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#you know that this was supposed to be a nice night out
solbaby7 · 2 days
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Feel Me
pairing: azriel x reader
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warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI
summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.
based of the request in [ part 1 ]
No one else was supposed to be home.
Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.
Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”
“Depends on how nicely you ask.”
Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”
A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”
“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.
“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”
“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”
“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.
Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”
You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”
“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”
“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.
“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”
Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”
Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”
A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.
Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?
That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.
You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”
“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.
The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”
“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”
“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”
“A poor one.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”
The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?
You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”
Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.
The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.
“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”
“Azriel—“
“How much longer should I wait?”
The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.
Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.
Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.
His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.
You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”
Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”
“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”
“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”
“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”
Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.
When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.
Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.
“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”
He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”
“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.
Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.
“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”
Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.
The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.
Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."
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//opens the door and slams my req on the table//
I have come to you today with a marvelous idea, my lord/lady!
Beach day! With Furin + Shishitoren boys!
Their reaction to you asking them out to the beach. Their reaction to seeing fem!reader wearing a cute yet sexy bikini. Some pervs tryna flirt with our dear reader.
Teehee.
beach daze.
or, they underestimated the power of bikinis, featuring: sakura haruka, hajime umemiya, suo hayato, jo togame, hiragi toma, choji tomiyama, ren kaji, kiryu mitsuki, nirei akihiko
a/n: y’all this was supposed to be another headcanon format thing and uh… I got a little crazy. let me know if you like this format (and if I should keep it in the future)
c/w: fem!reader, beach shenanigans, alcohol consumption, established relationships, group beach day!!!, aged up characters, language, possessive!boys!!, mostly sfw, suggestive/spicy content, headcanon format
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↳ bikini blindside (or, how they fuck with your bikini)
↳ oh, god. okay, eyes up. just focus on her eyes. don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down — oh, shit.
sakura haruka ↦ flustered to the max. has never seen so much skin in his damn life. tries desperately to keep his eyes above your collarbones, but they keep slipping, running along your creamy skin and curves, noting the way your skin tone makes the color of the bikini pop. he’s trying desperately to fight off a hard-on — you may be his girl, but right now, you’re half naked, and that’s only something he’s imagined late at night in his room and his brain is absolutely short-circuiting right now. someone help him, please.
nirei akihiko ↦ a bumbling, fumbling, mumbling, scattered mess. his eyes are going everywhere, landing on everything and nothing at once, but somehow are always drawn right back to the skin nearly flooding out of your biking top. nirei knew you had some nice boobs; he’s felt them against his chest many times when you hugged him, but seeing them like this — oh, lord, oh no, what were you just saying? he’s trying to pay attention. he swears. but god, he desperately wants to hold them right now.
↳ everyone else here is wearing the same thing. it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just skin — holy shit.
ren kaji ↦ convinced himself he wouldn’t be affected at all, but is combusting at the sight. your skin just looks so smooth and soft, your curves so tantalizing, your boobs nearly falling out of the top and your ass jiggling so deliciously when you walk. your bikini looks more like lingerie to him, and he’s stuck between wanting to openly stare forever and cover your body so that no one else can see (which would unfortunately include him).
hiragi toma ↦ hiragi tries his hardest to be a gentleman — he doesn’t want to openly gawk at you and make you feel sexualized, but he can’t help it. his eyes are just naturally drawn to the strings at your hips, at the way they hug your soft curves so alluringly. can’t help but mentally point out just how much the color makes your eyes pop. can’t help but stir in his shorts at the thought of dragging you off somewhere to look at you in a less innocent way.
↳ goddamn, baby. how am I supposed to keep my hands off of you now?
hajime umemiya ↦ hands on you. lips on you. arms around you. body pressed against yours. umemiya is shameless in the way he ogles and gropes your body, spewing praises and pet names like liquid sin. he absolutely loves seeing you this way — it drives him up the wall with want, makes him want to hold your body to his forever and never let it go. don’t be surprised if he occasionally drags you away from the group to grope you a little more sensually.
jo togame ↦ he can’t keep his hands off of you; albeit in a more subtle way. from skimming his fingers down your ribs to fiddling with the strings at your hips, togame just wants to touch you. the way the bikini hugs your smooth body has him worked up inside, trying desperately to keep it from showing on the outside, and the only way to placate his urges is to touch you. though, if you two are in the water, he may rub his palm between your legs or guide yours between his, just so you can see how much it really affects him.
suo hayato ↦ grabs your ass. a lot. if he isn’t grabbing it, he’s coming up behind you and pressing himself against it using the guise of a hug. suo simply loves your ass; especially so in a bikini. he’s always had a thing for panties — so obviously something like this would be no different. he’s very conscious about how he touches you, though. he doesn’t want to bring others attention to what’s his.
↳ oh, that’s what you’re wearing? it looks so good on you. that color/style suits you, baby.
kiryu mitsuki ↦ one hundred percent matches with you. if your bikini is flowery, he will wear flower-patterned shorts. funny looks be damned. he just likes to dress up with you, and he doesn’t care what looks he gets because of it. definitely finds you sexy as hell in a bikini — and will make sure you know it later tonight.
choji tomiyama ↦ hype man, hype man, hype man. really, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. choji will hype you up. though, with your bikini on, he’s using words like ‘sexy’ and ‘hot’ far more than he’s using ‘cute’ or ‘adorable.’ isn’t ashamed to catcall/whistle at you. nor is he ashamed to be caught staring; by you, or anyone else. that’s his, after all.
↳ wet your whistle (or, what they drink at the beach)
↳ if the average human body is 60% water, then they’re 99% water.
sakura haruka ↦ he only drinks water. if someone tries to put something alcoholic in his hand, he’s throwing it back immediately.
nirei akihiko ↦ has been shitfaced a total of once in his life. never again. also, water is far healthier and you should drink more of it, especially in this heat.
ren kaji ↦ kaji just doesn’t like the fuzziness in his head and body when he drinks. he prefers to always be perceptive, and alcohol dulls his ability to do that.
↳ keg kings
hajime umemiya ↦ good lord, this man’s alcohol tolerance is way too high. he can drink a twenty-four pack and barely stumble. one hundred percent will do a keg stand and look absolutely marvelous doing it.
choji tomiyama ↦ drinks straight from the keg. he doesn’t care. alcohol tolerance is incredibly low, but at least he’s an amusing drunk. will do a keg stand and face plant in the middle of it.
↳ mojito sippers
kiryu mitsuki ↦ to be honest, you’ll probably drink more of his drink than he will. it’s not that he hates alcohol; in fact, kiryu quite enjoys it. he’s just more impartial towards light and fruity drinks. and he loves sharing indirect kisses with you.
suo hayato ↦ likes to be buzzed, but not drunk. does have a particular liking to sweeter alcoholic drinks, and he has to watch himself to make sure he doesn’t drink too much. he’s absolutely intolerable when he’s drunk (according to you, who has been the only one to ever witness it).
↳ nurses the same can of beer the entire time they’re on the beach.
hiragi toma ↦ he likes a drink, but doesn’t like the feeling of being buzzed or drunk. he will do that occasionally and in certain situations, but for a day at the beach, he’d rather just sip on something and have fun with you.
jo togame ↦ you’re more likely to catch togame with a ramune than a can of beer — but he does indulge himself every once in a while. he’s very conscientious to drink water as well, so that the effects of the alcohol aren’t as severe on his body. (secret; he’s an extreme lightweight)
↳ take a dip (or, who gravitates to the water and who prefers sand surfing)
↳ takes to the water like a goddamn fish.
hajime umemiya ↦ with or without you, umemiya is in the water. it’s his favorite part of the beach — though he finds the most enjoyment when you’re in the water with him. will have you climb on his back so he can show you that he can swim with you sitting on his back. mother fucker knows how to do every stroke in the known universe.
choji tomiyama ↦ doggy paddle. that’s all choji knows how to do. but it doesn’t stop him from swimming out into the deep ends, sending you into a straight panic every time. he can keep himself afloat, but can’t keep both of you afloat; so for the most part, you can only really hold his hand or shoulder unless his feet can reach the bottom. either way, being in the water is fun with him — because he will initiate a splash battle with everyone except you.
hiragi toma ↦ you know those people who just float on their backs in the water with their eyes closed, just completely relaxed? yeah, that’s hiragi. in some cases, you think he may have actually fallen asleep while bobbing there in the waves — but he’s perfectly awake. will let you use him as a makeshift floatie when your legs get tired.
↳ doesn’t mind the water, but needs frequent breaks from it. doesn’t like it when his fingers prune up.
sakura haruka ↦ he’s in and out quick. depending on how hot he is, he may soak in the water for a few minutes, but he doesn’t like pruny skin. he doesn’t mind standing near the shore with the waves lapping at his feet, though. will stay in the water for a bit longer if you beg him to. hates being splashed, and will yell at anyone who does it — you included.
↳ only if you’re in the water with them; be warned, they may try to dunk you or splash you.
jo togame ↦ will not splash or dunk you — will do it to others. togame actually becomes rather aggressive during splash wars; you learned that the hard way when choji splashed the both of you and togame sent a wave so powerful at him it dragged the smaller boy under the surface. if togame notices someone trying to splash you, he will block it with his own body. keeps his sunglasses on in the water. likes to wade through the water with you on his shoulders. togame can actually spend hours within the water, and even enjoys going off to the deep ends where his feet no longer touch the sea floor.
kiryu mitsuki ↦ one hundred percent holds you in the water. likes to pull you into his chest and wrap his arms around you while the water laps at your chests. kiryu isn’t the type to splash or dunk you; he might cup some water in his hand and pour it over your head randomly just to hear you squeal in surprise though. he also doesn’t like to stay in too long; thirty minutes max.
suo hayato ↦ never ducks his head below water — most of the time, he stays in areas where the water only reaches the middle of his ribs. has no issue dunking you under, though. but he doesn’t do it unprovoked. for the most part, he prefers to just chill in the water; but you shouldn’t expect any mercy if you start a splash war with him.
akihiko nirei ↦ floaties large enough for two. when in the water together, nirei often likes to sit inside a couples floatie. he likes to just ride softly on the waves with you. he will jump in the water or try to splash you every so often — with the claim that he’s just trying to keep you cool.
