both of them, shutting the door behind you. sleep came easily that night, again, with dreams less so of hiding behind trees and more so of rough hands and laughing eyes.

you were surprised, pleasantly so, at how quickly you fell into a routine in your new home. surprised at how quickly you let yourself call this place that.

maybe it was the way that bridget wasn't just being polite when she had given you her phone number, as she had quickly set up dates to show you all her favorite hiking spots around. your weekly hikes with her became a highlight as she told you more about the town, about her young daughter, about book club, about anything and everything. she was so kind with you that you found yourself so comfortable confiding in her. it felt so easy calling her a friend.

maybe it was the way the town seemed to accept you as one of their own so quickly and genuinely. the line cooks flirted with you in the way only line cooks do (in ways that would not be acceptable outside of a kitchen). they made you food to take home, kept you from starving. the host, harry, began to trust you enough that he asked for your help on homework. the regulars began to recognize you, know your name, ask how you were doing. griff checked in on you, asked if anything was wrong with the room, said you should feel free to use his kitchen anytime (as your room was the simplest kind, and didn't have any cooking appliances). you began to know the names of the streets, the stores, the store owners. your fresh start was starting to feel like just that - a start.

or maybe it was that same group of guys who came in every morning, at the same time, who ordered only coffee and then left in a flush of waves and heavy jackets and called-out salutations. you learned that the one with the curly hair, alex, was the quietest, probably the smartest. his closest friend, cole, was the shorter one, who had the loudest laugh. and matt was warming up to you, you thought. the more you made fun of trevor, the more he seemed to like you.

it was that same group, every day, who came in loudly and left louder, who had paint and dirt smudged on their shirts, their hands. who drank coffee like it was water. who laughed like it was easy as breathing, and maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

and, of course, there was trevor, who, the more you got to know him, the more trouble he became. every day, his "good morning, sugar," would reverberate through your chest, and you would drop a pot of coffee at their table, ask how they were doing, listen for their answers.

some comments about how old man peters' roof is caving in, and he should have told them about it probably a year ago, or about how the police chief's plumbing is fucked, or about how they were going over to fix bridget's sink that day. and, if it was the last one, matt would flush, which would make your eyes widen, would make you pepper him with questions about his crush.

and then, at some point during their morning break, trevor would ask something about you, about how you were, about the way you were wearing your hair, the shoes you were wearing, the book you had been reading the week before. and then, as he left, without fail, he would slip a bill and several butterscotch candies into your apron pocket, each time his hand growing heavier, more significant as it settled so close to you.

it didn't particularly help your small crush that you saw him everywhere. he was always fixing something - in the diner, at the inn, in the park downtown. you couldn't escape him and his deft hands, his working mind, his strong frame and easy laugh and addictive smile.

he was everywhere, so of course he would be here, at the grocery store, after your shift one day. you were roaming the isles, looking for a specific kind of vinegar, your basket hoisted up onto your hip, when a low whistle made you turn. you were met with that lazy smirk, your favorite one of his, the nighttime one, the tired one. he approached you, his work boots heavy on the ground.

"you followin' me, trevor?" you asked, repeating what become something of an inside joke between the two of you.

"maybe," he said, looking down at you, shimmering eyes framed by long lashes. "do you want me to be following you, sugar?"

you hummed, noncommittal, some harmony between the fluorescent lights above, the whir of the fridges the next isle over. you turned back to the shelving, resumed your survey of the contents. "your brother offered his kitchen for me to use while he's out tonight," you said, not looking at him.

"did he?" trevor mused, an almost undetectable bite in his tone.

you nodded, eyes alight with excitement. "been eating pancakes and chicken noodle soup for weeks now," you said, referring to what the line cooks sent you home with. "swear my mouth's watering just thinking about something different." you ran a thumb along your bottom lip, as if checking for spit.

if you had been looking at trevor, you would have see his shallow swallow, the way his eyes tracked your movement, how his gaze hung from your mouth like lacy ribbon. he cleared his throat.

you finally located the vinegar you wanted, on the very top shelf. pushing yourself up on your tiptoes, you reached the tips of your fingers for the bottle, only just out of reach.

trevor only chuckled as he grabbed the bottle easily, took the basket from your hip and into his own hand, dropping the vinegar into it.

"i can carry that, you know," you said, suddenly wishing you had something to do with your hands.

"i know," he said, smug.

you rolled your eyes, huffed a thank you, anyways.

"so, what're you making?" he asked as you led him from aisle to aisle, loading your basket with ingredients.

you explained to him how, in college, this one salad had been your absolute favorite to make when you needed something that made you feel good. something about the combination of arugula, kale, chickpeas, sweet potato, whatever other vegetables you had on hand, sometimes chicken, if you were feeling fancy, something about the simple dressing of oil and vinegar - it was perfect. no meal left you feeling as good as this one did.

and it was how you had made it entirely on your own, too - it wasn't some fancy steak dinner your ex had buttered you up with after a fight, it wasn't boxed brownies shared with your old best friend the night before you found out - no, this was all you.

when you looked back at trevor, there was something molten in his gaze. "sounds amazing," he said, low, like he didn't want anyone else to hear.

you tilted your head, let your smile slant across you face, scrunched up your nose, teasing. "would you want to join me for dinner, trevor?"

his face split into a grin. "i would," he said, "i would want to, please."

and so you found yourself fumbling around someone else's kitchen with an audience, washing kale and peeling sweet potatoes with fingers that twitched towards the figure across the counter, practically irritated that they weren't touching him.

you scolded your hands to behave, which became easier as the night went on, as conversation flowed like cranberry juice, the flavor of it lingering in your mouth just the same.

he might ask you about how the diner was going, to which you would look around as if to make sure no one was there. his eyes would flash. you would miss this.

"harry's been making some real progress in precalc," you would say from behind your hand, speaking of the host, whom you had come to view very fondly. "and you didn't hear it from me, but i think he's going to ask his friend jason to the school dance next weekend."

you would be flushed with excitement and pride, and trevor wouldn't be able to get much beyond that, honestly, the way it lit you up from the inside out.

but then he would clear his throat, and lean forward on his hands, and tell you that if harry needed help asking jason to the dance, he knew exactly the best crew for the job.

"don't tell me you're talking about your rag-tag group of misfits," you would say, cocking a brow as you dressed the kale and arugula.

and he would feign offense, place a broad hand over his heart. "i'll have you know that this group of misfits went 16/16 in high school dance invitations," he would say. "all four of us, all four years."

you might roll your eyes. "real band of heartbreakers, were you?" you would say.

and laughter would shine behind his eyes like christmas tree lights behind store windows, and he would stretch his arms above his head, lazily, comfortably. "'course not," he would say, his voice the sort of raspy that comes with stretching, "only alex."

and this would pull a real laugh from you, as you tossed everything together, the kind of laugh that rung in his ears, that made him pleasantly dizzy.

as the night passed on, time moving altogether too fast and the kind of slow that oozes, you would learn about how he grew up in this town, how he went to trade school, how he had had the same friends his entire life. you would ask questions about if he ever felt the desire to leave (not really), how he got into manual labor (he never really felt like he was that good at anything else), what his family was like (close, but not overbearingly so).

and, in turn, between bites and sips and laughs, you would tell him about how you grew up (humbly), what school was like (hard, but rewarding), how you ended up here (cheap housing, good job, close community). and maybe you would actually tell him about the ultimate betrayal you had faced before you left, why that made you want to be somewhere, anywhere else, somewhere where you had no choice but to make a life entirely for yourself.

at the mention of your ex his jaw might clench, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. he would mutter something about nonsense, and you would smile.

he would ask questions about your family (just your dad and you), your favorite parts of your life here (hikes with bridget, homework sessions with harry, bickering with old man peters).

and he would pout, at that, his bottom lip looking so positively delicious it stole your breath. "'m not your favorite, sugar?" he would plead, joking.

maybe you would really look in his eyes, then, find something hot, tilt your head. "you wanna be?" you would ask, breathier than you intended.

and he would smirk, somehow flipping the dynamic on its head entirely with only a single expression. "you know i do, sugar," he would tell you, low and so loaded you would blush.

it might scare you how easily you let him in, how quickly you were warming up to him. his pretty face might scare you, because pretty faces had hurt you before. there had been no one prettier than your old best friend, after all, and look how that turned out.

so, when the night grew viscous, and the meal was long over, the dishes done, a portion for griff packed up in tubberware on the counter, when he walked you upstairs to your room, both of your steps slow, reluctant, when his gaze lingered on your lips and the smell of him grew distracting, the height of him all-consuming, even then, even though you wanted to, you didn't kiss him. you only bid him a gentle goodnight.

"thank you for tonight," he would say, instead, looping his arms around your neck, hugging you close to his chest. this was so much worse, you thought, as you breathed him in, wrapped your own arms around him and squeezed. the way he held you like he was afraid what would happen if he let go. his hair so messy and his tone so genuine it almost hurt. "sweet dreams, sugar," he said into your hair before pulling away.

even though, that night, you might have dreamed about how his rough hands might feel as they held your soft cheek, how his chapped lips might slot against your glossed mouth. even if you woke up, that next morning, practically sweating. not the sweetest of dreams.

today was your day off. you had plans later with bridget, but you decided to book a haircut and blowout at the salon downtown, since you had the whole morning to yourself. the salon was one place you hadn't been in, yet, and you hadn't had a haircut in months, so you figured now was a good a time as any.

the bell above the door rang when you stepped inside, but no one seemed to notice over the shrill thrum of hair dryers, sinks, and the steady stream of gossip that you appeared to have walked in on.

"she told me her trevor went on a date, julia," one of the stylists said seriously, her eyes expressive as she sectioned her client's head of long curls. "won't stop rambling on and on about her, she says."

your heart jumped in your chest at trevor's name, sunk accordingly. he had been on a date? you weren't sure why you had assumed you were the only girl in his life at the moment, but it stung, nonetheless. you pulled at a thread on your long sleeve, eyes down.

you can't be upset, you told yourself, don't you dare be disappointed-

"oh, honey, how long you been waiting?" one of the stylists called out, making her way over to you and the front desk. "swear you have to throw somethin' at one of us when you come in or we'll never stop talking." she had such an easy way of speaking, a comfortable posture, a genuine face.

"sorry," you said, looking around, still recovering from what you'd overhead.

she just waved you off with a smile. "it's us motormouths who should be apologizing," she said before introducing herself as ginger. "now, what name is your appointment under?"

you told ginger your name, and as soon as you did, her eyes sailed up to meet yours again, wide and bright. she snapped her fingers, getting the room's attention. "you're the doll who stole our baby trevor's heart!"

you blushed furiously, felt the words in your mouth twist and tangle like a toddler's hair. "me? no, that can't be right," you said. there's no way last night counted as a date, you thought. there's no way he's talking about me.

the other stylist just squealed as you were led to a chair. "of course it's you! look at her, julia," she said to the woman in her chair, practically elated, "what a treasure!"

your blush wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"that boy's been talkin' to 's mama 'bout you, honey," julia said from her chair, her expression knowing. "he's just about smitten, she says."

"and a mother always knows," ginger said, emphasizing her words with hairbrush gestures.

so you spent your appointment getting a couple inches off, hearing about the trouble trevor used to get in when he was younger (apparently alex used to be the biggest troublemaker, though), hearing about how trevor just went around fixing whatever anyone needed fixing.

"swear that sweet boy wouldn't charge a dime if this town'd let him," ginger said as she worked long layers into your hair, "we have to sneak payment into his pockets, and even then he tries to give it back!"

your cheeks burned, your heart heavy with affection as she blew out your hair, leaving it soft and smooth. you paid, said goodbye for about ten minutes, found out just how hard it was to escape salon conversation.

"now go show off for our baby, honey!" someone called out the door after you, making you laugh. you guessed that all the stereotypes about small town hair salons were true.

you went on your weekly hike with bridget, who gave you that understated grin when she saw you. "looking good," she said, bumping her shoulder into yours. "trev doesn't stand a chance."

you rolled your eyes. "didn't get my hair cut for him."

she laughed. "i know," she responded, "but all anyone can talk about this morning is your date last night."

you couldn't help but scoff good-naturedly. "i can't believe people already know about this," you said, "it was literally last night, and it wasn't even a date."

she waved you off. "nobody cares about the logistics. even my girl was moping to me about it. she's got a little crush on her skating instructor."

"trevor teaches your daughter how to skate?" you asked, having never heard of this.

she nodded. "he's the highlight of her week," she said, her eyes soft, picturing her daughter's unabashed smile.

"get in line," you mumbled, covering your face with your hands.

why was everyone so intent on revealing adorable information about trevor to you today? didn't they know he already took up enough of your daily headspace?

"can't somebody tell me he hates animals, or something? or that he's really pretentious about art? or that he has, like, some weird fetish?"

bridget laughed. "sorry, babe," she said, "he's the town's sweetheart."

you were still reeling with all of this information when you got back to the inn, your face rosy from the outside chill, your body pleasantly awake from your walk.

you began up the stairs, humming to yourself, ready to collapse onto your bed, maybe catch up on some reading.

"you followin' me, sugar?"

you looked up, immediately, feeling your pulse in your neck, in your teeth.

there he was, of course, there he was, painting the railing in the stairwell, the sharp smell of paint faint in the air.

all dirtied up from the day, that slouch that only appeared in the late afternoon, that crinkly smile, all of it made him almost too good to be real.

"maybe," you said, like second nature now, after all those times before, his face forcing a tiny smile from your mouth.

you stood just in front of him now, held your breath as he reached up, twirled a strand of your hair around a finger. he let out a low whistle you felt in your stomach.

"lookin' awful pretty tonight," he said, not much more than a whisper as he thumbed the soft ends of your freshly-cut hair.

his words settled like thick caramel on your tongue. "thank you," you mustered, your mind spinning with all of the wonderful things you had heard about him, today.

he bent down to one knee in front of you as you collected your thoughts. "um, what are you doing?" you said, strained, dumb.

he looked up at you through those girlish lashes, smirk heavy on his perfect face. he tugged your foot closer to him. "shoe's untied," he said, gesturing to your sneaker. "may i?"

you blinked at him before nodding, because what alternate universe was this? you tried to imagine any other man you'd known willingly getting on the floor for you, just to tie your shoe. you couldn't.

he tightened your laces with nimble hands.

you cleared your throat. "heard something funny today from the ladies at the salon," you told him, trying to focus on something other than his proximity.

he hummed. "nothin' good, i'll bet," he mused, "ginger loves a good story."