↳ ew, sea water? I’ll keep my ass here, thank you very much.
ren kaji ↦ hates the taste of sea water. hates feeling weird, slimy things rub against his foot. hates sudden drop offs. kaji is perfectly fine with swimming in a pool, but the sea is a no go. you’re better off just sitting in the sand with him, because you aren’t getting him in that water.
↳ you draw more eyes than just theirs (or, how they react to other men hitting on you)
↳ wants to throw hands, but doesn’t want to make a scene; will posture and attempt to glare the guy away.
sakura haruka ↦ sakura’s eyes are ice-cold and trained only on the guy. his arm is thrown around your bare shoulders and you’re practically crushed to his side. sakura won’t lash out, but he will make sure the man knows that there’s no chance for him. you’re sakura’s, and he will establish that as non-physically-aggressive as possible. (he’s still thinking about laying the douche out though.)
hiragi toma ↦ sometimes, hiragi is downright scary. and that’s never more apparent than when he’s glaring at a man who’s a little too close to you. his posture is set entirely to defense, and the full bulk of his power is displayed through his muscles. in the majority of cases, the sight of hiragi alone is enough to deter any advances; those that aren’t deterred immediately are in only a few seconds of hiragi glaring at them.
ren kaji ↦ man’s has the intent to kill in his eyes when someone checks you out or flirts with you. who knew that a man with a bowl cut and a sucker in his mouth could look so deadly? no one at the beach, obviously. kaji is a true guard dog, stuck to your side and snapping and snarling at any stranger. he just doesn’t want anyone to touch what’s his.
↳ is quite irked, but also too nervous to really say or do anything other than stay very close to you to ensure he doesn’t try anything funny.
akihiko nirei ↦ nirei hates it when other guys check you out or hit on you — but the poor baby hates confrontation just a little bit more. when you’re being hit on, you’re the one who’s defensive, deflecting the guys advances easily and motioning to nirei to solidify that you’re taken by him. if nirei starts to feel threatened by him or if he feels he’s being a little too aggressive towards you, he may employ the help of suo and sakura to scare the guy off.
↳ surprisingly, he isn’t all that bothered by it. you’re hot. of course people are going to hit on you. but you bet your ass he’s right there beside you, listening to everything the man is spewing and ready to (and will) throw hands if he needs to.
choji tomiyama ↦ he knows you’re hot. he knows some may look at your hand in his and wonder how the hell he managed to bag you. but despite that, choji feels secure in your relationship, so when someone is hitting on you, it doesn’t faze him. even when the man’s eyes fall lower than your chin he doesn’t particularly mind; he knows that’s his body, and this jerk would never have a chance. but choji does keep a close eye on the man’s hands, just in case he gets a little too gutsy in the face of choji’s apparent indifference. choji will drop him in .2 seconds.
kiryu mitsuki ↦ kiryu is one of the most mellow guys you’ve ever met. he’s soft spoken and gentle, and despite his inclusion in bofurin, he doesn’t particularly enjoy violence. as such, he’s not aggressive when another guy is hitting on you. he keeps a hand on you, however — wether it’s by holding yours or placing an arm around your waist, he subtly shows the guy that you are indeed taken. and just because he doesn’t particularly enjoy violence doesn’t mean he won’t lay a man flat should he get too ballsy.
suo hayato ↦ suo looks as unaffected as ever; that charming smile still fixed on his face, head tilted only slightly and visible eye closed — but rest assured, he is assessing everything about the man. he’s assessing his stance, his body, his intentions. suo isn’t irked by men hitting on you or checking you out. it’s just something that will happen, and in some ways, it makes suo feel good — because then he has that internal pleasure of being the arm you’re hanging off of. but he doesn’t do well with others trying to touch; that’s a hard no-no. suo will make him eat sand if he tries.
↳ don’t think about it, dude. just don’t. he puts off a presence so large and dangerous that no one would dare approach you — and the ones who do are pissing their trunks only seconds later.
hajime umemiya ↦ umemiya is very intimidating — even more so when he’s around you. of course, when he’s interacting with you it’s similar to watching a lovestruck puppy yap and bounce around their owner; but when he catches the gaze of a man who’s looking a little too intently at you, his entire demeanor changes. he looks less like a puppy and more like a snarling wolf ready to pounce. it certainly deters any potential suitors from you — and the ones who do get gutsy enough to approach when they believe he’s out of earshot are quickly scared away by a sudden and rather aggressive return. again, don’t even think about it, dude.
jo togame ↦ he’s been glued to your side since you arrived at the beach, scoping out the crowd of people from behind dark shades when he wasn’t paying attention to you. togame keeps his eyes primarily on the swarm of men that seem to be inching just slightly closer to your spot on the beach — he’s already caught a few staring openly at you, prompting him to squeeze you close to his body or pull you in for a kiss every time he did. he’s possessive, he can’t help that. and from the way you giggle and stare up at him all dazed, he gets the feeling you don’t mind it one bit.
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omfg I had way too much fun imagining a beach day with all of these boys. like the way they would interact with each other urggghhh <3 amusement part headcanons next anyone?
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alwaysshallow · 1 day
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when you get lost in the mountains, john price finds you. is that good? depends how you look at it, honestly.
it's a calm trip; something that you needed after exhausting five years in a job that didn't feel satisfying, job that you were constantly stressed in. you made a few friends, yeah, but not meaningful enough for you to feel bad because you left. at some point, you think that they are jealous of your courage to leave that shitty job.
now, even that you're unemployed, you feel a bit happier that you have more control of your life.
the feeling of being completely independent is something that you've wanted for a long time. of course, it's gonna probably last till you'll try to find a job, but that's a future you problem.
anyway; that's why the trip is good. you're alone with your thoughts, happier than ever, hiking with your headphones on. you don't exactly know how long you're gonna be here - maybe a few weeks, maybe another week. it's the moment you try to cherish the most. bonding with nature, feeling closer to it than ever.
everything feels like it's straight up from a fairytale - excluding the fact that you fuck up and you go the wrong way. you can't find a way out, the forest feels like a giant maze. it's ironic enough; something that is supposed to be an open space, now feels like a boa that is circling around your throat.
fear eventually sets in, and you decide to just stay the night in a small tent of yours that you thankfully brought - just to be woken up by some stranger a few hours later.
he's nice, well behaved. smiling apologetically, saying something about helping you. you have no reason to not believe him, when he says that he's gonna help you get out of there. he’s the epitome of a kind man, someone that you trust immediately.
maybe that's why you don't mind that he invites you to his cabin. maybe that's why you agree to sleeping here - because it seems reasonable, doesn’t it? it’s the middle of the night, after all. everything is more dangerous, you don’t want to get hurt, or for the john to get hurt either. tomorrow you’re leaving anyway.
you quickly learn it’s a lie that he serves you several times.
“Heard something ‘bout bear attacks,” he says, when you’re tying your shoelaces. you accept that, makes sense after all, he knows the terrain. You have no reason to think that he’s lying.
the next day, a thunderstorm. you don’t even think of leaving when the world is basically ending outside. besides, john takes good care of you; he cooks, makes you a warm bath, watches movies with you that are way too old for your liking, but it's good entertainment anyway.
it’s the third time you try to leave and you feel something is wrong, when you trip and you can't stand up. a hole in the stairs, as you see. something that couldn't appear overnight. before you give it more of a thought, john appears.
he's deeply concerned, you see that; he even rushes to the car, just to get back to you five minutes later with a frown.
when he says that his car is broken, it doesn't upset you so much. it scares you, the coincidence.
or the lack of it.
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chriss-slut · 1 day
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Puddin'
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~ Dom!Chris X sub!fem!reader ~
Synopsis: Your friends slip up who's your favorite character, but also your fantasy kink.
warning: SMUT!! rough unprotected sex, petnames, degradation kink, daddy kink, cursing, and a lot of stuff that i can't even remeber anymore lol
A/N: this is kinda MY fantasy kink so.. 😀 btw if there's any spelling mistakes, im sorry, i didnt have time to check it :)
I have always been, in some way, a big fan of Harley Quinn (if not obsessed). I discovered her when i was around 12 years old, when Suicide Squad came out. Everything about her inspired me. Whether it was her behavior, intelligence, madness, or eccentricity, deep down, I dreamed of being like her, of being as sexy and alluring.
As I grew older, my passion for her became something I no longer showcased, simply out of fear of being judged by others. I was now 20 years old, and it seemed weird, even boring, to others to see me in the same costume at every dress-up party.
When I met Chris, I never really talked to him about this little obsession I had, mainly out of fear that he would find it strange.
Up until now, everything had been going well between us, and I didn't find it important. He didn't need to know more about this subject.
I was at home with Chris and my two best friends. We had planned to spend the afternoon together so they could meet, especially since our relationship had just become official.
Everything was going well until Julia started talking about what I was trying to keep secret:
"Oh, by the way, are you still coming tomorrow night?" Julia asked me, completely changing the subject while munching on her chips.
"Tomorrow night?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah, to Noah's costume party, like every year, Y/N!" she said in a "duh" tone, rolling her eyes.
"Um... I forgot. Honestly, I don't think so. Chris and I had planned to spend the evening together, so it's going to be difficult for me," I said, trying to find a plausible excuse to avoid further questions.
"What??!" she exclaimed, looking disappointed.
"You can come with him, and that way, you can get to know us a bit more, Chris!" added my other friend Stella, turning to my boyfriend with a big smile, and the others nodded in agreement.
"That would be nice," Chris replied with a shrug.
"See? Come on, you're coming. I don't really plan to give you a choice. We go every year, there's no way you're skipping it this time!" Julia added.
"I don't have a costume anyway, and I'm exhausted right now. It's going to be a no from me, guys, sorry," I said, trying to sound genuinely disappointed.
"You're such a liar. Are you going to make me believe you don't have a costume when you spend all your time dressing up as Harley Quinn at every opportunity?" she said, laughing.