"it was a good story," you said, reveled in the way his expression softened, giving you the courage to press on. he began to tie a double knot. "'bout how you're tellin' your mom we went on a date."

he pulled the bow tight, looked up a you for a second, a guilty, childish grin on his face, caught red-handed. you extended a hand to him, helped him back to his feet.

"oh, yeah," he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall, easy, comfortable. "like how you asked me to dinner, and then cooked for me, and how it 100% was a date-"

you laughed, shook your head. "it was not!" you said, "i never said it was a date!"

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "call it wishful thinking, then, sugar."

and you couldn't focus too much on what he meant by that, so you just shook your head again. "you're too much," you said, wanting it to come out teasing, but instead there was a breathy sort of desperation behind it.

"yeah?" he asked, that smirk present as ever. you had grown so close to him without realizing it, now just a step away. him leaning back against the wall, you right in front of him, looking up at him.

you nodded, swallowed, your blood hot, your skin prickly, alive.

his eyes fixed you in place, teasing. "too much for you, sugar? can't take it?"

you bit your lip to stop any sound from escaping you, because everything seemed entirely too loud, then. you could hear your heartbeat, you swore you could hear his, the radiator could have been screaming at you. you didn't dare think about just how much you wanted to take.

to stop yourself from doing something much more serious, you simply reached your hand forward, swiped at a spot of paint on his face with your thumb.

your touch against his brow bone felt like an exhale, like melting wax. you could feel his warm breath on your hand as you pulled it back, but then he was looking at you, like that, like you were so, so special, like he would have doused his face in paint just to have your hands wipe it all away, and were you imagining the way his gaze grew fiery?

"trev! old man peters says his sink's still leaking!"

griff's voice rattled down the stairwell, smothering the flames in your eyes, if only just. just enough to break the spell, to pull away, to tell him you'd see him tomorrow for his coffee break, for his hungry gaze to follow you up the stairs until you were out of sight.

and so the routine continued, more butterscotch candies slipped into aprons, more pestering his friends, more slyly asking bridget what she thought about matt (she was deflecting, you'd observed, delighted). more helping with homework and reading in bed and cooking and snapping at old man peters to stop leaving his watch behind.

more stolen touches and longing glances and sideways smiles, backwards hats and work gloves stuffed in pockets, damp hair sticking to your neck, the hem of your skirt brushing against your thigh. more flame and softness and sweetness drenching your frame as he said hello, and goodbye, and sweet dreams, and anything else. that coil inside of you twisted tighter and tighter as you wondered what exactly was holding you back, what exactly you were waiting for.

one day, after work, there was a knock at your door. you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little bit disappointed when you opened it.

"you coming?" griff said, "town hall meeting starts in 5."

you scrunched up your nose. "town hall? what, is it required?"

he smiled, kind. "no, but they're usually a good time," he said, "and trevor's going to be there."

you had your jacket in your hand already. "he's not the reason i'm coming," you said, following him out the door and down the street.

"i won't tell anyone," was all griff replied, his smile understanding and gentle.

you had never been to a town hall meeting before. you'd guessed that the closest thing you could imagine was a student government meeting, which you'd been a part of in college.

this seemed much more laid back, though, taking place in the middle school gymnasium. it looked like almost everyone from town was here. you noticed old man peters, sitting with bridget, her daughter buzzing around from person to person. the salon ladies were talking to pretty much everybody. there was harry, sitting next to his mom. you approached bridget as griff went up to talk to the fire chief, one of his close friends.

soon enough, the meeting began, the first issue on the docket being the prospect of a stoplight on the intersection of drysdale avenue and york street.

bridget yawned, "same issue every meeting," she whispered to you. "always divided down the middle." this time was no different, you observed, the parents in the crowd seemed completely for the stoplight, the older crowd significantly against.

"next issue, a write in from the community, quote," the representative began, reading from notecards, "should the implementation of the 'dibs' rule be observed seriously, unquote." he cleared his throat, looked up to the crowd. "thoughts?"

you stifled an embarrassed laugh, held your face in your hands as bridget rubbed soothing circles in your back. "is this actually a real-life discussion topic?" you asked, incredulous.

"just let them have their fun," she whispered in a way that made her smile evident.

"i think 'dibs' is outdated and juvenile," a woman said, "sets a bad example for the kids."

the man up front was taking notes.

"i think it's cute," bridget piped up from her chair.

"me, too!" her daughter giggled, jumping into her lap.

"alright, i've got two for cute, one for bad influence," the man said, "anyone else?"

"i think it's lame," a very matt-like voice said, gruff, short.

"one for lame," the scribe said aloud.

"well, i think you're lame," that goofy drawl called out, making you pull your head up, look around until you spotted him, near the front. he was swatting matt on the back of the head. "and i learned it from alex, so take it up with him."

his curly-haired friend hid a smirk. "it's a high school move," he explained to the crowd, before turning to face trevor. "we haven't done it in years."

"until now," trevor amended, "but you guys understand. you've seen her. you've talked to her."

ginger put her hand over her heart as if swooning.

someone coughed. your face was burning up. bridget nudged you gently.

"she's here, trev," griff said, to which the fire chief let out a hearty laugh.

"really?" he turned to face the crowd, his voice excited, hopeful, searching. "where are you, sugar?"

you raised your hand, of all things, immediately wanted to smack yourself. "hey," you said, mousy.

"hey," he parroted, mocking, but of course not maliciously. his smile broke you apart.

and then you were having a conversation with several rows of people in chairs between you, on a gymnasium floor.

"you're the only one with the dibs curse on you," he said, "so what's your take on it? should we abolish the practice for good? is it outdated?"

you swallowed, were looking only at him as the scribe sat at the front, pen at the ready. "well," you began, "it works, from what i can tell." his smile put you together again. "so it can't be that outdated."

his eyes shone, only for you. "you heard her," he said, "case closed."

"are we actually still talking about this?" old man peters asked, to bridget, but much too loudly.

the rest of the meeting passed, absolutely delivering on laughs and nonsense, as promised.

"last thing before we go," the man said, "does everyone have a ride to the away game tomorrow?"

you leaned over to bridget. "what's that?"

"the rec hockey team is away this weekend," she whispered.

"rec hockey?" you said, confused, "like kids?"

she shook her head. "like kids, yes, but not kids."

"sugar, do you have a ride?" trevor's voice rang clear against the mumbled chatter of the room.

you looked up, met his eyes again. "uh, i don't think i'm going?" you said.

there was a collective gasp, followed by silence. your eyes widened. "babe," bridget whisper-screamed at you. "everyone goes."

you cleared your throat, realizing your grave error. "well, then i don't have a ride."

"you can ride with me, honey," ginger said, sweetly, with a warning in her eye.

"trevor has to go super early since he's playing," bridget whispered from next to you. you nodded, signaling that you had heard her.

"thank you!" you called out.

rides were sorted, the meeting ended, everyone saying their goodbyes, folding chairs scraping against the waxy floor. trevor and his friends caught up with you and bridget on your way out.

trevor slung a heavy arm around your shoulders that you couldn't help but lean into. he smelled like sawdust and something citrusy. "i didn't know you played hockey," you said, looking up at him curiously, not letting yourself ruminate on how good he felt slotted against your side.

he shrugged.

bridget scoffed. "he's good, too," she said, "i hate to pump his tires, but only the best teacher for my baby girl." she pressed a kiss to the cheek of her smiley daughter, whom she had hoisted up onto her hip. "all of them play," she said, a vague gesture to the group. "lit it up in high school."

"not all of them are as good, though," trevor said, which caused some annoyed groans.

"what about heartbreaker alex, over here?" you teased.

"heartbreaker alex has grown up since junior year," alex said, soft spoken. "and it's not my fault my hair looks like this."

the shortest friend of the group, cole, the one with the loudest laugh, whom you had come to rely upon for book recommendations, put a hand in line with his brow bone, as if blocking out the sun to search for something.

"what are you doing?" alex asked.

"oh, me?" cole said, "just looking for all the girls you must be getting, since you've still got all that hair."

alex rolled his eyes, the group laughed.

"what about you, matt?" you asked as trevor held open the door, all of you stepping out into the night air. "i've heard the team's got a perfect record for dance invites. any high school stories?"

matt didn't say anything for a second, but bridget laughed. "you're really telling people that, trev, as if i didn't ask him freshman year?" she nodded towards matt, who was actually blushing, you thought, but the dark made it hard to tell. "was a tough sell, eh? he was so quiet when i asked i thought he pretending that i wasn't there."

"oh, we remember," cole said, tone alight with understanding. "funny how we grow up, but so much stays the sa-" he blew out a breath when matt elbowed him in the gut.

you smiled to yourself. "i'll see all of you tomorrow, for the game, then?" you said, the inn now steps away.

goodbyes rang out, and you made to remove yourself from trevor's embrace, but he only spun you back into his chest, pulling you close, his arms now wrapped around your back, your nose against his breastbone. you breathed in, melted into him, squeezed him back.

"did you mean it?" he said, soft, so only you would hear him.

you mumbled your confusion into his chest.

"when you said it was working? did you mean it?"

your heart jumped, his words so vulnerable you couldn't look at him. "i meant it," you whispered into his bright shirt. "you're working on me, trevor." you felt his lips brush against your hair, featherlight, before he let you go.

"sweet dreams, sugar," he said, and you walked back to your room with wobbly legs and an overactive heart.

the following day, ginger graciously gave you a ride to the next town over. she, of course, chatted you up the entire time, which you welcomed.

"i know i must be super late to the party here," you said, carefully, picking at your nails, "but what's the story behind bridget and matt?"

ginger tsked. "we're a bad influence on you, honey," she said, taking a right. "you're gonna be a big mouth like me in no time."

you laughed. "it's only 'cause matt's so obvious about it," you told her, "they've known each other forever, and i learned yesterday that she asked him to their freshman dance." you trailed off, hoping that ginger would take your cue.

she nodded, smiled fondly. "our bridget was always such a spitfire," she said, "always going for what she wanted. smart as a whip, too, but you know that."

you nodded. you did.

"and she could have had anyone, but she wanted our matthew, and he wasn't a sight for sore eyes then, like he is now."

is matt good-looking? you'd thought to yourself. you surely hadn't noticed. perhaps you were distracted. perhaps your gaze always wandered.

"but bridget marched right up, asked him to the dance, and the poor boy was so stunned it took him a full minute to say yes." she shook her head, lost in the memory.

"did they ever date, like for real?" you asked, enraptured.

she frowned. "no, i don't think so, at least. bridget was always bouncing around flings, trying out guys for a few weeks, then cuttin' 'em loose." her smile grew wistful. "then she had her darling girl, middle of senior year. dad booked it, never looked back. don't think she's been with anyone since."

you frowned, too, hating the thought of someone abandoning your friend, as lovely and wonderful as she was. what a privilege it would be to be a part of her family.

"and matt?" you asked, as the car pulled into the parking lot. you ran your palms up and down your jeans.

ginger whistled. "that boy's been starry-eyed over her since grade five," she said, "but me and the girls aren't surprised he thinks he doesn't have a shot. his self-esteem's never been the highest, not like the rest of 'em."

"not like cole, who swears he could land a plane, if it came around to it?" you said, grinning.

ginger laughed. "exactly. and not like alex, who was never without a girlfriend, and not like your trevor, who's never needed anyone to tell him how great he is."

you sucked on your teeth. "but we do, anyways," you reminded her.

"that we do, honey," she finished, putting the car in park. "let's go cheer on those knuckleheads, shall we?"

the rink was colder than you thought it would be. the walls were practically made of aluminum foil. you wrapped your arms around yourself, blew out a foggy breath, followed ginger to the away section, absolutely packed with everyone you recognized.

as you settled into the stands, your eyes immediately searched for trevor.

"he's number 11," bridget said, coming to stand next to you.

you rolled your eyes. "and what number is matt?"

she shoved you, playfully, but when spoke, it was bashful. "12," she said. "cole's 22 and alex is 39. police chief is 8, fireman spence is the goalie, and griff is the ref."

you furrowed your brow. "isn't that a conflict of interest?" you asked.

she huffed in a laugh. "if anything, it's a disadvantage for us."

the game started, and you realized very early on that maybe trevor hadn't been lying when he said not all of them are as good. he practically flew around the ice, graceful, mesmerizing. and it was obvious that he wasn't looking to show off, either, that he was just playing to have fun, and if he really wanted to, he could run the scoresheet up into oblivion.

you could feel bridget smile beside you. "yeah," she sighed. "it's pretty crazy."

"he could play professionally," you breathed.

she shrugged. "he's happy," she said simply.

cole scored twice, the other team clawed their way back in. griff threw alex in the box for boarding, which old man peters, even with his granddaughter in his lap, would not let go, keeping a one-man ref, you suck! chant going long after the power play was over.

"does he know it's griff?" you asked bridget.

"of course he does," she said. "he'll buy him a beer after this."

such was small town life, you supposed.

in the end, fireman spence made some crucial saves, keeping it tied late into the third. with about a minute left, trevor made an unreal, practically magical pass to matt, who finished it off in a one-timer that sunk into the back of the net.

the crowd erupted. you and bridget jumped up and down, holding each other as the goal horn sounded.

the team went through the line in celebration, then skating by the away section before the next face off.

trevor blew you a kiss. you shook your head at him, but couldn't wipe the smile off of your face.

the game ended in a win, and the town migrated over to the local bar. you busied yourself with harry's mom, telling her that no, she had nothing to worry about, yes, harry was quiet, but he was kind as anything, and that was most important.

everyone cheered when the team walked in. you clapped along with them, feeling a smile tug at your lips as soon as your eyes locked on trevor.

his eyes found yours immediately, that lazy grin following as he squeezed past people to get to you.

you met him halfway, a hazy neon light over your heads, making color dance in his eyes like starlight. his long hair was damp, curly at the ends in a way that made you want to reach up and tug at them.