My eye widen and i start blushing a bit. Chris turned to me, and i look at Julia with a face that says "Please, just shut your mouth."
"Oh, because, yes, I suppose you already know, but your girlfriend is completely obsessed with Harley Quinn. It's like she's totally in love with her!" Julia said to Chris, giggling.
"Julia! oh my god!" I said, embarrassed, now trying to hide my face in my hands.
"She's not wrong," Stella added. What a bunch of traitors.
"You never told me about this?" Chris said, confused, while I stood there, dying of embarrassment at the thought that the girls might make things worse.
"What, you mean she never bored you with her Harley Quinn obsession? I'm sure her biggest kink would be sleeping with you dressed as her!" Julia said without any restraint, and this time it was too much for me.
"Julia!! What the fuck is wrong with you!" I said, getting angry.
"Wow, calm down, I was just joking," she said, frowning.
Stella's mouth was wide open, and Chris looked like he didn't know where to put himself.
"You guys should go home. 'm tired, I need to rest," I said to escape the situation.
"What, seriously? You're going to be mad at me for this? Y/N!" I heard Julia shout as I left the room.
I went up to my room and shut the door behind me. My reaction was probably over the top, but I didn't want Chris to know about this. She had no right to humiliate me like that in front of him. I bury my face in my pillow and try to think about something else.
After a few minutes, I heard some knocks on my door.
"Julia, go away! I don't want to talk to you!" I shouted from my bed.
I heard the door open anyway, so I turned around to tell her to leave, but to my surprise, it was Chris.
"I'm not Julia, sorry to break it to you," he said, trying to make me laugh.
"It's not funny," I said, rolling my eyes before sitting up on my bed.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"You're already inside anyway..." I speak, shrugging
"Are you mad at me or Julia? I don't understand anymore," he said, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.
"Sorry," I replied, biting my lip, and he came to sit next to me.
"The girls left and asked me to tell you they really want you to be there tomorrow night," he said, placing his hand on the small of my back, and I sighed.
"Listen, I'd be very happy to go with you. I don't mind. We can always come back together and spend time alone after the party, but I don't want you to fight with your friends because of me," he said, and I turned my head towards him.
"That's not why I fought with them, Chris," I said, looking back at the floor.
"Then what was it about?" he asked.
"It's something stupid. I don't really want to talk about it!" I said, feeling the embarrassment return.
"Come on, tell me. I'm not going to judge you," he said, shaking his head.
"No!" I said, avoiding his gaze.
"Is it because of what she said about your obsession with Harley Quinn?" he asked.
"I'm not obsessed with her!" I said, getting angry.
“And that’s not what I implied. I was just repeating her words!” he responded immediately.
I sighed, realizing it was becoming ridiculous to keep this hidden from him any longer.
“Yes…” I said softly.
“Why did it upset you so much?” he asked.
“Because I was afraid she’d say more, and you’d find it weird!” I sighed.
“Why would I find it weird?” he said, gently rubbing my back.
“I don’t know…” I said, shrugging.
“I don’t find you weird, Y/N. You have every right to be a fan of any fictional character if it makes you happy. I really like Harley Quinn, too. You could have told me; I would have been happy to talk about it with you, baby,” he said, smiling.
My eyes sparkle as i hear him say that and i immediately look at him again. “Really?” I said, looking at him with admiration. I truly have a wonderful boyfriend.
“You know what, why don’t you dress up as Harley Quinn, and I’ll be your Joker? That way, you won’t miss the party, and I get to spend time with you and your friends,” he suggested, standing up.
I smiled at him, leaned to hug him tightly, and nodded.
“And when we get back from the party, I’d be happy to fuck you in your costume to fulfill your kink,” he whispered in my ear, playfully smacking my ass.
“Chris, she made that part up!!” I said, blushing deeply.
“Too bad, I was really down for that part,” he said, laughing.
i laugh too, still embarrassed, and i stand up, going to the bathroom.
_______
it's now the next day, almost 8pm, and I'm with my boyfriend arriving at my place. We just left the mall, where we went to buy a Joker costume to him.
i open my front door and we both run towards my room, since we're kinda late.
"dress up in there while i do it in the bathroom, okay?? i want it to be a surprise for you!" i say sweetly, quickly pecking Chris' lips before heading to the bathroom.
after an hour or so, i knock on the bathroom door so i can have Chris' attention and i shout from inside "Are you done??"
"Uh... I've been done for 20 minutes, Y/N." he says from my bedroom.
I burst out laughing for a bit and then i open the door, making a little pose for Chris, showing my costume.
Chris' jaw drops as soon as i open the door. He stands up and stay froze, staring at me.
i giggle softly and go over him, resting my hands in his chest "What'chu think?" i speak, in a slightly higher-pinched voice, trying to recreate Harley's voice.
Chris' jaw just drops more after hear me, he stays froze for a few more moments until he finally speaks. "wow... you look... wow!"
I giggle "you liked it?"
"Liked it? I just fell in love with you all over again!" he says, now hugging me tightly and lifting me from the ground.
I laugh cute and hug him back, tightly. "I'm so happy you liked it!"
Chris buries is face on the crook of my neck, sucking it softly. "There was no way for me to not like it. you look so hot." he whisper before kissing my neck.
I moan softly and move my hand to caress his hair. "thank you, baby..." i speak before pulling away and look at him. "You talking about me when you look like THAT is crazy!"
He grins at me "thank you, sweetheart! Lets go to that party, then?"
"Yeaaah!!" i yell happily, jumping.
He chuckles at my jump and grabs his stuff. We walk out of my house, going to the party.
After a while, we arrive at Noah's house. A lot of people outside of it, all dress up as various characters and monsters. I lead Chris into the party and after a few seconds, Julia and Stella run up to us.
"HEY, GIIIRL!!" Stella yells, happy to see me, as she hugs me from the side.
"Hey, guys!!" Julia shouts at us both, still a bit scared of me being mad at her.
"Hii!" Chris says at them, waving with a smile.
"Hi, girls! Love your costume!" I speak at Stella. She nods with a smile "Thank you! You look amazing yourself, but I'm used to see it already,"
I laugh softly, not really happy about her comment but i brush it off. "You look good too, Ju!" I speak at Julia.
She smiles at me "Thank you! You too, as always... Can i ask you something?" Julia says, with a soft expression. "Yeah, sure!" i say back.
"Uh... i just wanted to know if you're still mad at me for yesterday... I've been thinking about it all night and, I'm sorry..." She speaks softly.
I smile reassuringly "It's okay... I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have become so mad at you..."
She smiles softy and nods "It's okay, i guess we both screwed up!"
"Yeah, but its alright!" i lean to hug her as she does the same.
Suddenly, Stella speaks, loudly. "So, let's party?!?" We all yell "yess!" and that way, the party begins!
______
After hours, me and Chris are going back to my place, tired from dancing and jumping all night.
I open my front door and Chris holds the door for me to enter, smacking my ass playfully as i pass through him.
"Let's to the room. Now." He speaks in a soft but demanding way, which makes me a bit confused but i obey.
Once we get into my room, Chris closes the door behind him and quickly presses me in it, causing me to gasp softly.
"Remember what i told you yesterday??" Chris speaks, his hands caressing my sides.
"U-uh... y-yeah..?" i speak, slightly nervous, since Chris looks so hot and in a rough mood right now.
He smirks and attacks my lips in a hungry kiss. We both make out for a while. As we're still kissing, he puts his hands under my ass and picks me up from the floor, taking me to bed, where he throws me on.
He crawls on top of me and says, looking down at me "You look so damn hot right now. You have no idea how much i had to control myself to not drag you to a bathroom and fuck you right there." He leans and starts kissing my neck, intensively.
I moan in response and i wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling his body closer to mine.
"Tell me, what do you want me to do with you, Puddin'" Chris whispers, making me freeze for a second. Him calling Joker's nickname to Harley made me see stars... and made me wet.
"i-i want you to fuck me..." i say softly.
"huh? i didn't hear you, baby." he says, now lifting his head to look at me.
"i-i want you to fuck me, Chris. Please!" i whine, already desperate.
Chris smirks at me "Good girl" he says before leaning to kiss me again.
While we kiss, he takes off my Harley Quinn Jacket and toss it to the side. He gives wet kisses down my face to my collarbone, where he stays as he takes off my boots.
"mmh, you're so hot, babygirl~" he mumbles as he kisses me.
i moan softly in response, my hands now trying to take his jacket off, which he helps me with.
After a while kissing, he's now in just his jeans as i still have almost the full costume on.
He grabs my jaw tightly and speaks, firmly "you gonna do justice to your costume and act like a little slut f'me?"
I look up at him with puppy eyes and nod. He smirks and whispers "Good girl~" He moves two of his fingers that was on my jaw and slide it into my mouth, pressing it on my tongue.
"Fuck, you look so good like this... oh, imma fuck you so so good today~" He speaks, in a sensual tone.
I moan against his fingers, swirling my tongue around it.
He then takes his fingers off my mouth with a bop and attacks my lips again, then going down to my neck as his hands go under my shirt, caressing my chest over my bra. He lifts my shirt and move his hands to my back, unbuckling my bra and taking it off, without taking off my Harley Quinn shirt.
He then leans and suck my nipples, which makes me moan "mmh Chris...please, i need you..."
Chris lets out a soft chuckle and grabs my jaw again, harshly, making me look at him "I'm the one in control, got it?" he says in a demanding tone. i just nod, looking up at him.
He nods back and start kissing and sucking my breasts again, now going down my stomach, until he reaches my red and blue tight shorts.
"i gotta take this off, it drove me crazy all night." he speaks, now pulling it down, letting me in my fishnet tights, my thongs and my Harley shirt. He looks down at me and bite his lip. Chris caress my thighs and spreads them, softly passing his hand in my clothed pussy, making me whimper. "Chris, Please..."
"Did you not hear me when i said i was in control??" he speaks in a serious tone "I'll do whatever i want with you, understand?"