"speechless, eh, sug?" he teased, shrugging one shoulder with exaggerated arrogance. "i know, my play tends to evoke that reaction from people. i-"

you scrunched your mouth to the side, smacked him lightly in the chest. "god forbid i try to think of something nice to say to you," you said, smiling. you made to pull you hand back, but his warm, wide palm came up to cover it, holding it against his chest.

you exhaled, looked up at him, unsure.

"what was your favorite part?" he asked, those shining eyes careful. "did you like cole's between-the-legs? or maybe my last assist?" he winked. "always a crowd favorite."

suddenly confidence welled up inside of you, a vault. but we tell him anyways, you had said. that we do.

tell him, the overhead lights whispered.

"when you blew me a kiss," you said, reaching your free hand up to cup his jaw, textured under your touch from his five-o'clock-shadow. "that was my favorite part."

flame crept into his gaze abruptly, suddenly, shockingly. he settled his other hand on your hip, pulled you closer to him, his grip making your breath catch. "was it?" there was a roughness to his voice that felt tangible.

you nodded slowly, speaking to his mouth. you weren't scared. you weren't running. you weren't stalling. your skin was humming, your blood felt hot. he was so perfect against you, his hand over yours somehow the most intimate touch you could remember.

he ducked his head to yours, just a breath away, so you could see the gold in his eyes. "let me do you one better," he rasped, waiting for your single nod before finally crushing his mouth to yours in a kiss that felt like early sunrises, slow and meaningful and only the beginning.

you pushed up onto your tiptoes, looped both of your arms around his neck, tugging him closer, closer, as he kept one hand on your hip, the other grasping the back of your neck, keeping you from collapsing into him.

kissing your ex had felt almost robotic, scientific, stiff in an endearing way at best, stiff in an awkward way in reality.

there was nothing stiff about this, nothing scientific about him. this was all feeling, all malleable, all calloused hands and chapped lips. he kissed like someone who had to work for it, like someone who didn't have to prove anything to you but wanted to, anyways.

just that was enough for you to sigh against him, the fact that there were other people around the only thing stifling your soft moan.

he smiled into your mouth, like a low-spoken secret between the two of you. "taste like butterscotch," he mumbled against your lips, pulling away only just enough to make sure his words didn't disappear unheard down your throat, almost drowsily. "you like those candies i give you, sugar?"

your chest rose and fell against his. the low music in the background roared in your ears, the neon light making him look like some stained glass thing worth kneeling for. "like 'em because you leave 'em for me," you said, your fingertips tracing the top of his spine.

his eyes shimmered. "can i tell you something?"

you nodded.

he hummed, gave a guilty sort of smile. "gave 'em to you because i didn't like the taste of 'em," he started, smirk growing wider. "and i wanted to convince myself to hold off on kissin' you. not to rush you, you know."

you understood, and your swollen lips quirked at the story, but your eyes flashed with something like hurt. "you don't like the way i taste, trevor?" even if it was his own doing, you suddenly wanted to brush your teeth.

"that's the thing." he ran a steady thumb along your hairline. "think my plan backfired, 'cause butterscotch's my new favorite flavor." his thumb reached your chin, tilting it up to his mouth again. "can't get enough of it," he murmured, a man possessed, barely audible as he kissed you again, this time with a softness that cut like a dagger.

you swore your head was still spinning the next day. what was supposed to be just another shift at the diner quickly turned into a flurry of questions, of neighbors looking for a side of gossip with their french toast, of line cooks swearing there was something different about you.

it was hard to answer anyone, to do anything, honestly, when it felt like you were floating, like your head was far, far away, up in the clouds.

harry gave you a fist bump when he saw you. old man peters told you in a stern tone that public bars were no place for fornication, to which an ecstatic bridget patted his shoulder and reminded him that it was only a (sort of) innocent kiss.

she pulled all the details out of you, lit up as you flushed and stumbled over your memories.

the police chief made some joke about that boy being a bad influence when you accidentally brought him whole milk instead of soy milk for his coffee.

ginger and the girls were like some insatiable beast that only let you be when you reminded them that if they kept you much longer, the diner would go hungry.

of course, your heart instinctively fluttered when that tell-tale gust of loud laughter burst through the door, along with the drag of heavy work boots, the shuffling of canvas outerwear, the shoving of gloves into back pockets.

you made your way to the table with their regular pot of coffee, met trevor's dancing gaze almost sheepishly.

"morning, guys," you said, smiling at all of them.

they chimed their chorus of good mornings, pouring their coffee into mugs themselves, as they always insisted on.

"so, what's new?" cole asked, his head resting on his fists. "probably nothing, right?"

alex and matt hid their laughs.

you rolled your eyes, smiled nonetheless. trevor had a hat on, today, making his hair curl out from the bottom of the brim. you tucked a curling lock behind his ear, ran your nails soothingly along the hair at the nape of his neck.

anyone watching would have seen the way his gaze melted like milk chocolate, how his shoulders softened, his posture relaxing completely into your small touch.

he looked up at you, eyes so soaked in affection it spilled down his face like mascara-stained tears. "i missed you," he said.

his friends groaned, as if they'd heard this a million times. suddenly, with a blush, you had a guess as to what his morning had been like. perhaps he had been just as distracted as you.

"i missed you, too," you said, because it was the truth.

"he almost dropped a crate on my foot this morning," matt said, bitterly.

you put a hand over your heart. "how tragic." you looked up, making eye contact with your friend across the diner. "hey, bridge! matt almost hurt his foot this morning. has science found a cure for that, yet?"

she huffed a laugh as she approached, shook her head at matt when she stood in front of the table. she held the back of her hand to his forehead, as if checking for a fever. "are you sure you're okay, sweet boy? this sounds serious," she joked.

matt had paled. trevor pulled you into his lap and you hid your laugh in his collarbone.

"'m fine," matt bit out, to which bridget smiled.

"thank god, that was close," she said. her gaze wandered, landed on something out the window. she squinted. "did somebody dig up some of the flowers outside?" she asked.

"dig?" alex mused, "maybe rip is a better word, eh, trev?"

"right. almost forgot." trevor held you in his lap with one hand, reached the other to the side. suddenly several flowers were being held in front of you, thin, spidery roots still intact. "sugar, will you go to the valentine's day skate with me?"

you smiled, wide and toothy, touched one hand to his face as the other grasped the humble, earthy bouquet. "of course i will, handsome," you said, "what's the valentine's day skate?"

"pta event, tomorrow," bridget said, looking on with interest. "whole town shows up."

"this town shows up for everything," you replied.

she smiled fondly. "heart-shaped balloons and fruit punch and ice skates. what's not to love?"

you turned your neck to look back up at trevor. "'m honored to have been on the receiving end of one of your famous invitations," you teased, "even if it's not for a dance." his delight rumbled into your shoulders, the back of your thighs, firm and warm.

cole yawned, stretched. "duty calls, fellas," he said, making to get up.

you reluctantly pushed up from trevor's lap, quickly pouring his untouched mug into a to-go cup. the team filed out with their typical string of thank yous and goodbyes, matt's extra glance at bridget met with a returning smile.

then it was you and trevor, as the morning break always ended, like clockwork, like a bedtime story that was comforting in its predictability. he tucked a bill in your apron, several candies, the weight of them alone making you smile.

"did i tell you how pretty you look today?" he told you.

"no," you mused, your hands clasped behind your back, shifting on your feet.

he hummed. "so pretty, sugar, never been so nervous to ask someone out," he admitted, that smug smile lazy across his face.

you tilted your head. "don't be nervous," you told him. "you're the easiest yes i've ever had."

at your words he ducked his wide shoulders down to you, flipped his hat backwards on his head so as not to impede you in any way, kissed you with a rough palm on your soft face, your hands still behind your back as you met him up on your toes.

a different kiss, one so lovely, still, soft and beautiful, drenched in daylight.

would your head ever stop spinning, when it came to him? would you ever come down from the clouds, again? even if you did, would there not be cumulus tufts in your hair, wisps of cirrus in your lashes?

he was proving it difficult, especially that next day, the fourteenth of february.

you had the morning to yourself, existing slowly and methodically, reading and running errands, finally starting to get ready for your date in the late afternoon.

before you knew it, there was a knock at your door, just as you had swung your jacket on. you swung it open to find him leaning against the doorframe, the picture of ease, shoulders drooping the way they always did after a working morning.

"ready to go?" you asked, making to close the door behind you before pressing up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. he caught your face in a hand before you could, though, steering your lips towards his mouth instead. you laughed against his lips. "greedy," you taunted, pulling away, letting yourself lean into his warm side.

"got no idea, sugar," he admitted, voice twinged with a day of speaking. you walked together to the high school ice skating rink, only a few minutes away, the brisk february air biting at your nose, your ears. you caught up on the morning, what book you had finished, how annoying ginger's husband was being about the state of his rain gutters.

when you entered the rink, finally, pushing forward the old doors, you couldn't help but smile, and trevor couldn't help but watch you.

everyone was here, of course they were. balloons hung from the top of the glass, streamers decorating every archway and spare inch. a massive table of themed refreshments was just next to the bleachers.

it looked like something out a ninety's film, mixed with the unique small town charm and wintery love you had come to know so personally.

you and trevor quickly got your skates on, all lingering touches and knowing smiles, and headed for the ice.

you were shaky at first, but his hands were so tight on yours, you knew there wasn't a chance he would let you fall. he spun you around the rink easily, twirling you like a ballroom dance floor, ever the show-off, anything to make you laugh.

"hey, harry!" you called out, at one point, noticing your host-friend helping a taller, skinner kid his age onto the ice. he waved, his eyes glittery in a way you recognized. is that jason? you mouthed. harry nodded, smiled shyly. you gave him an impressed thumbs up, trevor whistled.

you asked trevor how he got into hockey, watched how his mind waltzed behind his eyes when he talked about outdoor rinks with his friends in elementary school, how even piled-on scarves and hats and puffer jackets didn't stop that flying feeling.

significance would gather in your stomach, butterflies morphing into something much more serious, the kind of flame you'd find in a living room fireplace, in the hearts of teenage lovers.

you skated by cole, scooping up the snow he had made with quick starts and stops, and alex, whose neck was becoming the new home of said snow.

alex grunted, immediately breaking into stride to catch a fleeing cole, whose bright and clear laugh echoed under the roof like church bells.

the fire and police departments had started a relay race, ginger and her girls had formed a circle close to the hot chocolate.

old man peters held his sleeping granddaughter in his lap, bouncing his knee gently, both of their smiles blissful.

trevor's hand found your far hip, pulling you into his warm side. you sighed, looked up at him as you let your fingers trace along his jaw.

"touchy today, sugar, hm?" he said into your hair, a rumble to his tone that told you he liked it.

you hummed, nodded. "you just look so..." you trailed off, in thought, thinking about what, exactly, you meant to say. he looked what? practically edible? like an ocean you wanted to drown in?

how could you tell him you'd been avoiding looking at his hands, for fear you'd blurt something out about wanting them around your neck?

you just swallowed, cleared your throat. his smirk was a flash of teeth.

"you feelin' okay?" he cooed. "should i take you home?"

you found yourself nodding, even though you hadn't been at the rink for long.

"yeah?" he mocked, taunting, his hand on your hip suddenly firm, burning.

bridget's laugh cut through the sizzling air like a stream of cold hose water. you both turned to look at where she now sat, having obviously fallen onto the ice. she peered up at matt through her blonde bangs. "some teacher you are," she laughed, "i knew trev was the right choice for my girl's lessons."

matt shook his head, a barely-there smile on his thin lips. he offered her a hand, steadily helped her to her feet, an almost undetectable shake in his breathing as bridget grabbed onto his forearm for extra stability. "alright, smart ass," he mused, "no help for you, then."

he made to drop her hands, to leave her on her own, but she latched onto him tighter. "yeah right," she said, "you're not going anywhere, sweet boy."

cole's laugh sparkled at matt's flush.

you and trevor were already on the way out, bidding your short goodbyes, half-assed excuses about not feeling well given and taken with knowing eye-rolls.

he walked you back to the inn, up the stairs, his hands on you ever-so-distracting, his voice a careless rasp, your heart beating heavy in your chest.

you finally made it to your closed door, your back against it as he looked down at you with that heated gaze, his frame boxing you in.

"well, get some rest, sugar," he said, slowly, smiling. "since you're not feeling well." he twirled a strand of your hair around a finger.

you sputtered. "what? trevor-"

his eyes widened in mock-surprise. "oh, is there something you want?" he asked.

you clutched at his shirt with your fist, pulled. "please."

"please, what, sugar?" he asked, so smug you wanted to punch him. "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"

"you," you whined, but that wasn't enough.

"oh, is that it?" he drawled, ducking his head down to you, so close, but not close enough, not even a little.

you worked your jaw, so frustrated. "just," you tried, "just please, touch me, trevor, i just wanna feel you."

he smiled, held the side of your face in his palm. "am touchin' you, sugar," he said, "tellin' me this isn't enough?"

you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, groaned at his feigned confusion. "shut up," you breathed, his mouth an inch from yours.

"make me," he bit back, and then you were kissing him. you swore your lips would be charred, later, as if in proof. you reached a hand behind you, twisted open your door, while the other rooted in his hair, tugged him inside your room as he moaned against your lips.

one of his hands grasped the back of your neck, the other a bruising grip in your side, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees felt the blunt edge of the bed.

you barely registered as he reached under you, flipped you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he sat down on the comforter, far too caught up in this kiss, somehow still so different from ones you has shared before. so charged you felt the air might combust at any second, that, despite his relentless repairs, there was no way this inn could withstand the way he was kissing you, now. surely, the roof would cave in under the weight of your want, water would sear straight through the pressurized pipes.

he smiled against your mouth when you started to rock your hips back and forth across his lap, just so desperate for something, anything.

your exhales came out short, little pants as you reveled in the little friction you were getting against his firm thigh, covered in his heavy work pants, nothing close to what you really wanted, but something, at least.

mercifully, he moved your clothes aside, rocked you more forcefully, making the sensation practically blissful. you dropped your heavy head to his neck, moaned into it.

"oh, sugar," he cooed, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "so greedy for it, hm?"

you nodded into his neck, the tough texture combined with the heavy weight of his thigh catching you in just the right spot, urging a whimper from your throat.

"makin' a mess of me, yeah? could cum just from my thigh?" he said, almost like he felt sorry for you, but you could hear the smile in his voice. you bit down gently on the space between his neck and shoulder, your small retaliation, smiled at his groan.

you slowed your rhythm, picked your head up, let your chest rise and fall as you looked at him in the face, searched his eyes.

his face was slightly flushed, his eyes only just a bit glassy, but he looked at you like you were a wonder, like some divine power had made her way into his lap.

you pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth, loved the way you could feel his smile crinkle and widen under your lips.

"please, trevor," you whispered, your touch so soft around his neck. "please just give me what i want."

you shifted on his lap until you felt him, hard and hot and heavy underneath you. his voice came out with a strain. "anything, sugar," he told you, "just tell me."

you lifted your hips up, could feel how wet you were, could tell you had probably left a trace of yourself on his pants. "wanna cum on your cock, trevor," you breathed, couldn't help your sly grin when he immediately began to tug his clothes aside. "please, please let me. i know i'm so greedy-"

he was nodding like he understood as he angled your hips up higher, shifted you so that you sat right above him as he pumped himself up and down, once, twice, so obviously ready for you. "you are, sugar," he said, so eager it almost sounded like a whine, "but i'll give you anything you want, swear it." his hands found your hips. "just promise you'll only be greedy for me, hm?"

you sank down onto him with a nodded promise, bit your lip at the slow, scorching pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulled at your middle, that you felt in your toes. you blinked, trying to get used to the sensation, trying to muffle the groan in your mouth.

"fuck," he moaned, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like you might float away if he let go, "all the way, sugar, 'atta girl." you huffed a short breath when he was all the way in.

words felt far away, suspended in bubbles that whirled around your head.

"speechless, eh?" he teased, and you had a sense of deja vu. "don't worry, sugar. common re-"

and you could have growled at him for alluding to the fact that other girls had felt this, that there were other people in the world who knew what this felt like, so you fitted a delicate hand over his mouth and rolled your hips up and back on him until he was the speechless one, moans falling from his mouth, his brow pinched in pleasure.

"don't worry," you breathed, your mouth an inch from his ear. "common reaction."

you began to move your hips up and down faster as the stretch gave way to something dizzyingly good, as he began to thrust back up into you. so hard and fast, but he held you like something precious. his rhythm built until your mouth fell open, until sweat shone on the high points of his face, until time melted away, until you were reminded of what you'd mistaken him for when you'd first seen him, all that time ago - some ancient sculpture. a work of art.

he cursed as your clit caught on his pubic bone, the friction so overwhelming, and you clenched down on him. "give it to me, sugar," he said, but the strain in his voice made it sound like a plea. "fuck, let me hear you, yeah?" his tone grew gentle. "been wantin' to hear you for so long."

you tightened around him further at his small admission, let your nails rake down his neck, probably a little too hard. he grunted, thrusted harder, shifted you closer to him.

you moaned his name at the new angle, one you felt in the tips of your ears, your hairline, your tongue.

you were so close, so impossibly almost there. "please make me cum," you whined, "please, need you so bad." your exhale was practically pained as you ran your fingers over the red marks on his neck your nails had left. "don't i deserve it, baby?"

he grunted, and it was different. you felt his stomach and thighs clench, his hips sputter as his head spun with the fact that you'd gone right to begging him, skipped the asking part. he pressed his hand to your lower stomach, let his thumb catch against your clit, sending you over the edge in moments. "'course you deserve it, sugar," he rasped, gravelly, in your ear as you rode out your high, his thrusts growing wild. "been so good."

you clenched down on him, forcing his own orgasm, fast and all-consuming, the smell of him everywhere, mixed with your perfume. your exhales were warm and heavy, transparent clouds that settled on the floor of your room, making it every bit the dreamland it had become in your mind.

he held you so close to him as he pulled you to his chest, leaned you both back on your bed. you stared up at the ceiling.

about time, one of the tiles whispered, holding a crisp fiver.

couldn't have waited another week? the losing tile muttered bitterly.

you smiled as his rough hand found your face, tilted it towards him. he was smiling. your stomach fluttered as you felt your own mouth pull wider.

"what?" he asked, his voice rough, drowsy with use.

you shook your head. "nothing," you said, "just you." your eyes crinkled under the weight of your happiness. "i'm callin' dibs on you."

his eyes lit up as he pulled you in for another kiss, slow and overflowing with meaning. he hummed. "butterscotch," he whispered against your mouth. "my favorite."

fin.

586 notes · View notes

f4nrir · 11 months

Note

hi!! miguel o'hara x male reader where one of you cums in the other and makes the other go to work right after so cum is leaking out during their shift/duty

do with this what you will i trust you (it can be short) :D

control

一 pairing; miguel o'hara x male reader

cw: unprotected anal, toys, slight humiliation, bottom!miguel.

word count: 964

“there you go, baby,” you cooed in his ear as you came inside of him, finally getting your fix after a few rounds.

miguel groaned in response as he shifted his position and you watched your cum leak out of him as he moved. you grabbed his hips and he landed back on the bed with a huff, accepting that you had your way with him. looking over at the drawer where you kept your toys, you took out the plug that has yet to be used.

“this should keep that from spilling out, hm? i’m sure you’ll like it,” you snickered and pushed miguel’s legs apart as you sat between them, positioning it in the right place.

you pushed it into his hole and miguel hissed at the temperature, especially since it had been left untouched in your drawer. once it was in, you helped him put his pants back up and make him look presentable for work.

“do i keep this in the whole day?” he asked as he sat down on the bed again, a small moan escaping his lips as he felt it bury back inside him.

you nodded and placed a kiss on his forehead, distracting him as your hand trailed down to his bulge. gently palming him, miguel whined as you touched him and you quickly withdrew your hand from his body.

“i just like teasing you. can’t wait to see you later at work, don’t be too obvious,” you said with a teasing tone as you left to make your way to the headquarters.

with every move miguel made, he couldn’t stop the plug from burying deeper inside of him. some movements caused it to almost slip out but most made it's way back into him. this was a reminder of what you have done to him, he loved being marked by you and the feeling of your cum leaking out of him made it more exciting. the stickiness and the warmth, along with the limited movement was torturous but he enjoyed it so much.

as he made his way to his office, he did his best to avoid his colleagues so that they wouldn’t question why he was acting in a peculiar way. however, that plan didn’t last long as peter called out for him along with you trailing close behind.

“miguel! hey, look at this!” he exclaimed as he caught up with him, showing him pictures of what you can assume, of mayday on his phone. you chuckled as you watched miguel twitch and unable to keep his composure, enjoying the scene that unfolded in front of you.

“hey guys, what’s going on here?” you innocently asked and shot miguel a look, only earning an eye roll from the other. peter patted your back as he shifted his phone so that you could see the pictures of his daughter and you smiled, admiring his enthusiasm as he spoke about her. miguel cleared his throat and both of your attention turned to him.

“you alright, man? you look constipated…” peter piped up as he put his phone away and miguel glared at you, his eyes signaling you to make your way to his office.

“yeah, i’m fine. just got a lot on my mind,” he softly spoke and peter nodded, knowing what it meant.

“okay pal, go work on your prototype. i’m sure your boyfriend has got some ideas too” he pointed at you as you made your way to his office. miguel’s breathing changed and peter looked at him confusingly, wondering if he had said something wrong. realizing that’s not what he meant, he mumbled an “i’m sorry” before quickly following you.

miguel quickly shut his door and found you leaning against his desk with your arms crossed, a smirk plastered across your face.

“please, i can’t focus with this inside of me,” he whined as he sat down on his chair, wincing at the feeling of the plug shifting inside of him.

“that’s too bad, huh?” you said as you sat down beside him, turning your attention to the blueprints in front of you.

“sir, pl–” miguel was interrupted by a knock on the door and you answered for him, saying “come in!” out loud. he balled up his fist and both of you turned around to be met by jessica along with ben. they were discussing the plans they had in mind, along with asking how the prototype was going. you let miguel do all the talking and pulled out your phone to act busy as if you had just gotten an email.

“so after that i– ah…” he covered his mouth as he felt vibrations from the plug and he looked back at you, his blood-red eyes showing anger and embarrassment.

“you okay?” you asked as you gently rubbed his back, increasing the setting on your phone. jessica and ben titled their heads in concern, oblivious to the sound of buzzing.

“sorry guys, just having a bad headache,” he murmured and turned around to face them both once again. after a few minutes had gone by, they left and miguel attempted to grab your phone but you stood up and pushed him down onto his knees.

“you’re going to do as i say, got it?” you ordered and he looked up at you, his cheeks flushed from the sensation he was getting along with the shame you were putting him through.

“yes, sir.” he complied and you helped him up, giving his ass a good grope and he moaned at the touch.

“now go. i forgot to tell you that you have a meeting…” you grinned and miguel sighed in defeat, struggling to keep his composure. it was going to be a long day and this was just the beginning of it.

#— zeppelin’s files 📁#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x m!reader #mlm smut #male reader smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse

1K notes · View notes

pupcuck · 5 months

Text

JINGLE BALLS !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, leon is creepy ngl, dub-con at first then consensual, daddy issues, you get compared to your mom lots, creampie, daddy kink

note. HAII sorry for this being late omg :3 umm this is weird and jolty and the plot im not totally happy with but :333 ignore typos or I will cry!! feedback and reblogs always so appreciated :3

tumblr removes fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that these fics contain dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“Pumpkin!” Your dad’s embrace is stiff per usual. This guy - he seriously needs a lesson in intimacy. Can’t go hugging your daughter the same way you do a girlfriend. Dads shouldn’t put their hands below your midriff. They certainly shouldn’t grip your hips and pull you close with such fervour, now you’re tit to tit with the man who gifted you your pornstar rack. And it’s a bit awkward to say the very least.

“Hi, dad.” He backs off, skittish when he hears your tone of voice. Flat and clipped.

“Sweetpea, I’m so glad you’re here,” Leon starts, he’s laying it on super thick, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun.” Oh, you’re exhausted already.

“Mhm.” You nod in disinterest as you toe off your shoes, place them beside his mud-caked boots. Leon is your dad. Your dad is just a guy to you. One that’s around never, you see him seldom and from afar. He’s not exactly awful, but he’s nothing great. A little touchy if anything, and enthusiastic in a way that comes across as disingenuous.

The only thing you really know about Leon is that he’s your dad, he works with the government, and he’s still hung up on your mom. You can tell from a mile away. Looks at her like she crafted the earth itself, mapped out the stars, plucked them from the sky to make him a new moon. Totally whipped for a woman who forgets he exists until major holidays roll around. And you get it honestly, your mom is pretty, fun, and she’s all you’ve got. So you might take after dad in that sense.

You’ve seen the kinda women he brings home. That time you caught him mid disgusting, nasty, abhorrent sex act that you’ve only seen in porn. Had this poor girl’s head tilted so far back, blonde curls like liquid gold running along her back, brushing the swell of her ass, his arm wrapped around her neck - like, was he trying to fucking kill her? Well, she liked it clearly. That’s beside the point, when you saw her face the following morning, her sheepish smile and the slant of her eyes - you got it. Mom. She looked like mom. You overheard him telling her she was too young for him, a college girl, his daughter’s age - only after he came down her throat though. What a creep.

Then there was his girlfriend from a few years back, this chick who popped her gum too loud, bossed him around and got him to pay for a new set of acrylics weekly. It was uncanny the resemblance between her and mom. What next? You? Is it your turn to be pursued by Leon, by dad? The only thing you’ve got from him is tits, busty like your daddy, pretty like your mommy. And he fucking knows it. You know he does.

Leon places a hand on your lower back. Like, way lower back, the spot a boyfriend would touch when he wants to initiate a quickie. You shiver, glance at him through your peripheral as he guides you to the lounge, the wooden floor is so cold you feel it through the fabric of your winter socks. This dude is loaded and he can’t even get heated floors installed? Not even for lil ol’ you? His daughter? The one that resembles his one true love?

There’s a red box that contains a gingerbread house sitting on the coffee table, you groan inwardly. Here we go with the bonding activities, it’s so forced it makes your skin crawl. His Christmas tree is, well, it’s a tree alright, crudely and hastily decorated with a sparse amount of baubles and god-awful paper crafts you gave to him as a toddler. Aw, the sentiment is there though, kinda cute. You’ll cut dad some slack.

By the time midnight rolls around, you realise cutting dad even the slightest bit of slack was a mistake. “Take that off.” You jab a finger into his stomach, met with sinewy, toughened flesh. Woah, dad’s still got it going on. “It’s ugly, and I’m not twelve, dad.”

“Moving fast.” Leon - your dad, biological, held you as a baby, rocked you to sleep at night - wiggles his eyebrows at you. All while dressed in a Santa suit by the way, ‘cause that is one very important piece of information. He looks fucking ridiculous. It’s the same one he used to pull out when you were a kid, back when you actually gave a shit about him, what he thought about you, whether he even wanted you. ‘Cause if your daddy wanted you, why was he away so often? Told mom to jingle his balls once, an unsavoury recurring memory that you’d like to forget.

“Oh, dad, that’s actually really concerning, like, I’m not gonna lie.” You frown at him so hard the wrinkles that form on your forehead become permanent. “Don’t say that to me.”

“I was messing around.” He defends, “Christ, what is up with you today? Got a stick up your ass or somethin’? Y’know, in my day, kids used to be able to take jokes.” Now he’s pouting like a toddler in a sour mood.

“That was not a joke, dad!” You don’t mean to raise your voice, but it happens and within seconds he’s sat on the couch dejected. This fucking dude. Ugh. He’s pathetic. How did he manage to bag a hottie like your mom?

“I just want you to love me, sweetheart.” Here we go again. Leon sighs hopelessly as he slumps back into the cushions, and you can’t take him seriously when he’s wearing a fucking Santa hat.

“I do love you, dad.” And you do. Honest. Really. Like, pinky promise. You love him out of obligation - he’s your dad, and you’re meant to love your dad. Doesn’t mean you like him though. In your very objective-totally-not-biased view, your dad is just a bit unlikeable. A bit of a strange one.