I sigh softly and nod. "Good." he speaks before slapping my inner thigh hardly, earning a loud moan from me.
"God, you're so good to spank!" he says, slapping my other inner thigh hardly, i moan loud again.
"Turn around f'me, ma" he speaks to me and i immediately do it. He smirk down, looking at my ass, half covered with my square tights and he spanks my ass, strongly. i cry loud, burying my face in my pillow.
He grabs a fist of my hair and pull my head back, for me to look at him. "Don't wanna mess that make up yet, do ya?" i shake my head, whining from the pain in my scalp. He throws my head on the pillow again, now with my head to the side. He slaps my ass again, and again, and again, making me whine in pain, but also in pleasure.
The last time he slaps my ass, he spanks between my ass cheeks, making me moan loud. He lets out a soft chuckle from my reaction and says "Looks like someone likes to be spanked, isn't that truth?" i whine in response and he slaps the same place again, now gripping my hair again. "answer me. with words." he speaks firmly and demanding. "y-yeah, i do... i-... i l-like it..." i speak, whiny. He lets go of my hair and whispers in my ear "you're so pathetic, aren't you? Look at you, looking like a real whore f'me"
He slaps my ass again and turns me around one more time. He digs his fingers in my square tights, right between my legs, and he stretch it out, ripping it over my pussy. He looks at my sexy thong and he looks at me with a smirk. "is this for me?" I nod softly. He slaps my clothed pussy, making me whine loud, with a smirk. "Be ready, i think you'll need to~" he says to me, before ripping my thong and tossing it to the side.
Seeing him ripping my clothes always make me more turned on, seeing his arms muscles flex gives me butterflies.
He slides his finger through my wet slit and he says "so wet for me. such a little slut for liking me treating you like this." He pushes one finger in my hole, making me moan a bit. He keeps with it in, not moving, and he looks at me. "Look at you... I'd take a photo of you just to show everyone how much of a slut you are... looking so good just for me."
Suddenly, Chris pulls his finger out and slam three fingers into me, making me moan. He starts fingering me roughly, hardly and fast.
"O-oh Chris! fuck!" i moan, leaning my head back from the intense pleasure.
He, then, stops again, making me moan frustrated. "All fours. Now." he speaks demanding and i do it, my ass now almost at his face.
Chris slaps my ass and caress my wet cunt. "so beautiful like this, puddin'... so perfect~"
I whine softly in response and he stands up, unbelting his pants. He grabs his belt and hit the bed hardly with it. "If you do something i didn't tell you to, you'll pay for it. Got it?" i nod frantically.
He pulls down his pants and take them off, tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. He grips my hips and pull me to the edge of the bed, so he can fuck me while standing up. He grabs both my ponytails and pull my head back. "You gonne be a good girl and not cum for me until i say it, alright? Don't leave this position and don't scream too loud until i let you, alright?" He speaks in a firm and demanding tone.
"Yeah..." i speak softly. "Yeah, what?" Chris says, pulling even more my hair. "Y-yes, daddy..." i whine. Chris slaps my ass and throw my head forward "Good girl~".
Chris rubs his clother hard dick against my wet pussy, making me moan softly. "You're so wet you're making my boxers soaked. slut!" He pulls his boxers down and slams into me, making me scream loud. He lean over my back and slaps his hand on my mouth, pulling it back harshly. "What didn't you understand about not. screaming.?" I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut, and speak against his mouth "i'm sorry..."
Chris lets out a breathy mockingly laugh and takes his hand off my mouth, my head falling down harshly. "fucking pathetic." Chris mutters, now pulling slowly out of me. i whine at the sensation and then moan loud, trying hard not to scream, when he slams into me again.
Chris moves one hand to under my shirt, squeezing my breast, and the other to my hip, now starting to thrust in and out of my cunt.
I moan as he fucks me, slowly. "Chris, please..."
Chris stops middle-way and says demanding "First off, I'm not giving you want you want. second, you're not calling me that."
I whine softly "S-sorry, daddy..." Chris slaps my ass again and start thrusting into me again, still slowly.
After a while, i give up on moaning and i stay quiet. My head down with my eyes squeezed shut. Chris notices that and start going faster, hitting my g-point every time he pushes into me. i moan and i lean down to rest on my elbows, my back arched and my ass higher.
Chris slaps my ass again and groans lowly. "mmh, baby~ why are you so hot and perfect? looking like a real slut like this, while your pussy clenches around me. fuck!" He starts punding harder, slapping my ass a few more times.
I moan deep, trying to not be loud though. Chris keeps pounding into me until my cunt starts clenching too much around his cock. He stops and speaks "You ain't cummin' now, bitch. You know what happens if you do." and starts fucking me hard again. i start moaning louder, trying my hardest to not cum. I whine "p-puddin'... p-please... i-i can't..."
Chris slaps my ass the hardest he can and says, roughly "No. You're not cummin, Y/N. Or should i call you..." he leans over me, putting his mouth right behing my ear "Harley?".
I can feel the knot in my stomach almost exploding ad he whispers that to me. I can't believe I'm finally realizing this fantasy.
He feels my pussy clenching more around him as he says that and he laughs, smacking my ass again. "oh, you liked it, dont you? you want me to call you Harley? Is that it?"
i nod frantically, barely able to speak at this point. "Words." Chris says roughly, pouding into me roughly.
"o-oh.. y-yeah, d-daddy! p-please, c-call me t-that! o-oh, fuck, its so g-good! p-please!" i whine slightly loud, tears forming in my eyes already.
Chris smirks and start fucking me harder and faster. "fuck, ma! s-such a fucking slut! such a whore f'me!" he says, groaning. I'm so glad i told Chris i liked being degrated! I'm wetter than i was supposed to.
i keep moaning loudly "d-daddy, please! i-i need to cum! p-please lemme cum!" i whine.
Suddenly, Chris pulls out and turn me around, so we're now in missionary.
Chris slams into me again and puts his hand around my neck, hard enough to hurt but not for me to be breathless. "If you gonna cum, I'll see you cum. Gotta see that pretty face with that pretty make up all messed up." He puts his hand on my face and slides it down, messing even more my Harley Quinn makeup.
He, then, slides two fingers into my mouth the deepest he can, fucking my mouth as he fucks my cunt. He starts pounding roughly again, making me scream against him fingers, also gagging a bit.
My eyes starts rolling back with tears, just as my back arching and hips jerking up, feeling myself really close to the edge.
"Look at you. All fucked up like a whore. You really became Harley Quinn, didn't you? That hot bitch. I bet you wanna fuck every guy of the city, don'chu? fuck, puddin'. you're so fucking beautiful." Chris speaks between groans as he pounds into me. i start moaning even louder as i feel myself not being able to hold my orgasm anymore. My cunt clenching around Chris' cock just makes him groan and moan more.
"Cum. Cum f'me, Harley. C'mon, babygirl, cum for daddy~" Chris whispers in my ear. That gives me the final push and i finally cum in his cock. Not a simple orgasm, though. All of this roleplay and dirty talk made me cum hard and squirt all over Chris, which makes him cum inside of me and collapse on top of me.
We both panting hard and shaking. We stay there for a while and then Chris pulls out, laying next to me.
"You did so good f'me, Harl..." He speaks softly, caressing my cheek
"y-you too, puddin'..." i say softly, still panting.
Chris leans and kissed my lips, a long peck. When he pulls away, he looks down at me, admiring me. "Why didn't you tell me this before? This was the best sex I've done in my life..."
i smile softly at him and speak softly, now turning to face him, "I'm sorry for that... if i get another kink, I'll promise to tell ya!"
i hope you liked it! pls comment what you think, I'd appreciate it! :) xoxo
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eupheme · 2 days
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— mine, all mine
cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4.2k
tags: jealous!cooper, sort-of alternate timeline (includes a fo4 character for fun), partners-with-benefits, mutual yearning, light angst, fingering, oral sex, one pussy slap, come marking
prompt: something where he's possessive and jealous. anything that would cause a man like The Ghoul to get jealous. He needs to remind everyone (including her) who she belongs to.
Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. Not liking their old-world charm, that easy smile. Can’t be up to any good, and he hates that you might be falling for it.
It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.
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You can’t help the little laugh that bubbles in your throat, as you follow through the door at Cooper’s heels.
Seeking shelter for the night, after a long day on the road. Something different than the usual bounty. Escorting a man through the Mojave Wasteland, to New Vegas. Following another lead, they had said.
He had seemed capable enough, but didn’t know the area. His home was far to the east, not used to the harsh desert sun, the creatures that lurked here. A heavy bag of caps offered that neither one of you could say no to. Enough to buy a couple months worth of vials, and that meant more to you than anything.
“No shit. It really worked?” You glance back at the man from over your shoulder. The handle of your gun a familiar weight in your hand, as you check the hallways after your partner, “You really were him, costume and everything?”
“The Silver Shroud, in the flesh.” Nate flashes you a straight, white-toothed smile, “Calling cards and everything.”
Your head shakes in amazement. He was interesting - full of stories that didn’t seem possible to be true. Leader of the Minutemen. A retired veteran from before - or so he tells you.
Hard to believe such a thing could be true. It has you distracted - your boot catching on an overturned side table, a set of chairs.
A little yelp as you tilt off-balance. The Ghoul turning, a gloved hand stretching out out - but there’s already another at the small of your back, another at your elbow.
“Careful now, sugarbomb.” Nate huffs in your ear, steadying you until you catch your balance.
It has heat flaring in your cheeks - at his words and how you embarrassed yourself in front of both of them. Ignoring the hand, and winding yourself free, giving the mess of furniture a wide berth instead of stepping over as they did.
“Did you hear about him on the radio?” You ask Cooper instead, trying to change the subject.
Instead of an answer, the Ghoul gives you a rough grunt. Turning away from you, fingers tracing over the thick bullets lined up in his bandolier.
“Gonna sweep the second floor.” He rasps, “Stay put, alright?”
He must not have heard you, too busy concentrating on clearing the space.