“Yeah?” He lightens up, “You love me?” God, it’s like he gets off on it. Oh, you’re just being mean now. You scoot closer to him, lean in for an awkward side hug.

“I do, dad. I love you.” You don’t have the courage to look at him. Leon’s arm snakes around your waist, and you know what’s coming. How much do you love me?

“How much do you love me?” Called it. Up until now it’s been a harmless question, but when you face him, gaze flitting from his eyes to his nose to his lips, the general wear and tear of his aged face - it’s different. This time you won’t be able to get away with the regular bout of flattery, wax poetry about how much you love him, how you wouldn’t want anyone else but him to be your daddy. When in reality, you’d swap out Leon for any poor sod. They wouldn’t leave you hanging so damn often.

“A lot, dad.” You turn your head to roll your eyes, getting it out of your system proves worthy, now you can plaster your mommy’s smile onto your face, the one he loves so much. “So much, you know that, don’t you?”

“Just don’t seem like it, pumpkin.” Leon gives you a sideways glance, “I’m trying… I wanna make it up to you, y’know? For how much I was away.”

“Dad, you don’t have to do that. I’m over it.” You’re not. But, you’re good at pretending you are. “I don’t need you to make it up to me.” You do. Oh, you so do. You need it to a devastating degree. “Like, I’m not a kid, I don’t want Santa, and I don’t wanna make fuckin’ gingerbread houses, or watch Home Alone-“

“What, so you’re a big girl now?” He tilts his head to the side, there’s an edge to his voice that’s hard to decipher. Don’t know if it’s good or bad.

“Well, I’m not little anymore, dad.” You gasp when he tries to take a subtle glimpse down your shirt.

“I can see that.” Leon pokes his tongue into the corner of his cheek.

“Yeah, and I saw that!” When you go to stand, his grip becomes almost crushing, wanting to hold you in place so badly. For a moment it’s scary, only for a moment, this is just dad. Just Leon. He’s harmless. As lame as he is, your dad wouldn’t hurt you.

“I didn’t do nothing, baby, c’mere, don’t be like that.” Dad pets your head, and it reminds you of your childhood bedroom. “I’m sorry, alright? I never spent Christmas with just you, and I wanted to make it good for you.”

“I know, dad, and I appreciate it, just don’t need you to get all weird about it. Like, we can just— we can just be normal about it. Don’t have to do all this shit, I just want us to be normal.” Normal, huh? Neither of you can do normal, and you’re fully aware of that. ‘Cause your dad is a freak, and you can’t exactly drain Kennedy blood all that easy. You’ll be your father’s daughter even when he’s dead. “Like, I really, I really can’t deal with this whole Santa thing, did you really expect me to like it? I’m not a baby.”

“I just thought it’d be cute.” Cute? What is cute about a grown man in a Santa costume that’s covered in a thin layer of dust, dug out from the boxes he still hasn’t managed to open ten years after the divorce? “Listen, baby, I’m sorry, alright? I’m real sorry, look at me,” Leon cups your cheek, stares into your eyes with his gentle ones, “Dad’s sorry, yeah? I’m just stupid sometimes.”

“You are,” you nod, “but, I’m sorry too.” No, you’re not. Just saying it so he doesn’t drag this on, so he doesn’t call up your mom and tell her you’re not having a good time. Then your mom will be down your throat, your dad’s missed you, and you missed him too, you should be nicer to him, he tries his best, darling! “You, like, went through all that effort, and I didn’t even say thank you, I just got mad at you— so I’m sorry, dad.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, shifts so he can bring you into his chest, cheek squished against one of his fat tits, god, why’re they so big, you swear it’s bigger than both of yours combined. “It’s alright, I know you’re growing up, and I’m sorry for treating you like a baby, it’s just, it’s hard ‘cause you’re my little girl, y’know?” Not true. You’ve always been a mommy’s girl. Dad is an acquaintance.

“Yes, I know, dad.” You blink at him, he melts, traces your cheekbone with his thumb. Thank god he took that dumbass hat off, you couldn’t take him seriously.

“Gosh, baby, you look just like your mama.”

“I know, dad.”

“Crazy, ain’t it?” Leon kisses your forehead, “Only got these from me, and nothin’ else, huh?” Dad gropes your tits. The man that put a baby in your mother, that baby being you, obviously, the man whose name is on your birth certificate— the man who has given you his name, is groping your tits. “Certainly not from mommy are they?”

You shake your head. In agreement though. ‘Cause you can’t deny it, your mom’s as flat as a board. It feels weird, yes. But not bad. Maybe you’ve detached Leon from the title of ‘dad’ to the point where it doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s wrong, so you go to stop him, but he’s unyielding in his perversion.

“You look like your mommy down here, baby?” Dad asks, he cups your pussy through your jeans with his big hand. “Can daddy see?”

You shake your head again. Slowly. This time a flimsy no, one that teeters on the boundaries of a yes. You do owe him, you’ve been acting like a bitch ever since you arrived in D.C. Making a right fuss the moment you stepped through the door. Poor guy put the rather intricate gingerbread house all together by himself, he’s dressed as fucking Santa, all ‘cause he thought you’d like it. How bad can it be? Not like fucking your dad could land the two of you in jail, right? Well, it could, but that’s not the point.

“No? C’mon, sweet girl, dad just wants to see,” Leon’s plump bottom lip juts out, you kinda sit there for a minute, then lay back on the couch. What have you got to lose? You have no emotional attachment to this man. You do. It’s not weird at all. God, it’s so weird you want to claw your skin off. “That’s a good girl.” He butters you up while he unbuttons your jeans, taps your hips so you lift ‘em up and off they pop, jeans thrown to the ground. “Oh, look at her, baby, how sweet, just like mama,” Leon rests your left leg on his shoulder, holds the ankle of your right one to spread you open. “You think she likes it like mommy did?”

“How did… How did mom like it, dad— daddy?” You correct yourself, feel this horrible churning in your stomach. Both nausea and need flooding your shaky body.

Leon presses his wide nose to the bump of your clit through your tight panties, there’s a wet patch that seems to get bigger and bigger the more he sniffs around down there. He lifts his head, rests it on your thigh as he slides them to the side, sticky, gooey arousal stringing apart, sticking to the seat of your undies like PVA glue when he separates the fabric from your soaked centre. “She liked it real sloppy, baby.” With that, he spits on your drippy cunt, runs his finger through your folds, pinches your clit. “Daddy’s gonna give it to you just how mom liked it, alright?”

“Okay, dad,” you tell him breathlessly, hands clasped together as you try to calm your nerves. The warmth of his breath on your puffy clit is enough to make you shiver, he spreads you open with his index and middle fingers, the tip of his tongue traces along the centrefold of your cunt. Then Leon grows agitated by the way your panties insist on snapping back in place, so he has a little wrestle with them and your limp legs, once they’re off he tucks them into his pocket for safekeeping. Santa’s back pocket.

Sweetly, he kisses your clit, sucks on it like he’s getting to the centre of your cunt, blows a raspberry on it - you’re so wet it’s pooling beneath your ass. Leon spreads your cheeks to lick into your cunt, press his nose into it real nice ‘n deep, smacks his lips against your fat pussy, stubble smeared with your slick. Leaking all over your dad’s pretty face, letting your dad tug your clit between his teeth and fuck his tongue into your tight hole. “Should stop shaving.” Is all dad says once you cream on his face, “Your mama didn’t.” Okay, didn’t need to know that, but here you are, dad’s fat cock hard and heavy against your thigh. So you guess fucking him comes at that expense - finding out all sorts of details about their wild sex life. To be honest, you pegged Leon as the kinda guy who knows what missionary is and missionary only, not that you ever thought about that before. He unbuckles his belt, unthreads the prongs from the holes one by one, and drops his red Santa pants. Good riddance.

“Dad,” you whimper when he sits you up, handles you like a dolly. The tight-fitted Santa coat stretches around his biceps when he scoops you up, puts you on his lap, gosh, you’ve never really noticed those. Maybe that’s what your mom saw in him. Big blue eyes and big tits and big fucking arms. This Santa attire is really fucking you up, it’s hard to take him seriously.

“Your mommy’s real good at riding cock, y’know that, pumpkin?” Leon squeezes your ass, you feel him. All of him. His clothed cock grinding upwards into your bare cunt, a toothy grin stretching his lips as he watches the way your lips squish together. Yeah, fat pussy, so what. Get over it, creep. “Best I ever had she was, best fuckin’ pussy,” he licks up the sweat dripping down your collarbones, “but you’re made for me, ain’t you, baby?”

“Yes, dad.” You don’t know what else to say, breath stuttering when he sits you down on his cock. Thick and fairly long in all the ways a dick should be, you suppose. Look at that, giving a review of your dad’s cock. How far you have come. Fucking degenerate cock critic. It sure does feel good, his tip nestled snug against your cervix, pulsing within the silky walls of your tight cunt. Feel every vein, how his tip leaks pre endlessly, how it twitches when you clench around him.

“Baby, you’re such a big girl now,” Dad kisses you smack-bang in the middle. On your pouty lips. The ones that remind him of your mom, same lips that sucked his cock in the marriage bed, same eyes rolling back into your skull when he begins to rock his hips into you. “Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you? Better than mommy.” Almost, he wants to add. You know he does. He’s so predictable.

There are no words in your brain, only able to let out shaky breaths and the occasional yelp as he takes you, grabs your hips and bounces you up and down on his cock. “Fuck, wait, let me— let me-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead he’s sliding you off and bending you over the couch. “Better like this.” That’s ’cause you look like mom from behind. Same hair, same hips, same perky ass. Leon fucks you harder, his strokes deeper, knocking his cock into your poor cervix with his brutal thrusts. Your nails scratch at the cracked leather of his couch, unable to help the way you moan for him, it’s so embarrassing, even more so when your hips begin to move on their own, fucking yourself back on dad’s dick.

Each thrust is harder than the last, god, is he trying to go through you? Put you in A&E ‘cause his cock got tangled in your intensities? “Is this… Is this how mom likes it, dad?” You manage to get out through a stifled groan, he digs his teeth into your neck, licks a stripe over the tender skin then tugs at your hoop earring with his teeth.

“Your mom likes it even harder, baby,” Leon snickers, “your mama is a dirty bitch.” You gasp, tighten around him involuntarily, your pussy behaves in mysterious ways. “She liked it when I did this,” his hand comes down on your ass hard, you squeal, almost lose footing and fall face-first into the couch cushions. “And when I pulled her hair, and slapped her tits, and spit down her fuckin’ throat.” Your mom is one nasty bitch, good on her. Personally, you’re new to it all. “You want that?”

“I don’t know, dad.” You say helplessly, thighs trembling when he reaches round with his nimble fingers to rub neat circles into your bud, so you come undone around his cock. Coat the shaft in cream, drip slick down his balls. You muffle your moans into a pillow, painted toes curling against the wooden floor, suddenly thankful for his lack of underfloor heating - ‘cause you’re sweating like a pig.

Your body trembles with aftershocks as he continues to fuck you through it, helps his little girl out by kissing the wet nape of her neck, a big hand on her waist to steady her. Sweat prickles your skin, jolting as he gives one last sloppy push into you, hips jerking as he unloads all he’s got to give and you milk him just right. ‘Cause you know, you’re his kid, made for him. That’s why he fits like a glove. Born to get your cunt bred by dad. You think he says your mom’s name into your hair, but you don’t question it, slumping over in exhaustion.

“Dad, can you just do me a favour and take that off, please? I’m really tired and it’s pissing me off.” You curl up on the sofa, uncaring of the seed that drips out and trickles down your plush thighs.. Leather’s easy to clean.

“Why? I like it. Don’t you think it’s cute, sweetpea?” Normalcy or what the two of you consider normal returns.

“No, take it off, or I’m taking the next flight home.”

“Alright, pumpkin.”

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

455 notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 1 year

Text

I’ll love you in the morning

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Being in a relationship with Rafe meant arguments were a regular occurrence, a day didn’t feel normal without one. But the thing with you and Rafe - you never went to bed angry at each other

Warnings: Cursing, jealous rafe, fluffy as heckkkkk

Author’s Note: Been binge watching OBX for the thousandth time so it only felt right to write about it now :) Please send me any requests you might have, there is a masterlist on my page of everything else I have written for before, but am happy to take requests for anything and I’ll see what I can do x Have a lovely day angels <3

Not my gif

You weren’t sure why he was mad at you, but it seemed to radiate in the space between you. It was obvious in the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes wouldn’t meet yours, the way his jaw clenched when he heard someone mention your name. It was midsummers tonight, and he’d invited you as his date - making you one of the only Pogues here. The two of you had been dating for a little under a year, and your anniversary was coming up in a few weeks. He’d hated you at first, he just knew you as John B’s sister, a Pogue through and through, and that was enough in itself for him to have a bad opinion of you. But, a year ago, you’d both got drunk at one of the parties on the beach, and he’d argued with you over which can of beer was his, and then you’d woken up the following morning next to him on the beach. Though, when you’d gone to leave, he’d asked you to stay. And that seemed to be the basis of the start of your relationship - Rafe asking you to stay. And you’d agreed.

“Hey (Y/N),” It’s Sarah that walks over to you, looking seemingly fed up of the Kook atmosphere already.

“Hey,” You try to smile back, pulling your eyes away from Rafe.

“Everything okay?” She frowns, standing beside you at the bar.

“Your brother,” You roll your eyes, resting your chin on your hands in front of you.

“When isn’t he the problem?” She laughs, “What’s he done this time?”

“I don’t think he’s done anything, I think he’s mad at me but I don’t know what I’ve done,” You shake your head, “He won’t even look at me.”

Before you can say anything else, JJ and Kie come over to the two of you, JJ dressed in his full server outfit - convincing everyone but you guys that he might actually work here. You’d been friends with JJ since he’d met John B and you spent basically all of your life with him.

“Please tell me this will be over soon,” Kie groans, shifting the material of her silk dress over her torso, “I hate this.”

You were wearing a dark green dress that Rafe had picked out of the three options you found in Sarah’s closet of unworn clothes. It hugged your figure and sat perfectly around your chest, flowing down in silk over your shoes.

“I don’t recognise you when you look like this (Y/N),” JJ points out, taking your drink and finishing the rest of it, “Very… kook.”

You roll your eyes and hit at his chest, “Grow up JJ, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen you in proper clothes ever.”

He grabs your hand when you push him and pulls you in as if he’s about to twist your arm. But an all too familiar voice cuts between you.

“Hey, waiter,” Rafe shouts, “My drink’s looking close to empty, get me another.”

JJ drops your arm and looks at Rafe with a clenched jaw, “Get it yourself.”

“I don’t think you want to talk like that to me here,” Rafe lets out a laugh, the kind that comes from deep in his chest, “These are my people, not yours.”

“Rafe stop it,” You sigh, trying to step between him and JJ before this escalates further.

“So why don’t you get the fuck out of here, and leave my people, and my girlfriend, alone?” Rafe’s words are cold, calculated, separate from so much of what you knew of your boyfriend.

You push JJ back and stand between the two of them, turning your body to look directly at Rafe, but his eyeline falls above you and looks over at JJ still, “Rafe, leave it out.”

He doesn’t look at you, walking away with that tension in his shoulders that didn’t seem to leave.

“For fuck’s sake,” You mutter under your breath, “I’m sorry JJ.”

He laughs, dragging a hand through his hair, “Come on (Y/N) we all know you’re the only Pogue he doesn’t hate, that’s not going to change.”

You take a deep breath and look towards the direction that Rafe had just stormed out to, “I’ve got to go, I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Let us know if you need anything (Y/N),” Sarah calls out from behind you, the only one of any of them that was somewhat close to being able to understand Rafe.

~~~

You know he’s back at the house, and you’re thankful he’s thought enough to not lock the door behind him. It’s dark in the mansion and it’s eerie when you’re alone like this. You follow the steps upstairs towards his room, relieved when you catch the sight of the light on.

“Rafe?”

“Get out (Y/N), go back to the party,” His voice is cold, harsh.

“Rafe what the fuck have I done?”

“Nothing, just go back.”

He still won’t look at you.

“Nothing? You won’t talk to me, won’t touch me, won’t look at me, you haven’t since we got to that fucking party. You asked me to go and then spend the whole night ignoring me? What the fuck is this?” You’re raising your voice without thinking about it, the anger fuelling the fire in your veins.

“Just leave it (Y/N), I’m fine,” He tugs off the tie from around his neck, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“So that’s what this is now? We don’t even fight it out?” You scoff, “I’m not doing this with you Rafe. I’m not having you make me feel like shit all night, ignore me completely, embarrass me in front of my friends, and then tell me you’ll ‘talk to me later’.”

You try to stop your lips from wobbling, stop your hands from trembling, stop your burning desire to fall into his arms.

“(Y/N), don’t act like you don’t see how people look at you,” He shakes his head.

“No, fuck you, Rafe,” You shake your head, letting the tears bubble in your eyes, “You want to talk about people looking at me? Maybe people were looking at me because you were ignoring me all night!”

“You fucking love it, it’s like all eyes on you, and you don’t do anything to stop it!”

“Are you kidding me? Are you taking the fucking piss Rafe?” You’re fully yelling now, “Who do you think you are? No, who do you think I am?”

He’s quiet.

“I’m not dealing with this,” There are tears spilling over your cheeks now, staining them with the running of your mascara, “If you think I love other people looking at me so much, maybe I should go to one of them, because they certainly wouldn’t spend an entire night ignoring me.”

“(Y/N)!” He calls, watching as you turn on your heel to walk back out of the house.

As you’re just reaching the front door, his scream rips through the house, enough to make you flinch. Your heart is forcing you to go back, but you defy it, closing the front door behind you and walking back out into the dark.

~~~

You’re not sure how long you’ve been down by the beach, listening to the repetitions of waves over the sand, the hum of Midsummers still going on behind you, the silence that always remains after a fight.

In all of the arguments you’d had, it never ended with you storming out. You’d argue, and yell, and disagree, until eventually you didn’t. You would meet in the middle, admitting when you were wrong, and explaining when you knew you were right. But it worked both ways and, that was the thing, it always worked. You’d be mad at each other until he told you he loved you and you told him you’d love him tomorrow, he’d laugh and know that you meant it, that you’d always forgive him.

Today felt different. Rafe felt like he was arguing with himself whilst he was arguing with you, and you weren’t going to listen to him accuse you of things he knew you’d never do.

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around yourself as the chill starts to pick up a little over the beach, sending a shiver through your skin.

That’s when you hear him, stumbling steps over the sand until eventually they stop beside you.

“Can I sit?”

You take a deep breath and nod, still looking out over the water to avoid falling into the gaze of his eyes. Rafe takes a seat in the space beside you, so close that his arm brushes yours. Without a second thought, he pulls the suit jacket from around him and wraps it over your shoulders, his hands lingering there for a moment. You instinctively pull the material around you, breathing in the scent of his his aftershave that clung to the lapels.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” He sighs, and you’re sure you can hear a tremble in his voice, “I didn’t mean what I said back there. I’m not saying I didn’t think it, but I shouldn’t have said it the way I did.”

“Why did you think that though, Rafe?” You shake your head, still not looking at him directly.

“It’s not because of you. It’s everyone else. I see the way they look at you, it’s like as soon as you’re there, they all look at you like prey,” He clenches his jaw, “And I hate it, and then I see them and I think why isn’t it them that you’re with.”

“Is that why you started on JJ?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I know,” He nods, “I’ll apologise to him.”

You can’t help but laugh, “No you won’t.”

He laughs too, and for a moment that’s all there is.

“I don’t want to lose this (Y/N), but the more I think of that, the more I convince myself that I am going to lose it, and that terrifies me,” He drags a hand through his hair, “I get if you’re still mad at me, I’ll walk you home if you don’t want to stay.”

You take in a deep breath and exhale, moving your head to rest on his shoulder, “The problem is, Rafe, I’m the only one that can put up with you.”

As if he is worried you’ll slip away, he wraps an arm around your waist and grips you tightly, his head turning to breath in the scent of your hair, “I love you, (Y/N).”

You hum in response, nuzzling your head into his neck more, “I’ll love you in the morning.”

He kisses the top of your hair, once, twice, three times, letting his lips linger on the third, “Do you want to go back to mine?”

“No.”

You can feel the panic coarse through him, like he’s worried this time is still different than the rest, that he’d be going to bed alone thinking of everything he shouldn’t have said.

“I want to stay here,” You mumble, snuggling into the warmth he seemed to radiate, reaching your arms around him.