You nod, a little flutter in your belly at his words as he leaves you. A hint of protection in them, layered deep. He hadn’t spoken much since he picked up this job. Eyes always watchful, fingers curled around the handle of his gun.
But you didn’t think there was anything too dangerous about Nate. He seemed nice - filling the space that you leave for him with his stories. The days traveling has been spent quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry when you hear how he’d lost everything.
His wife, and his son. Waking up after it was all over - alone.
You wonder how he could press on, be so cheerful now. But you suppose someone could learn to shoulder a lot, after so many years had passed.
It has you shivering, in the old apartment. Thick brick walls - the radiators are long dead, the cold seeping through the cracks in the window panes.
“Hey.” You hear behind you. Nate’s shoulders flexing as he peels his leather bomber jacket off, fingers hooking under the collar as he holds it out to you.
The worn vault suit underneath clings tight to his chest. Silver threading through his dark hair, peppering his beard at the curve of his chin. Handsome, in an old-world way - something you haven’t been able to help noticing.
Not that you’re interested.
It’s only because he makes you think of him, a little. The same strange way of saying things. Phrases you don’t know from your time growing up in the wasteland.
And you can’t pretend you haven’t wondered, just a tiny bit. What Cooper might have been like, before.
Part of you had thought that would make them a little more friendly - that point of connection between them - but the Ghoul has been wrapped up in thorns for days now.
Distant even, but you think you get it. Suppose he thinks it’s safer, this way.
“Oh,” It takes you a second to accept his offering. Not used to generosity without a price. A soft sigh when you shrug it on - the fabric warmed by his body heat, “Thank you. Are you sure? It’s just, these old buildings-”
“This is almost warm compared to where I come from,” He smiles, shooting you a wink, “Least I can do, with what you’re doing for me.”
There’s a sweep of his eyes, as your hands slip through the sleeves - a considering tilt of his head, “Looks better on you, anyways.”
The compliment sends an uneasy ripple across your skin, a warm heat in your cheeks. His easy charm sets you on edge - not used to words and tones like his. Not knowing what to do with it - your eyes flicking towards the staircase.
There’s a pause, before he’s inhaling a breath.
“Listen. About your… associate,” Nate takes a step towards you, his voice lowering, “I don’t know if you owe him caps or something, but if you need to split, you’re welcome to come with me.”
It stuns you for a second. How he thinks you might need help, that you’re indebted.
“Oh!” You manage - that eye contact breaking, as you search for words, “I’m not. We’re actually, uh-”
But you don’t have a straight answer. Involved, perhaps. You wouldn’t say together, as much as you wished it would be. Companions is too soft a word for the path you travel together.
His word - associate - too formal.
“Really?” Nate’s voice tips up - just before his eyes dip down you and back up, in a quick circuit, “Huh. Good for him, then.”
The silence that lingers is stilted. His hands raise, with the lift of your brow.
“Didn’t mean any harm,” Nate replies easily, “Just, if you change your mind… it’d be good to have you on the road with me.”
Leaving you then - letting the offer hang as he pokes around in the side rooms.
Another thing that you had found fascinating - the junk that he carries with him. Not just old tape but bottles of adhesive, cans of oil. Broken hot plates, all tucked into his bag.
Your head shakes, as you move deeper.
Winding your way into the kitchen, picking through broken cabinets - snatching up cans of cram. Ending up in a study, through another door.
Books spill from the shelves. There’s an old, deep desk bumped up near a wall, the upholstered chair toppled over next to it.
A few of the novels catch your eye - nose dipping to inhale the familiar, musty smell of the pages as you crouch. Thumbing through them, trying to pick one or two to keep.
Engrossed enough that you don’t hear the creak of boots on wood. The low jangle of spurs, until the door is closing shut behind you.
There’s a slow, upward pull of your eyes, until you see the way he looms over you - eyes narrowing. A hard set to his jaw, a hand that curls around your bicep as he tugs you up and onto your feet.
“Something wrong?” You ask, as you catch the pull of his brow bone, “With the house, is it safe?”
“House’s fine,” He grits. A hand tracing up the zipper of the jacket, curling around the collar.
The frown deepens, as his eyes drag over you, “You take this off the Vaultie?”
Your eyebrows raise, “I didn’t take it off him. He gave it to me because I was cold.”
He clicks his tongue at that, one side of his lip curling. Stepping into your space, until you’re bumping up against that desk.
“Can’t leave you alone for a goddamn minute.” Cooper growls.
Fingers tracing up your sides until they’re fitting beneath the fabric at your shoulders, pushing the worn leather from them.
“What do you mean?” You frown - letting him. The evening chill isn’t so bad in here, the room tucked deeper into the house. No windows to let the evening air in.
“You know exactly what I mean, sugarbomb.” He drawls, acid in his tone, “Smoothie can’t keep his hands off you, can he?”
The jacket pools on the desk, a flick of his wrist sending it to the floor. You don’t know why the Ghoul is so angry - not when he’s made it clear this something between you is just a diversion.
Nothing more than business mixing with pleasure.
“It’s not like that.” You protest, though your mind flickers back to before. Cheeks burning as you shift back, but follows - crowding you, “He’s looking for his son.”
It has your hip pressing against a desk, his own fitting against yours. Hands flattening against the top of the desk, as he leans over you.
“Lookin’ to get his dick wet, more like.” His words are a low growl, “‘Sides, is that all it takes you get you starry-eyed? Fella lookin’ for his kid?”
There’s something in the way he says it. A tick in his jaw, the way his tone pushes at you. Needling deep, as if there’s something more to what he’s saying.
Your arms prop on your hips, “I’m not starry-eyed-”
“Aren’t you?” His head cocks, “You gonna be keepin’ his bedroll warm tonight, sweetheart?”
There’s mockery in his tone. A curl of his lip and bared teeth, all while his eyes catalog each and every expression.
Your hands press against his chest then, scoffing. Yes, Nate had flirted with you. Said you could come with him, but surely that wasn’t the reason why.
Was it?
“That’s ridiculous,” It comes out flustered, unconvincing, “He was married, he’s not-”
The Ghoul shifts, his hands fitting against your hips. Pushing, until you’re sitting on top of the desk, thighs spread so he can fit between them. Distracting you, though his look is no less fierce.
“That don’t mean much, sweetie,” He growls, “Key word here is was. Not gonna keep him from tryin’, I’ll tell you that much.”
And you think you get it now. His raised hackles from the very beginning, when Nate’s hand curled around yours.
Maybe he’d burn right up, if he had heard your conversation. You wonder if he caught any - drifting up through the floorboards. Sending him right down to you, to stake his claim.
It has you softening. Fingers hooking around the thick leather of his belt, tugging him flush.
“He can try all he wants, cowboy,” You shrug, looking at him from beneath your lashes, “It’s not gonna sway me. Was just being nice because he was.”
“Nice.” He echos, as his hands slip up to your waist. Fingers curling in the folds of your shirt, rocking you against him, “That what you think you want, sweetheart?”
There’s the dip of his head, and your eyes are closing. But he just hovers, close enough that you can feel the exhale of his breath. A jerk of his head when your chin tips up, seeking him.
“You think nice is gonna take care of you the way I do?” His hand drifts up - fitting at the curve of your ribs. Thumb brushing at your breast, as you suck in a breath.
“What are you doing?” You breathe, as your eyes open. A shiver at how close he is, how his crotch presses right against the seam of your pants.
His answer is a low rasp.
“Reminding you of a couple o’ things.”
There’s a familiarity in the way his other hand dips down. Those hazel eyes are still on yours, as he gives the button on your pants a sharp tug. A soft slide of the zipper.
Your fingers curl, holding on tightly. Anticipation sings in you, melding with the sharp flutter of nerves.
“W-We can’t,” It comes out as a stammer - your concentration torn. “He’s still-”
The Ghoul’s hand leaves you, but it’s only so his teeth can sink into the tip of a leather glove - the jerk of his head to pull his hand free. Already coming back to you, giving the fabric of your pants a sharp jerk downwards.
“‘s cute you think I give a shit.” He husks - his eyes dark, as he jerks his chin towards your hips.
They seem to move on their own. A hum of approval as they lift - so he can tug both layers down to your ankles, leaving them to tangle with your boots.
His hands are warm as they trace back up your bare thighs. Soothing the chill - forever warmed by the radiation that lingers in him. Your thighs spread wider without thought, though his fingers linger.
Tracing the soft skin, just where your thigh meets hip. Close enough that surely he can feel the heat that lingers there - the scrape of his nails against sensitive skin sending up goosebumps, as his tongue pinches between teeth.
Eyes caught on how easily you open for him. The way you clench in anticipation, shifting into his touch.
Another protesting whimper falls from your lips, the ghost of a smile as his eyes flip up to yours.
“You’re gonna tell me you don’t want this,” His thumb twitches against you, ghosting along your slit, “When I can see you practically droolin’ for me?”
He lifts his hand for emphasis, casually examining the sheen that coats the pad of his thumb. Head cocked as he waits - dragging it slowly along the flat of his tongue.
“I do want it,” It’s hushed, though no less needy.
His tongue peeks out again. Pinched between teeth, before ghosting across a lower lip - the taste of you lingering. You expect him to bend you over the table, or lay you back against it.
Instead, his fingers pluck the hat from his head. Dropping it onto yours, the brim distorting your view as he bends. Crouching - his left knee pressing into the floorboards, as he situates himself between your thighs.
It has your breath hitching. Another exploration of his fingers, thumb pressing against your folds. Tugging you open, examining you, just like he’d do for a piece of found scrap.
Heat floods through you. There’s no mistaking that he’s still calling every shot, even when he’s on his knees.
“Then answer my question.” His voice takes on a sharp edge, those eyes back on yours, “You think he could give you what you need?”
From here, you can see the pretty fan of his eyelashes. The flecks of gold and green in his brown eyes, each little pitted scar and shiny stretch of skin.
Your head shakes.
“No.” Your thighs inch wider - hips bucking into his touch, “Only you, Cooper.”
He growls at the sound of his name, his hand coming to cup against your cunt. Fingers insistent, where they nudge at your opening. The tips of two sinking into your heat, ripping a muffled gasp from you.
A low hum, when he feels how wet you are. How you wrap so warm and tightly around him - an obscene sound as he presses them deep.
Unable to hide how he affects you, not when the pace picks up, until the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit. Until you’re dripping against his palm.
Your moan is bitten back. Fingers curling around the edge of the desk, needing something to hold onto.
His pace is steady, but he’s just teasing. Fingers merely filling you, stretching you out. No careful curl - just bringing you to hover on a plateau, leaving you to clench around him with desperation.
“Please,” You whine.
Relief then, as his fingers hook. Dragging against your spongy inner wall, as you whimper in approval.
“Yeah?” He hums - watching how your brows pinch, when his fingers flex again, “Change your mind about gettin’ fucked, honey?”
Teeth clicking together with your bitten-back whine, needing to feel more than just the unhurried crook of his fingers.
“Yes. I need more,” Your hips lift with your answer - bucking into his touch, “Need your cock, Cooper. I’ve missed it-”
A dirty trick, to use his name again.
To beg, like this.
He knows it, a heartbeat lingering before his fingers begin to move with purpose. The tilt of his head, and then - his tongue is flattening against your slit. Giving you something else, instead.
You cry out before you remember where you are - your hand quick to press against your mouth to muffle the sound.
He groans at the taste of you, as it floods his tongue. A dark glitter in his eyes, you think he did this on purpose. Trying to pull those sounds from you.
This thought solidified as he begins to devour you. Licking you from clit to hole, dipping between his knuckles. Working the muscle in until he can feel you clench around it too, his own groan caught in his throat. Coming back up - lips wrapping around the tight bud as you gasp, nails biting into wood as you moan.
Ones you still try to hide. Your breath sharp through your nose, palm pressed flat against your mouth. But it doesn’t stop the squeak of the desk as your hips move. The sticky plunge of his fingers, the wet lap of his tongue.
Something molten pooling inside you, red-hot. He knows how much you can take, how the stretch of his fingers slips into something honey-sweet.
His head rears back, as his eyes open. A sharp click of his tongue, before his left hand curls like a vice around your wrist. Capturing the other - fingers spreading wide as he pins them against your belly.
A smirk that grows wider - more sinister - when you realize you won’t be able to hide your sounds any longer. When all you can do is accept what he gives you.
“Oh, don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He coos - a rough breath, as he sees your jaw grit, eyes screwing shut, “Want him to hear just what I’m doin to you.”
A tilt of his head - slow in the way he returns to you. A pointed thrust of his fingers, another one slipping into you. Tongue flicking lazily, before spit is pooling on his tongue.
Pressing his fingers deep, as it falls from his lips. Dripping down your slit, before he’s sucking on your clit again.
The keen that pulls from you is loud. Drawn-out, your breath hissed through your teeth.
He grins into your cunt, the words murmured against your skin, “That’s more like it. Atta girl.”
Taking, as he gives.
Guilt lingers in you - thinking about Nate, wandering in the house. Hearing the muted moans and cries as you’re devoured against the desk. It has your lips pressing harder together, though it does nothing to mute the pleasure that winds higher and higher.
But he notices. Of course he does - fingers slipping free, curling against your clit before he’s pinching it between his fingertips. Teeth nipping at your inner thighs, marks blooming against your skin.
Another cry loosens, as your hips jerk.
“Now I know you want my cock, sweetheart. Asked for it so nicely, after all,” He husks, as his head tips up, “But you’re not gettin’ it till later.”
A threat and a promise, layered in the heavy pant of his breath.
“Plan on takin’ you by the fire. From three feet away, if I have to,” His smile is near-feral, “Let him hear how pretty your pussy sounds taking me. Knowin’ he can’t touch.”
You moan at his words. At the pet of his fingers - each breath short, growing louder as he brings you close to the edge. Keyed up enough over the past few days - leaving you desperate.
And you think that maybe - he just might be as well. It’s there in the way his shoulders curl in. The spread and rock of his own thighs, where you can see the tent of his hard cock.
That desire to make you come tipping into something that feels like need.
“You know why he can’t?” He coaxes, his words a slow drawl.
His fingers flattening when you’re slow to answer - pleasure-drunk, landing a harsh tap against your cunt that has you gasping in shock.
“Because…” You search for the words, grasping at their hazy shapes, “Because I’m yours.”
It comes so easily, the things you’ve thought but never said.
His knees shift, hips tilting on their own. A rough sound in his throat, as he watches how your lips form the words.
“That’s right,” Cooper coos, “Good fuckin’ girl. Knowing who she belongs to.”
It does something to you. That desire blooming into something tangible, racing from your thoughts to the needy throb of your clit.
He can hear the change in your breath. How it pitches high, drawn out. No longer holding it back - unable to, as your vision starts to go hazy.
“You liked that, sweetheart? Knowin’ that you’re owned?” He rasps, “Fuckin’ close, aren’t you. Gonna come?”
“Yes,” You chant, “Make me come. Cooper, please-”
His hand leaves your wrists - your palms curling into his jacket as he loosens his own belt. Fist wrapping around his cock as his tongue replaces the swirl of his fingers.
A whine - loud, in the quiet room - when those three fingers sink deep again, filling you. Only a few deep plunges of of his fingers before your breath is catching, eyes going wide.
The cry catches in your throat, coming out ragged. Unmistakable for anything else, as your pussy tightens around him - that thudding beat that starts low, rippling through you.
Pulsing against his tongue. Stealing your strength, leaving you boneless as your fingers anchor themselves against his shoulders.
He groans into your cunt, as he feels you gush against his palm. The way he can taste your release as it leaks against his knuckles, his tongue dipping down to taste.
Greedy again, with his gaze. Fixed on how wrecked you are - rumpled clothes, how you’re still speared on his fingers, thighs slick with need.
No one else can ruin you so thoroughly. You both know it - it’s enough that he lets go, chasing his own end. An unsteady push to his feet, as his fingers slip free.
His other hand flattening against your abdomen, pushing you back against the desk. A messy twist of his fist, seeing the gape his fingers left behind - that tension twisting, about to snap in his own belly.
His cock is coated in your release, when he comes. A feral snarl as his fist jerks - harkening back to your first few nights together. Back when he held back from spilling inside you, the vials too precious to spend on a stranger.
Fingers twitching against your belly, keeping you pinned as his own moan slips through his teeth. A needy buck of his hips into the tight curl of his hand, a cruel mockery of where he imagines it buried. But it’s enough - another rough sound before ropes of his spend arc across your mound.
Warm against your skin, as he covers you. Dripping down against your slit when he angles himself, making a mess of your slick pussy.
It already has anticipation simmering, deep inside. Unsure if he was being serious about later - but the thought of him taking you nice and slow, drawing it out - you might not be able to ever look Nate in the eye, but christ, it could be worth it.
Though something hangs heavy, as he comes back down. His head lowers from where it tipped back in pleasure. The slow drag of the tip of a finger through his release, glossy against your skin, before he finds the hem of your underwear. Tugging it back into place as you whine in protest.
“Hush, now.” He coos - stroking you over the thin fabric. Seeing how his come seeps in. A teasing circle against your clit, before his palm presses flush. Smearing himself against your cunt.
Staking a claim, you think. He’s always let you clean up before. And this isn’t a punishment, though the wait will be torture.
Fingers smooth the faded fabric when he’s content, his radiation-reddened fingers fitting against the soft curves of your hips.
And, maybe now you understand.
“I’m not going to leave you, you know.”
It’s quiet, breathed out as you gaze up at him.
He almost flinches. A different kind of shudder that runs through him, fingers pinching hard where they dent your flesh.
“You should,” His jaw grits. Voice low, the words coming out hoarse, “If you had any sense.”
But you both know you have none. Not when it comes to him.
Your hands fit in his, as he tugs you off the table. The snug fit of your pants as you tug them back into place, already feeling how he sticks against your skin.
Thoroughly marked. Unable to help the clench as you think about later - missing the fullness of his fingers already. A wobble to your legs - a hazy remnant from your orgasm - as you right yourself, fitting everything back into its place. Before stooping, to grab the jacket off the floor.
Cooper’s hand reaches out - fingers beckoning. His own duster already shrugging off his shoulders. Bundled up, as he holds it aloft.
“You get cold again, you tell me.”
It’s gruff. An offering, with the extension of his hand. Swapping the bomber jacket for his. The worn fabric enveloping you as you tug it on, that greedy look seeping back as he takes in how you look in his things.
A little nod, before he’s turning - making for the door.
Leaving you to follow behind, hiding your smile.
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this started a couple different ways (flirting with a bounty or with a bartender) but I thought it would be interesting to have Cooper in a situation with a genuinely good guy (Nate is the MMC in FO4 if you choose his route!) because that would surely and truly drive him nuts (rip what a couple to join up with) 💖 thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
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gretavangroupie · 2 days
Text
Lucky
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Word count: 7.3k
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, Angst, Pining, Anxiety, Weather, Tornados. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Cum Play, Fluff.
“I don’t know Sammy, the weather is already getting kinda bad,” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you peek through the blinds. The wind is blowing the trees around, and the sky is growing darker by the second. 
“C’mon lucky, it’s not even raining that hard,” Sam whines, “You promised a movie marathon before I leave again.”
“I know, I know.  But it’s supposed to get pretty nasty later, and before you even say it, yeah it’s not raining that hard now, but it will be soon and I will have to drive in it! ” you say, stepping away from the blinds as you pace your tiny living room. 
“Then don’t! Just crash here. You can take the guest room,” he offers.
You sigh into the phone knowing he is right. It really isn’t raining that bad and you’d slept in his guest room a hundred times before. A rainy movie night with your best friend did sound pretty nice.
“Please, Lucky…”
“Alright,” you concede, “You have alcohol, right?”
“Is my last name Kiszka?” he laughs. 
“I’ll see you in a little bit,” you say, ending the call. 
By the time you’re walking out the door the rain has picked up a bit and the sun has started to set. You rush out to your car, jumping into the driver's seat as the pellets of rain pummel you. Your radio blares to life scaring your half to death as a streak of lighting lights up the sky. 
“Shit,” you mutter, starting the car fully and backing out of your driveway. It isn’t a long drive to his house, maybe ten minutes if the traffic isn’t bad, and in this weather you knew there would be hardly anyone on the roads. 
Your mind wandered as you drove, wondering what movie series you would get roped into watching until the sun came up. This was a tradition of sorts between the two of you and had been for the last several years. You took turns choosing the movies, and of course this time it was Sam’s pick. 
It was a chance meeting in a vintage shop, your first job after moving to Nashville. As he brought his items to the register his eyes traveled up to your hat, a smirk crossing his lips.
“Lucky,” he paused, “Is that your name?”
“What? No, it’s just a hat,” you answered, probably a little too snarky as you accepted his card from him.
He gave you a sideways smile, “So are you lucky, then?”
“No, quite the opposite, I’m probably the most unlucky person you’ll ever meet,” you laugh, handing him his clothes. “I’m manifesting.”
That earns you a laugh and you see his perfect white teeth, “Well, Lucky, I’m Sam.”
You’re pretty sure that was the moment you fell, and the rest was history. The two of you now spent as much time together as possible, talking, laughing, eating and of course watching movies on Sam's oversized couch. It had been three years of that, and much to your dismay, three years of falling desperately, hopelessly in love with your best friend. The line had never been crossed, neither of you daring to step over it. You tried your best to keep your feelings under wraps, and as far as you knew, his feelings for you were only platonic. He would ask you for girl advice frequently, making it blatantly obvious he wasn’t into you, yet, it was always you that he would choose to spend his free time with. 
It was hard when he would leave for tour, spending months at a time away from home. You would watch his house for him and water his plants, and spend most of the night talking on the phone until one of you fell asleep. But that was normal, and that's what best friends do. Right?
The rain has started to pick up now, hitting your windshield with enough force that you can’t see anything but the taillights in front of you. Thankfully you’re turning into his neighborhood and soon you’ll be out of this mess and snuggled down into your spot on his couch. 
The gravel crunches as you pull into his driveway, the rain coming down so hard you refuse to step out of the car. 
You
7:43PM: I’m here but I’m not getting out.
Sammy
7:44PM: What if I open the door and you run?
You
7:45PM: No I will get soaked. I’ll just wait.
You see him open his front door, leaning into the doorframe as the soft yellow glow of his lights illuminates his figure from behind. He then sends you a photo of the radar, showing that the rain will not be letting up anytime soon. You huff and shove your phone into your bag, tossing it over your shoulder and deciding that you will make a run for it after all. 
Your clothes are soaked through in seconds as you dash towards the door, an evil smile on his face as he shuts the door just as you approach.
“SAMUEL!” you shout, banging your wet fist on the wooden door.
The rain continues to soak you as you hear him laughing from behind the door. He opens it after only a few seconds, pulling you inside as he tries not to laugh. 
“Sam why did you do that! I am dripping wet!” you whine, “I look like a wet rat!”
“I know, I’m sorry, that was mean. I’ll go get you some dry clothes,” he says, dashing off to his bedroom. He returns with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt, tossing them into your hands with a smile. 
“You’re so annoying, I’ll be right back,” you say, stepping into the bathroom to strip out of your wet clothes. As you pull the shirt over your head you can’t help but to breathe in the scent of him, woodsy and fresh.
You toss your wet clothes over the edge of the tub, and pull your hair into a knot on the top of your head. As you rejoin him in the living room you can see that he has relinquished your place on the couch and put your favorite blanket there to wait for you. You fall into the spot and pull the blanket up over your still shivering body. 
“You good, lucky?” Sam asks, clearly feeling a little guilty.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just gotta warm up. So what is the verdict, what are we watching tonight?”
“I was thinking Interstellar,” he says, pulling the blanket down to cover your feet. It warms your heart a little that he cares. 
“I haven't seen that in so long, let’s do it,” you smile, watching him grab the remote. 
He gets up and turns down the lights, the room glowing amber from his salt lamp in the corner. You feel relaxed and happy to be here with him, listening to the rain patter down on the windows. He puts his feet up on the coffee table, letting you stretch yours across the length of the couch, your feet stopping just before reaching his thigh. 
The movie roars to life on the screen, but you can't seem to draw your eyes away from his profile, perfect and sculpted, and his hair hanging messily around his shoulders. 
His head snaps over to you, “What’s up, lucky?”
Shit, caught. 
“Nothing, sorry. I was just thinking,” you lie, turning your attention to the movie. You hear him huff a tiny laugh under his breath, settling further into the couch cushions. 
You find yourself continuing to sneak glances at him throughout the first part of the movie, though, he is so enthralled with it he doesn't seem to notice. His hand has drifted over top of your blanket, his fingers inching closer and closer to your legs with every passing second. You know it doesn't mean anything but just the thought has your heart racing. 
A particularly loud crash of lightning lights up the living room, the power flickering in response. You both turn to look at each other and shrug when all seems okay. It’s five minutes later when it happens again that you decide to speak. 
“I hope you have some candles?” you giggle. 
“I actually do, but I will have to look for them.”
The wind is howling quickly past the house, the sound of loose items on his patio tinkling across the concrete. You continue to watch the movie, feeling the tension grow in your chest not only from the characters on screen, but from the storm that is barreling on outside. As if he could pick up on your anxiety, you feel Sam’s hand grip the top of your leg. 
“It’s alright, just relax.”
You let out a deep breath and nod your head, swallowing back your nerves. The feeling of his hand on your leg has you worked up for a whole new reason. His hand is warm and firm and selfishly you never want it to leave. 
“Are you gonna miss me when I leave next week?” he asks, his voice soft as he turns to look at you. 
“Where exactly are you going again?”
“It’s mostly East coast, a little in the South, a few festivals. Kinda all over this time.” he answers, a sense of dread in his voice. 
“You aren’t gonna forget my souvenir, are you?” you tease, thinking back to the handful of ‘Lucky�� items he’s brought you back each time he leaves. 
His thumb starts to move over your leg, a wave of goosebumps taking over your body. 
“Of course not Lucky, it’s almost all I think about when I’m gone. I will admit it is getting harder and harder to find you something that I haven't already bought you.”
You feel a twinge of pain in your chest when you remember he is not thinking of you in the way you want him to. In the way you think of him. 
“S’okay Sammy, you don’t really have to. I was just playin’.”
“No way, it’s our thing,” he says, looking a little sad. 
You nod your head as you concentrate on the feeling of his thumb swiping against your skin, trying to tell yourself it doesn't mean the same thing to him. 
The movie reaches its climax, both of you on the edge of your seats as the power cuts out, leaving the two of you in the dark. You can hear nothing but the wind and rain outside, and the sound of each other breathing. 
“So about those candles,” you giggle. 
He pats your leg as he stands up, “I’m on it.”
“Gosh, I knew it was gonna get bad,” you say nervously.
He walks back into the room with an armful of various candles and a lighter, scattering the candles around the room. It’s sort of beautiful the way the candles are casting shadows onto the walls in the shapes of leaves and vines from his plant collection. 
He tosses the lighter onto the coffee table and sits back down on the couch, placing his hand back on your leg. You accept the small victory and try to stay focused on seeming unphased. 
“So now what?” he asks, staring at you with a playful smile. 
“Well, now… I guess we talk. Listen to the rain,” you offer. 
He nods for a second before letting a smirk cross his lips, “Or we could play a game…”
“What kind of game?”
“What if we did two truths and a lie?” he suggest, quirking a brow.
“You know, like, everything about me already,” you admonish.
“So tell me things I don’t know. Let me figure it out,” he laughs. “Don’t go easy on me.”
“Okay, well same for you then.” you quip. 
“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal, Lucky,” he says nodding his head. “Ladies first.”
“Okay,” you pause, trying to come up with something he wouldn't already know about you. “Math was my best subject, I hate the beach, and the first time I heard your band I thought it was a woman.”
He busts out laughing, shaking his head, “Okay so the lie has to be the last one.”
“Math was definitely my worst subject.”
“You thought Josh was a girl? That's hilarious actually. I can’t believe you’ve never told me that before.”
“Isn’t that the point of this game?” you smile. 
“Alright alright. I say that I am vegan because it keeps people from questioning my picky eating, I didn’t have a favorite color until I was 8, and I sometimes listen to Dua Lipa in the shower.”
“Sam, what?!” you laugh, “There's no way that two of those are true.”
“You gotta pick the lie, Lucky,” he grins, resettling both of your legs on his lap. 
“The lie is…that you didn’t have a favorite color until you were 8?”
“Yeah! Orange has always been my favorite. It’s hard thinking of lies,” he laughs, letting his hands move to hold your feet. His fingers start to massage into the muscle and you audibly groan at how good it feels. 
“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. 
You nod, thankful that in the darkness of the room he can’t see the blush on your cheeks. 
“Okay, um… I’ve never been in love, I didn’t have my first boyfriend until I was 16, and I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17,” you say, feeling a little nervous to move the game in a different direction. 
“Lucky, you didn’t get kissed until you were 17? How is that possible?” he asks, his face serious and confused. 
“Is that one you think is true?” you ask. 
“You tell me!” he says. 
“That one is true,” you admit. 
“So, which one is the lie? You’ve never been in love?” he asks, his fingers stopping their movement. 
“Yeah, that's the lie. I have,” you answer. 
“Who was it?” 
“It’s not a was, it’s an is,” you correct. 
“Lucky, who? Do I know him? I didn’t even know you were dating?” he asks in succession. 
“Your turn,” you smile. 
He lets out a sigh, “Alright, I didn’t have sex until I was 20, I ended my last relationship for no reason, I wish I didn’t have to leave next week.”
Your eyes bulge out of your head, “Uh…There is no way that you didn’t have sex until you were 20,” you say, thinking you’ve got him on this one. 
He shakes his head, “No, that is true.”
“Well I know you don’t want to go next week, so then…You ended your last relationship for no reason. That doesn’t seem like you Sam. For no reason?”
“That’s why it was a lie. It was for a reason,” he answers. 
“What was it?”
“I met someone,” he admits with a grin, “Your turn Lucky girl.”
Your mind starts to race. Who was it? When was it? He hadn’t been in a relationship since…
“I’ll miss you when you leave, I haven't had an orgasm from a man in a year, and I deleted my dating apps,” you say, taking a leap of faith. 
“Lucky, I hope to god the second one is a lie,” he gasps. 
“It’s um, true,” you confess. 
He drags a hand over his face and lets out a breath, “Is the lie that you will miss me,” he winks. 
“Not quite,” you giggle. 
“God, fuck, sorry I am still… I just can’t believe that,” he continues. 
“Your turn, quite making me feel bad about it,” you say, pushing him with your foot. 
He grabs it in his hand, massaging into the ball of your foot again. 
“Alright Lucky, I haven’t had sex with someone in about six months, my favorite thing is eating a girl out, and I have feelings for someone.”
Your mind goes blank, hearing those kinds of words fall from his lips has you feeling dizzy. 
“Fuck, Sam, you can’t just… say things like that, I–”
“Like what, Lucky,” he smirks. 
“Stop it, you’re trying to get me all flustered,” you whine. 
“Which one is the lie?” he asks, a shit eating grin on his face because he knows you’ll have to say it. 
You decided to say it, point blank. “Your favorite thing is eating a girl out. I know it’s not. You like to fuck.”
“Shit, Lucky…”
“So you do have feelings for someone?” you ask. 
“Yeah, I do. For a long time,”  he says honestly. “Your turn.”
This is it, you’re gonna tell him. “Sam, I’ve also had feelings–”
The high pitched squealing from your phones fills the room, interrupting your confession. Sam snatches his phone from the coffee table and looks at the screen. 
“Oh fuck, we’re under a Tornado Warning.”
“What?!” you shout, tossing the blanket off of you and standing to your feet. 
“Sit down, it’s fine. We get these all the time and they are like nothing.” he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you back down to sit next to him, significantly closer. 
“You’re not like, a little bit worried?” you ask.
“Nah, not yet.” he smiles. “What were you saying?”
You remember, of course you remember, but now it seems like that moment is gone. 
“I don’t remember,” you lie, watching as he settles his hand on your thigh. Your eyes glance down at it, then look back up to his. 
He opens his mouth to speak but is quickly interrupted by the sound of tornado sirens just starting up outside. 
“Sammy,” you cry, “I don’t think it’s fine.”
He swallows nervously and nods his head, “Yeah, yeah, this one may not be fine actually. Go um…Go get into my bathroom in my room. I’ll be there in a second. I need to grab a few things out of my car just in case.”
 You grab his hands as he starts to go, pulling his back in panic, “No, no no, please don’t leave me! I– Don’t go out there, please I’m scared,” you cry. 
He pulls you into his chest and wraps you in a hug, “I’ll be okay Lucky, I promise. Just two seconds. I’m not leaving you ever, I promise,” he whispers into your hair. 
You nod against him as he lets you go, rushing out the front door and to his car. You can see the flash of his headlights as he unlocks the doors and you gather your things and head to his bathroom. 
The sound of the sirens is deafening, your heart is pounding against your chest as you wait for him to come back, feeling like it is taking way too long. You can hear the wind howling and the rain pounding against the roof in the small dark bathroom. You sit down on the floor and lean against the wall, hearing the front door close and the rush of his footsteps as he meets you in the bathroom. 
“See? M’okay Lucky, but I need to grab a few more things and a candle, okay? I’ll be right back?” 
“Okay,” you breathe, feeling like you might pass out. 
You reach for your phone trying to pull up the radar, the news, anything, something to tell you what is going on outside but you have virtually no service. You feel like you might cry from the stress, and you’re nearly shaking with anxiety. 
Sam bursts into the bathroom with an armful of items, including a candle. He sets it on the sink and joins you on the floor, tossing you your blanket and a pillow from the couch. 
“Have you ever gone through a tornado before?” you ask, covering yourself with the blanket. 
“Not directly, but been through a couple of warnings. Maybe not this serious though,” he admits. He pulls the blanket tight around your front and rubs his hand across your back. “It’s okay Lucky.”
The sirens start up a second round of alerts, your phone alerts following suit with a second tornado warning. 
“Fuck,” you cry, a tear springing free from your eye. 
Sam slides closer, grabbing your hand and linking it together with his. It feels soft and warm and most importantly, incredibly right. 
“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I promise it’s okay. We are okay. We are safe in here. You know I wont let anything happen to you.”
“Aren’t we supposed to get in the bathtub or something?” you blurt out, remembering seeing it on TV once.
“Oh, yeah actually I think you’re right,” he agrees, not letting go of your hand as you move to stand. “It’s kind of small in there.”
“I don't care, we can fit, please come on,” you beg. 
“You want both of us to go in there?” he laughs. 
“Yes Sammy! I’m not leaving you!”
He grabs the pillow and tosses it into the tub, stepping inside with you and motioning for you to lay down. 
You both lower down into a laying position, though, since he is considerably taller you decide to let him position himself first. He lays on his back, and opens his arms to you. You are a bit hesitant considering the revelations that had come to light within the last hour but you were so scared you didn’t care how it might look. 
You lay next to him, resting your head on his shoulder, and letting him pull you further onto his chest. He wraps his arms around the two of you as you listen to the rapid beating of his heart. You’re sure yours is beating just as hard, if not harder. He feels good. Strong and sturdy and you find that you feel safe in his arms. 
You both notice that the sound of the wind has picked up, his arms holding you a little tighter as his lips rest against your head. 
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, and you feel all of your worry starting to melt away. 
You turn your head to look at him, both of you feeling each other like this for the first time. 
“Sam, earlier I was gonna say–”
Again your confession is interrupted by the sound of the wind roaring against the house, the sound of objects flying around outside and slamming against the house. 
“You think this is it?” you ask, feeling panicked all over again.
A loud metallic sound echoes across his front yard, causing both of you to grip each other a little harder. 
“Sammy,” you whine, feeling like your heart might just beat out of your chest.
“Look at me, Y/N,” he says, his voice deep and commanding. 
You look at him, and as your eyes meet he brings up his left hand to cup your cheek, pulling your face down to his and pressing his lips to yours. You are in shock as you feel the softness of his lips, never in a million years would you have guessed that was about to happen. 
You melt into him, bringing your hand up to his face and mirroring his actions. You kiss him back, letting him lead the both of you before you realize what is happening. 
“What are you doing?” you gasp, pulling away from him.
The wind is still roaring overhead and you can feel the pressure in the house change. 
“Distracting you!” he laughs, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the candle light. He presses his lips to yours again, and this time you know it's coming. You let your lips tangle with his, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth before pulling away. 
The wind starts to die down after about thirty seconds and he pulls away from you this time. 
“Shit, Lucky. I’m so sorry. I just needed to distract you. You were shaking like a leaf and– and I don’t know it was just the first thing I could think of. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to fuck things up, I know you don’t feel that way–”
“What? Sam, no…” you pause, brushing the hair out of his face, “I thought you didn’t…”
“Lucky are you crazy? I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you at the Vintage shop,” he breathes.
“You never said anything, I–”
“Neither did you,” he counters. 
“I was going to tell you during the game, I tried twice, I just–”
“Lucky…”
“I think the storm has passed,” you say, noticing the silence around you. 
“I know. It has, I’m just not ready to give this up yet. Wanted to be close with you like this for so long,” he admits. 
“We don’t have to go anywhere,” you answer.
“‘M gonna kiss you again, Lucky. I don’t think I can stop now,” he smiles. 
“Don’t.”
He crashes his lips to yours, his hands coming up to hold your head as his fingers grip into your hair. His tongue swipes against your lips, hot and wet and begging to taste you and you would be a fool to shut him out. You part your lips slightly, feeling the tip of his tongue brush yours, the taste of him exactly what you always imagined. 
A soft groan escapes his chest, the vibration rattling into your mouth. You feel his hips buck upward into yours, the evidence of his arousal firm against you. You gasp at the feeling, opening your eyes to find his still shut and his brow furrowed in pleasure. You move to bring your hand up to his face but hit your elbow against the side of the tub. His eyes open as you pull your lips from his, hissing in pain as his hand moves to cup at the side of your neck. 
His eyes pierce into yours for a moment as you see the words stringing themselves together behind his dark brown eyes. 
“Ca–Can I take you to my bed?” he asks, letting his pink tongue brush over his lips, desperate to taste you on his skin. 
You blink slowly as you look back at him, drinking in his perfect face. “Are you sure Sammy? I know you were just trying to calm me down.  I don’t want you to regr–”
“No, Lucky. Please. I want you. I’ll never regret this.”
You bite your lips together and nod your head, stifling back the smile on your lips at his confession. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” he smiles, swiping his thumb against your jaw. 
You nod shyly, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 
“C’mon then,” he says with a smirk, grabbing your hand to help you up and out of the porcelain tub.
Once you’ve found your footing on the cold tile floor he stands, joining you, never releasing his grip on your hand. You feel a swirl of nerves in your stomach just from the feeling of his hand in yours. He steps forward and pulls you behind him, leading both of you from his bathroom and into his bedroom. It smells like him, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of this moment a hundred times before. 
He stops, spinning you to face him and releasing your hand. His hand finds your hips and pulls you into him, as he drops his lips to hover just above yours. “Get in my bed, I’ll be back for you in just a minute,” he breathes, his lips barely dusting yours. 
He pulls away quickly and disappears down the hall, leaving you alone in his dark bedroom with the sound of the rain. You shimmy out of his boxers and crawl into his bed, nearly moaning from how comfortable it feels compared to the bathtub. You pull his thick duvet up to your chin and burrow down into his pillows, letting out a sigh and anxiously awaiting his return. 
You can hear his footsteps as he makes his way back into the room, a candle and a glass of water in hand. He places the candle on his dresser and deposits the water