Rafe laughs and it rumbles through his chest against you, pulling you as close to him as he can get you to be.

~~~

The following morning, you wake up to the sun. Rafe’s jacket is still draped over you, your head resting on the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs are tangled in his, and his arms are gripping you tighter than ever, his eyes still shut.

You reach up and press a kiss to his jaw, the closest to his lips that you can reach from this angle. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, so innocent compared to what everyone else thought they knew of Rafe - because nobody else got to see him like this, like you did.

He hums against your touch, his body waking up before his eyes have the strength to open. When he can just about muster the strength, he pokes one eye open to look at you, stretching one arm away from you and tucking it under his head, “Do you love me now?”

You laugh, kissing his jaw three more times, “I do.”

2K notes · View notes

quimichi · 7 months

Note

NSFW [ SFW if NSFW isn’t okay- ] Malleus Hc? [ male reader if your comfy with tat, if not gn is good too :3 ] ignore if your not taking requests or this isn’t okay-

. . . . . . . . . ╰──╮MY DEAREST ╭──╯ . . . . . . . . .

(N)SFW MALLEUS BF HCS

Malleus x Gn!Reader

A/n: I do male reader, but since you said gn reader is fine too I did gn reader! I hope it's ok but obviously I can still do a male reader ♡

SFW

: ̗̀➛ first of all, damn you're lucky like---

: ̗̀➛ the fact that you're now in a relationship with the most powerful being of the school is mad scary for so many. After all, you're just a magicless human.

: ̗̀➛ but you are so much more to Malleus himself, and he takes a pot of pride in being your partner, boyfriend sounds so...weird to him

: ̗̀➛ Lilia btw is a super proud mom

: ̗̀➛ i have the add the adorable gargoyle stuff because it's a Malleus thing. He always takes his time and is open minded to youe interest, so obviously you are too! Whatever it might be he will try and study it to understand you better

: ̗̀➛ please help him tho, he may get a little lost in places of the internet if he ever trys to learn more on there

: ̗̀➛ insist on you two sleeping together. And INSISTS that you and Grim move to his dorm, his room to be specific, because the conditions you live in? We don't talk about them---

: ̗̀➛ once he got a taste of cuddling, it was over for you. He can and will get clingy at night, pulling you into his chest so he can hold you

: ̗̀➛ very protective and somehow greedy. Your attention is his, his animalistic dragon side may come out there but you can deal with it, so far that is-

: ̗̀➛ gets you way to expensive presents, mostly with pretty gems. Things like jewelry, or even other decorative pieces. All in your favorite color(s)

: ̗̀➛ loves to take late night walks with you, having your arms linked while slowly walking beside each other enjoying not only the atmosphere but each other's company

: ̗̀➛ will also read to you if you ever ask for it. Having you falling asleep right there in his arms ro his soothing voice really does sound like a dream

: ̗̀➛ lol he literally told Sebek to also protect you from any harm that comes if he can't be around you (which is like so rare he's glued to your side)

: ̗̀➛ baby can't use his phone right and would think that if he speaks to his phone with the chat open it will magically send the text to you, like you always do with voice mails---

: ̗̀➛ or he has his front camera open and doesn't know how to turn the view so he literally turns the whole phone and trys to blindly press the button

: ̗̀➛ he's so cute stfu

NSFW

: ̗̀➛ this guy is huge like---massive. You have to be around his size to really take it down good-

: ̗̀➛ rip to my fellow small people out there

: ̗̀➛ obviously he gives off big dick energy and this is what he has, a big dick. Like 9 inches, in cm that would be 22

: ̗̀➛ it's average in thickness but the length...damn: ̗̀➛ like i said before very protective, also meaning possessive. He will mark you up, with his smell and with any other sign he can. That's why he gets you the jewelry too. And also hickey's

: ̗̀➛ if you dont like those, he won't do any of them he respects you to much for this to push you into anything that you are not willing to at least try. Same with showing them, if you don't like people to know this way, he is very okay with this

: ̗̀➛ since he does love and respect you a lot, like literally adore and being obsessed with you, you will have the final word of anything. He is willing to try everything out of curiosity and will maybe bring something up himself, but won't MAKE you do anything. A no is a no after all

: ̗̀➛ so a no for him is definitely degration, like sry people who like it but no-

: ̗̀➛ [FEM REDER] a little yandere but would baby trap you at some point in life cause he knocks you up all the time with everything he has. So in the end, you are truly only his

: ̗̀➛ [MALE READER] would also let you take control once in a while. Yes, he is dominant for 99% but if you are also, just ask and take control he won't bite unless you want to, bite back even. Literally ruin this man's insides he will love it ♡

: ̗̀➛ seeing you so...rounded with his cum just makes him keep going, if you let him

: ̗̀➛ also, belly bulge. It's hypnotizing seeing himself going in and out of you, in and out...

: ̗̀➛ can go for so many rounds, because the Stamina he has is insane. Like he turns when you star begging for his dick inside you

: ̗̀➛ really loves to hear you, he knows you're obsessed with his voice but so is he with yours. He won't only whisper those dirty but also sweet things into your ear, making you weak. He wil also make you say things you were never expecting to say, without him forcing you. Same with the noises he can draw out

: ̗̀➛ He makes you shameless without even realizing it and it makes his brain go brrr

: ̗̀➛ to a point where Lilia heard it more than once-

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland headcanon #malleus x yuu

417 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 5 months

Note

hii omg I absolutely adore your blog!! i love the interactions between the guys and reader, the way you write them makes them feel so so real 💫 I was wondering, how do you think they'd react to reader having a horrible nightmare and not being able to fall asleep? you dont have to write it ofc, and sorry for my english it's not my first language 🥰

Hi, thank you lovely! Please don't worry about your english, it's amazing and it'd be no problem even if it weren't, and thanks for requesting <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You wake with a tear already slithering down your face from the injustice of it. Your chest feels empty and crushed, and you press your palm to your breastbone as if that will ease the hollow ache. You come to terms quickly with the fact that none of it was real, you’re okay, but there’s still evidence of your terror and indignation in your too-hot skin. You pull the sheets covering you to the side so that half your body is exposed to the cool air.

“Hey.” The word is hardly more than a raspy exhale, Sirius’ voice slurred with sleep. You’d evidently slipped free of his arms at some point in the night. You distinctly remember falling asleep with his breath on your forehead, but now there’s nearly a foot of empty space between you. His face rubs against the pillowcase as he shifts to see you better. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, though your voice is tight with unwanted tears. They keep squishing out of your eyes, like aftershocks of an earthquake that’s already fading from your memory. “Just a dream.”

Sirius reaches for your face. His hand is pleasantly cool against your skin, but he makes a sleepy discontented sound at the wetness he finds. “You’re crying.”

“Shh, you’ll wake them.” You cover his hand with yours, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I’m okay, go back to sleep.”

Sheets rustle as James rolls over to face you. “Whas’ going on?”

You sigh. “Nothing, sorry.” You turn your face from Sirius’ touch, moving one leg over the edge of the bed. “I’m going to go get some water.”

“She’s crying,” Sirius tattles, though it’s hard to be too mad at him when his voice is still foggy with sleepy bemusement. He wraps his hand around your elbow. “Wait, stay.”

You go to shush him again, but then you see that Remus already has his eyes open. He’s been watching you quietly for who knows how long. Superb. At least your crying has finally stopped.

“What’s wrong, angel?” James says through a yawn, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he props himself up on his elbow to see you over Sirius. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah, just a dream,” you reassure him softly. “Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, though he still looks like he’s got weights sewn into his eyelids. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No, thank you,” you say as kindly as you can. “I just want to get a drink, then I’ll go back to sleep.”

“I’ll get it for you, love.” Remus’ voice is rough. He rolls over and says warningly, “Light,” before turning on the lamp beside the bed. Sirius makes a low moan of protest, turning his face into the pillow, and you and James both squint your eyes. Remus passes James his glasses, sitting up to get out of bed.

“I can get it,” you object. You go to mirror him, but Sirius holds fast to your elbow, preventing you from moving off the mattress.

“No, I know better.” Remus steps into his slippers. “I’ve got it, you stay.”

You watch guiltily as he plods out of the room, then turn to James and Sirius with a bemused look. He knows better?

James gives you a small smile, tinged with apology. “Whenever you say you’re going to get water in the middle of the night, you never come back,” he explains as Sirius wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you closer. “None of us wants you to deal with these things on your own, angel.”

Your face starts heating again with the knowledge that they’ve found you out. You do often say you’re going for water after nightmares like these, so that your boyfriends will go back to sleep even though you can’t. You usually end up sitting in the living room, distracting yourself with sudoku or reading until it’s a reasonable hour to make breakfast and pretend you’ve only just woken up.

“Give ‘er here, Pads,” James says at your touched silence. “We can share.”

Sirius holds you to his front and rolls over, situating you between him and James on the bed. James takes your face in his hands and sets about kissing your salty cheeks, lips wet and smooshed and more loving than you could ever deserve. You can’t help but smile as he does it, and Sirius makes a quiet sound of satisfaction, giving your middle an appreciative squeeze.

“They’re just dreams,” you argue when James pauses. “I don’t need to be babied over something that didn’t really happen.”

“They’re still upsetting,” Remus says as he comes in with a cup of water, “aren’t they?”

“Sort of, I guess.” You sit up to take the cup from him, doing your best to convey your gratitude through a look. He gives you a tired smile as he gets back in bed beside James. “But it’s like, half the time I don’t even know what I’m upset about. I forget them.”

Sirius disentangles his arms from you as you sit upright. He settles for rubbing your lower back instead. “But you can’t sleep afterward.” It’s not a question.

You take a sip of water, speaking quietly into the cup. “I think I get too worked up.”

“That’s alright, darling.” Remus’ voice is soft and smooth as butter. “Your body’s just still working through the emotions of it all, yeah? But maybe, instead of running off and staying up all night, you could let us help you.”

You look over at him. The warm light from the lamp makes his mussed brown hair look golden as he watches you consideringly. “How?” you ask tentatively.

“Seems like all you need is to calm down,” James says, looking up at you from where his head rests on the pillow just beside your hip. You want to squirm at all the attention, but there’s nothing pitying in his gaze. “We can at least try to help with that.”

You hesitate, and Remus reaches over, wrapping his hand around your cup. “Done with this, lovely?” He takes it when you nod and sets it down on the nightstand. “Alright, lie down.”

You do as he says, shimmying beneath the covers. Remus shuts off the light.

Sirius’ grip is solid as he turns you by your hips, setting your back to his front. “Still feeling too warm?” he asks softly.

You blink into the darkness. “How’d you know?”

He chuckles, and you feel his lips press against the back of your head a moment before his hands snake under your pajama shirt, cool palms pressed flat to your stomach. “Because I know you, sweet girl.”

“Do you think taking some deep breaths would help?” Remus murmurs.

You’re not sure, but you try, counting as your lungs expand and contract until they start to feel a bit more like their normal size.

“There you go.” James’ lips press to the spot between your brows. “Does that feel better, angel?”

“Yeah,” you admit. The word emerges like a sigh. Your voice is slipping away, quieting as you grow drowsy. Sirius can tell, and he begins to rub his palm slowly back and forth across your ribs. It grows warm against your skin, but you don’t mind so much anymore. “Thank you guys. Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling.” Remus’ words start to slur as his own sleep finds him. “We’d always rather all be awake than leave you by yourself.”

772 notes · View notes

mysicklove · 9 months

Text

Pairings: Drunk! Bachira x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Just a silly little fic where reader has to take care of her lovely, very intoxicated (and horny) bf

A/N: Very self-indulgent. I had a lot of fun writing this, even if its a little pointless and I have little ppl reading my bllk stuff

Bachira is a lightweight. Sure the muscles he gained from the years of soccer helped him just a little, but other than that, after three drinks he is a goner. Some nights he cries about everything he sees, others he's laughing till he physically can't anymore. You'll never know what you'll get, but either way, he has to be watched 24/7.

And of course, his friends like to use this against him. In a couple of days it is his birthday, so the boys took him out drinking to celebrate. You didn't mind, it's not like your boyfriend would ever do anything too bad while intoxicated. Besides, you threatened Isagi enough to watch over him.

Of course, the knocking on your apartment door did not sound like a good sign. Nor Isagis slightly slurred, "Y/N! Open up!"

You sigh, and stand up from your spot on the couch to hear Kunigamis gruff, "Dude be nice!"

"Please open up?"

"We are at Y/Ns house? Woaahhhhh!"

You open the door to see Kunigami, Isagi, and of course your boyfriend. He is being held up by the two, his head lolled to the side and a lazy grin on his face.

You raise your eyebrows at Isagi in particular. He knew how easily Bachira gets drunk. "Really?"

"Hey don't look at me! Kunigami was the one who gave him shots!"

Your mouth flies open and you turn to the orange-haired man. "You gave him shots? Are in insane? He gets tipsy off a sip of alcohol!"

"Y/NNNNN," Bachira whines, trying to wave at you from the hands on the two's shoulders. You half-heartedly wave back, looking back to the other two for an explanation.

Kunigami leans forward to get a look at Isagi. "How was I know he was a lightweight?"

Isagi points a thumb at you. "He was crying about how he missed her after two drinks!"

Before Kunigami could argue, Bachira tries to reach out for you, and goes toppling forward. All three of you guys catch him, your hand on his chest to try and steady him. "You caught me!" He giggles to you, smiling as his forehead bumps yours.

"Yeah no, we caught you. Y/N, do you think you can handle him?" Isagi says glancing at you, hoping you aren't too mad.

You sigh, and manage to wrap an arm around your shoulder. He leans his head onto your shoulder, trying to get as close to you as possible. He was so clingy when drunk. "Yeah yeah. I'm fine. He isn't too heavy."

The boys both sigh in relief and help pass him on to you. You turn around and wave them goodbye. They nod and apologize before you shut the door. You hear Kunigami mumble something about how this trip was sobering him up.

"Let's get you to clean up and to bed, hmm?" You sigh, rubbing his hair affectionately and beginning to drag him to the bathroom. It was harder than you thought, considering he was basically putting all his weight on you, and cuddling up to you.

"I had fun tonight!"

"Yeah?" You respond, maneuvering him to sit on the closed toilet seat. He nods his head, it's slow and wobbly, but cute.

"But I—But then I was like.....Like where is Y/N? I miss Y/N." Both of his hands are planted in between his slightly spread legs, and he's swaying from side to side. "And they were getting mad at me!"

An amused smile pulls at your face as you open the cupboard and pull out a soft light blue headband. "What did they say?" You say, placing the headband over his face, and then back up again to remove his bangs from his face.

He touches the headband, while his eyebrows slightly furrow. "Hmmmm...They said—Oh! They said I was being dramatic! And I was soooooo confused. Because I am not dramatic, Isagi is the dramatic one!"

You bark a small laugh as you use a wet rag to damp his face with water. "I like your laugh," He mumbles, head falling forward onto your stomach. You prop him back up and he pouts at you but doesn't say anything.

You grab the face wash and foam it up, before turning back to him and spreading it on his face. He blinks up at you and smiles at the proximinity. "You are so pretty, Y/N"

"Thanks, Meguru. Can you close your eyes for me? I don't want to get soap in them." He obeys with a hum and begins to sway again, but this time it seems more purposeful as if he was just happy to be there.

'Y'know, I think I like you. Like really really really like you," He chirps, leaning into your touch, and allowing his face to get massaged by the soap.

You laugh at him, a grin plastered on your face. "Weird...Cause I happen to really really really like you too." His eyes fly open with his smile. "Close them."

"Oooooh so demanding. I like that too."

You ignore him, instead grabbing the washcloth and beginning to remove the soap from his face. "So I was thinking....." He opens his eyes when he feels you dab at his forehead.

You can tell he is looking at you to prompt him. "Yeah?"

"Wellllllllll, I think tonight. Well actually! And tomorrow and after tomorrow and the day after—"

"Meguru," You warn, cutting off his ramblings.

He giggles at you. "We should have sex!"

You pull off his headband and set it back away, trying to fight back the smile. "You are a horny drunk. It's not happening tonight, that's for sure."

He lets out a loud dramatic whine and stands up, wobbling over to you. "But whyyyyy. It's my birthday! And I am not drunk!"

You watch him stumble over his feet and raise an eyebrow. Before he could fall you grab at his side and lead him back down to the toilet. You hand him a glass of water. "Drink."

He takes a couple gulps of water under your watchful gaze, before cringing from the lack of air, and slamming it back on the counter. He immediately goes back to the conversation before. "Whyyyyyy. But I like—No love you! This is what people who are dating do!"

"Because you are drunk. Your breath smells like straight alcohol. And your birthday is not for another two days, egoist."

"I am going to brush my teeth. And then—You!" He jabs a finger in your face. "Will meet me!" Finger flips around to point at himself. "In the bed in five minutes. Where we!" He rotates the finger back and forth between the two of you. "Will make love."

You nod at him, patting his head in a teasing way. "Lets work on the first task. And I will think about it."

He seems to like this answer, eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Sure," You say, knowing its definitely not happening. You grab his toothbrush and lather it with toothpaste.

"Oh my—I just remembered something."

"Hmm?" You mumble, putting water on the bristles.

"I got hit on at the bar!" He giggles, looking up at you with a grin.

You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side. It's not like you were worried about it, but still, it was not something to hear about it. "She said—Wait. What did she say? Oh! Oh! She said I was "totes adorbs" Isn't that funny, Y/N? She was a foreigner!"

You didn't think it was too funny. You hand him the toothbrush, but he doesn't take notice to it, still immersed in the story. "But hey! Guess what."

"What?"

"I said I was married. And coming back home to my wife. My wife as in you! You are my wife. Er-um, pretend wife, who will be my real wife soon!" He rambles on, leaning forward toward you to hopefully coax out some approval.

You indulge him, smiling at him. "Good job, my pretend husband," You tease, ruffling up his hair gently. "Now, brush your teeth."

He nods, plunging the toothbrush into his mouth and getting to work. You lead him to the sink and he spits it out and turns to you with approval. You nod at him, and he gives himself a thumbs up in the mirror.

ust when you are about to lead him out of the bathroom, you watch a frown begin to form. Not a good sign. The waterworks were coming. "I missed you so much," He whines gripping onto your shirt, as tears begin to prick at his eyes.

"Wow, Meguru. You really are drunk. C'mon, let's get you to bed," You sigh, hoisting him up and helping him toward the bedroom.

He sniffles at you, leaning into your neck. "Did you not miss me?"

"I missed you desperately," You tease, smiling at him and wiping away the dramatic crocodile tears.

He seems to like this answer, nodding to himself. "Good. Cause I missed you."

"I know, love."

"A lot. I was so so sad." You cover your mouth to hold back the laugh. You didn't want to encourage him even more or make him cry again. "But don't worry! I am happy again!"

"I'm glad." You say as you begin to undress him.

"Woah. Woah. Woah. You said—You said! We weren't doing it tonight. But look at you." You glance up at him in amusement and then tug his sleep shirt on. Once he realizes it, he pouts and looks away.

Then you pull up the covers for him and lead him into bed. He more like trips into the sheets, but you throw a pillow on him, not worried about it.

Finally, you get on your side and tuck yourself in next to him. "Goodnight Meguru, let's hope the hangover isn't too bad."

"I really want to have sex," He turns to you, blinking at you in the dark.

You sigh, pushing a pillow in front of his face. "Maybe tomorrow, you drunk. Goodnight Meguru."

He groans one last time, and you hear him mumble, "Worst birthday gift ever." into the pillow. He falls asleep in less than thirty seconds.

#mello.writes #bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira meguru #x reader #reader insert #bllk bachira #bachira fluff #meguru bachira x reader #bllk x reader #bachira meguru x reader #fem reader #fem! reader #bachira fanfic #meguru fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you

505 notes · View notes

sinfulpanda16 · 3 months

Text

Forget Him Sweetheart

Gojo Saturo x fem reader

Synopsis: You were just cheated on by your shit ex and go seek comfort from your friend Gojo, but one thing leads to another and soon you receive a huge comfort

You open the door to your apartment and head inside. So many things going on in your head and all of it gave you the biggest migraine. You close the door behind you and set your keys on the little table beside you. You stand there for a second and then your tears start to fall. You were able to hold them back when you saw your boyfriend cheating on you, on the drive home, and on the way up to your apartment. You wanted to be that woman you've always seeked to be. The one that would throw away her man like trash when he was caught cheating and not even be phased about it, but you couldn't hold them back. It only hurt your head more.

You walk to your bedroom and wrap yourself under the covers. This pain was immense, it hurt so much anyone could hear it in your cry. You grab one of your stuffed animals and cry into them trying to avoid being too loud. You never thought of yourself as cheatable but right now that's all you're calling yourself. Someone who can be cheated on easily. That night you fall asleep crying thinking that the last thing you thought of was yourself as unlovable but really the last thought in your head before you fell asleep was the thought of him, Gojo Saturo.

The next day you were working at your job. A cafe where a regular would visit. All the baristas fawned over him and honestly you did too. How could you not he was so tall and charming and not to sound full of yourself, he had a thing for you. Always calling you by pet names, sweet thing and sweetheart, he made you feel beautiful. Your friend had a way with women and you've always told him his future wife would be the luckiest girl on earth.

Speak of the devil, a tall white-head enters the cafe and immediately makes eye contact with you. He smirks and goes to sit at a table by the window. You go and stand next to him, "Hello ready for your order?"

Gojo looks up at you with an eyebrow raised, "What's wrong sweetheart. No 'Good Sir' today?" You have gotten close to him to the point where you'd call him Sir or Mr as a joke. Your guys relationship had a little bit of teasing in it but thats all it was you never thought more of it.

You gave a weak smile. "Oh sorry, I've just been," a flashback of your boyfriend kissing another womans neck came to your head. You heart pound against your chest and you subconsciously clutched the fabric of your uniform above your heart. You sighed, "I just been under the weather lately." You tried of thinking about anything else that would stop the tears from falling.

Gojo did not like the view in front of him. Why was sweet thing crying? He could tell that something was wrong but he knew he shouldn't push you here of all places. He could also tell that you were trying to hide it and probably felt embarrassed.

He chuckles softly, "Well then, I have my order ready."

You look at him and get ready to write down his order in your little notepad. He looks at you, "The whole menu. Cuz it's me-n-u." You're stunned but you laugh anyway. Gojo smirks, there we go that's better. Seeing that smile on your face just looks right.

You shove his shoulder playfully, "You wierdo."

He chuckles, "Ok for real though, can I get the espresso with..." he looks back at the menu for a bit but then turns to you "What are your favorite cookies from here?"

You smile at him, "I like (f/c). They're amazing Gojo! You should try them."

He puts his menu down, "Alright then sweetheart I'll have two (f/c) please."

You write down his order in your little notepad and giggle, "Alright then we'll have your order ready for you in no time."

He leans back in his chair "I'll be waiting. Don't take too long." he says giving you a wink. You blush and turn around to make his coffee all while Gojo stares at you in your cute uniform.

Gojo is smooth as hell. He didn't take his eyes of you. Anytime you were gonna look at his direction he'd already turn away to avoid your gaze. His strong instincts just knew that something was wrong. While you were making his coffee you looked a bit too sad when usually you would be smiling and he'd get to enjoy watching you be cute. Whatever happened to make you this depressed made him want to fight your problems for you. He would fight for you but you two established from the start that you guys would just be friends and so he knew it was not his place to go fending for you. That was your boyfriends' job.

After a while he finishes his drink and was on his last cookie. He grabs the last one and takes a bite of it. Why are you so cute? Even your favorite cookies were cute like you. He gets up and heads towards you where you were cleaning one of the tables. He acts dramatic when he says "MMM! These are good. I was expecting you to have terrible taste." he teases.

"Tch you're the one with terrible taste. Don't go rubbing it off on me." you tease back. By now the cafe has gotten filled with customers so you go back cleaning the table you were cleaning. You wish you could've just stayed home and take the day off. After what happened last night you honestly didn't have the will to work today. But if you didn't than you never were gonna become that strong woman who doesn't cry over a man.

"Sweet thing." Gojo calls for you softly interrupting your thoughts.

You look up at him. Although his eyes are covered with a blindfold, you can still read his facial expression. He had a soft look on him like if he was worried for you. You stare at his facial features and then he holds out the last piece of his (f/c) for you to eat. You stood there frozen for a sec. The rest of the cafe disappeared and right now it was just you and him. Then after a while you open your mouth and go to eat the cookie he has in his hand for you. You were careful to not put your lips on his fingers, but you accidentally did, and you didn't move back. You loved his taste and frankly he loved the feeling your pretty lips touching his fingers. You slowly pull away and chew on the cookie and then looked up at him.

He's looking down at you and then he rests the palm of his hand on your cheek. "Listen darling, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. I'm here to listen and comfort you. Ok?" he says waiting for a response.

In a quiet voice you say "Ok" and he smiles softly at you. Without another word he turns around and leaves. You stood there for a bit watching him leave.

For the rest of your shift, you didn't stop thinking about him. Truth is you did need someone to talk to and you also just wanted to see and be with him. So when you got of work instead of going home you went to his place. You're not sure why but you get the feeling that soon after your gonna forget all about these thrash feelings right now.

Finally you arrive and you go up to his door. You ring the doorbell to his huge house and after a while he opens the door. "Oh sweet thing! What are you doing here?" he asks leaning towards you.

You respond shyly "You said I can talk to you when I need someone. Gojo I need someone." Gojo shocked allows you inside and he brings you to his living room. He was being so sweet the entire time. You've never seen this side of him and you've never had anyone be that kind to you. Not even your own boyfriend. Your boyfriend cheating came back to mind.

You stop walking and Gojo turns around and goes to you a bit worried. You sniff "I'm sorry it's just-" you get cut off by Gojo. Telling you that shouldn't apologize for feeling upset. Gojo goes closer to you and you feel safe. Such a pretty feeling, you've been around strong men before but not once have you ever felt this intense feeling of comfort and security.

You let go, "My boyfriend cheated on me. I don't know why he did it. I know I'm not all that pretty but the least he could've done is brake up with me. It would've stung yes but not as much as this." You continue to cry and the entire time Gojo hates it. That fucking bastard. He thought that guy was doing his job of fending for you.

"I'm such an unlovable piece of shit! I'm not worth being loved"

Those words made Gojo wrap his arms around you. He was avoiding touching you because he didn't want to invade any of your personal space, but after hearing those heartbreaking words he knew he had to hold you.

You continue to let out your emotions in his chest. The whole time Gojo did not let go and after a while you begin to calm down. "Baby listen to me." Baby? You wipe your tears again and look up at him. "Its the other way around, that bastard does not deserve to love you. You deserve only the best kind of love and trust me when i say you do have it." He pulls a strand of hair behind your ear. He smirks, "I know you're not supposed to hear this right now but I love you sweetheart. Always had and always will and hearing you talk like this hurts. Seeing you cry hurts sweet thing. You are loved. I love you sweetheart."

God how you needed to hear those words. I love you. And those words are coming from him. You slowly start to realize the whole time you should've been with him. You start to realize that it's not your fucking boyfriend cheating on you that made you cry. It was the lack of love. The lack of his love. It was him that made has always made you feel beautiful and loved and right now you wanted that even more.

Gojo notices how your look went from sadness to lust. Careful with his next move he decides to let you do whatever you want to him. You lean in closer to lips and with that he lets you kiss him. Thats all he needed and now he can pull you closer by you waist and deepen your kiss. He continues to kiss you and then pulls away.

The taste was amazing unlike anything you've ever tasted before. Gojo smirks, "I wasn't expecting you to get so bold sweet thing." You're so hot now. You want more of him.

"Gojo please~" you sigh.

"What? Does baby want me to help her feel good?" he teases.

Now you go to kiss him again to which he happily returns. Without breaking the kiss he picks you up effortlessly and you wrap your legs around his waist. He takes you upstairs to his bedroom and places you on his bed. He gets on top of you and smirks, "Let me help you forget him sweetheart."

He takes your clothes off and you take his off. There you two were, fully naked with him on top but he was still wearing his blindfold. You reach out to take it off of him and he let's you, revealing his beautiful blue eyes. "You look beautiful" you tell him. He smiles and kisses your lips "As do you sweetheart"

He kisses every part of your body making sure you understand just how much he loves every part of you. All this riled up energy both of you have for each other leads to him positioning himself at your entrance already. You look up him with those gorgeous eyes and he goes to kiss you on your lips, "I'm gonna take good care of you darling." and before you can say anything he starts sliding into you.

He's so big, "Ah~ Gojo" you whimper and the only thing Gojo hears is music to his ears. Fuck so far he's been loving your cute noises but that whimper of filling you up made him smirk. He kisses your neck "Fuck baby you're so tight~" he says in a husky voice. You wrap your arms around his neck and wrap your arms around his waist wanting to feel every bit of him.

Gojo holds onto your hips "You're so cute when you're like this." he dotes on you. You look up at him with little tears in his eyes, "Please move~". So demanding, he licks your tears away and smirks, "Your wish is my command." He starts thrusting into you causing a wave of euphoria to rush into both of you. You feel amazing, he feels like he's in heaven and he wants, needs, you to feel the same so he focuses and making you feel good.

"Fuck yes~" you moan out loud. He's pounding into you with such force its driving you wild. As he continues to thrust into you he's looking at your face. Seeing you feel so good made him feel good and your noises drive him wild. You look into his eyes and the whole world disappears. Right now it's just you two making love and it feels so heavenly.

"Kiss me~" you moan, he leans in and kisses you. The kiss was full of passion and lust.

He pulls away, continuing to thrust into you the room full of moans and your whimpering. "Is my princess feeling good~" he moans to you which you nod your head, "Yes baby~ you feel so fucking good~"

50 minutes later of him thrusting into you and you hanging on for dear life and your phone rings. Gojo didn't even see it but it was right beside your head. He looks at the caller ID and its that fucking bastard. He answers the call and puts it on loud speaker.

Baby can we please talk about this

At the sound of that Gojo starts thrusting in and out faster and rougher and you moan but he's quick to kiss you, so you don't give away your secret just yet.

I miss you (Y/N). That girl meant nothing to me, I promise if you come back things will be different.

Gojo is thrusting into you with rage. He'll be damned if he thinks you'll go back to him. You whimper his name making Gojo smirk, he's got you now and he's not gonna let you go.

"(Y/N) please give me another chance.

Both of you laughed at that and Gojo pulls out flips you onto your tummy thrusts back into you causing you to let out a load moan. He's pounding you faster and rougher and he's not being dicrete about it anymore.

"(Y/N)?" the guys calls for you with confusion in his voice.

Gojo smirks, "My baby isn't going back to him huh? Who do you belong to princess?" he asks between pants. Loud and and proud for him to hear. You respond "I belong to you Gojo.~" you say breathlessness and before the guy can say another word Gojo hangs up on him and now you're both at your reach.

"Gojo I'm *whimper* close~" you moan out. Gojo grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him. He kisses you, moaning in it, and then says "Me too baby. Together yeah? On three" you nod your head eagerly.

One.

You're already such a moaning mess and this causing you to moan even louder the whole world can hear.

Two.

Fuck Gojo is so close he starts pounding into you at an insane speed and with such force causing you cry out.

Three!

You both release and make it well known with your voices. He falls onto you panting and chuckles lightly, "That was amazing sweetheart." You reach up to play with his hair "You were amazing baby." He gives you a gentle kiss and says he'll be back. He leaves to the bathroom and comes back with a towel. He wipes you both down and then lays in bed with you holding you close.

"Gojo?" you call his name. He looks at you with his mesmerizing blue eyes, "I love you." he smiles "I love you too sweetheart"

You are that woman you want to be. A strong woman who forgets all about her cheating boyfriend and when she goes to find a better man to help her feel good.

#gojo saturo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo smut #gojo smut

175 notes · View notes

lesbojournals · 2 months

Note

Please could you do a stucky x reader fic where reader gets back from a mission and Steve and Bucky missed her. This leads to them cuddling up in bed and lots of kisses and sweetness. I hope you are ok doing this. Also, your other fics are amazing xx

Missions (Stucky x Avenger!Reader)

A/N: thank you for submitting this request! i rlly like this idea >:) i hope i did it justice!

You, frankly, were exhausted. You’d been on a round the clock mission for days now, and using your powers was leaving you to feel quite tired (if you must admit). You had the time to send the occasional text to your boyfriends, but besides that, there wasn’t much time to focus on anything else but your mission.

So when the time came and you finally got permission to go home, you were absolutely filled with glee. You had stripped down from your uniform at the Avenger’s compound, comfortable for your travel home in one of Bucky’s crewnecks and leggings.

While you were being driven to your shared house you felt elated, jumping in your seat as the car pulled up. You could see Bucky and Steve sprinting out the door before you could even fully get out of the car, and by the time the door was shut behind you they had you in a huge group hug.

“Beautiful girl, we missed you.” Steve said, holding you close.

Bucky wasted no time in taking you in for a kiss, letting Steve kiss up your neck as you moaned into the kiss. You jumped at the beep of the car, and so did your boyfriends.

“My stuff!” you exclaimed, and before you could get to the trunk, Steve was there, picking up your duffle bag with ease.

The car drove away as the three of you walked in the house.

“I need a shower,” You announced, “And sleep.”

Bucky winked at you with a smirk. “Want company?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Not after what happened last time!”

The last time the three of you tried showering together you’d spent much more time than planned in the shower, simply because of the lack of space between two enormous men and yourself. You nearly died slipping from the amount of conditioner Bucky used, which led to an assortment of bottles and such raining on you (not your crazy tall boyfriends), leaving you bruised for a week. Those Costco sized shampoo bottles could do damage!

With that you hopped into the shower fast before Bucky (or Steve) could oppose, wincing at the new assortment of cuts and bruises left on you from your mission.

“That’s rough, buddy.” You said to yourself as you cleaned the grime off your skin.

When you got out of the shower, in just a towel, both boyfriends stood waiting for you in the bathroom.

“What the hell, guys?!”

Steve looked at you with worry, Bucky noticing your injury after the statement “What’s ‘rough, buddy?’”.

“What is this??” Steve approached, pointing at the long cut (with stitches) on your chest.

Bucky approached as well, noticing a large, discolored, bruise on your leg. “What did you do!”

“Hey!” You took a defensive step back. “Both of you out of the bathroom so I can get changed into my pajamas and then we’ll debrief. Otherwise I’m not saying shit dude, I’m not saying shit.”

Bucky and Steve knew better than to not take your threats seriously, so they reluctantly left the bathroom with angry looks on their faces.

“And you better both be in pajamas when I’m done!!” You added, yelling from the now shut door.

“Bossy.” You heard Bucky say as you slid on gym shorts.

You threw one of Steve’s shirts on. “I heard that, Barnes!”

You left the bathroom after putting your hair up for bed, entering the room that had both of your boyfriends lounging comfortably on the bed. They intentionally left a gap in between, you noticed, a perfectly you sized gap. You could also see steam coming from your favorite mug on the bedside table, smiling knowing one of them made you tea.

“So,” Steve said, patting to the empty gap.

Bucky went straight to the point, also patting the gap. “Debrief.”

You crawled into the empty gap, telling them about your mission, your exhaustion, and the various ways you acquired your injuries. As you told your stories Steve tickled your arms, gently massaging them. Bucky went on his way to kiss each of your injuries, burying you in a fuzzy blanket and ducking underneath to continue his kisses while you talked.

When you finally finished, Steve pushed your head towards him for a gentle kiss. Steve was always so careful. You loved it.

A yelp escaped your mouth as Bucky nipped at part of your thigh, and you teasingly glared at him as he smirked up at you.

Bucky started to pull down your shorts. “Are you too tired for this?”

You giggled. Maybe you weren’t so exhausted after all.

#stucky x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #stucky #the winter soldier #marvel

134 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs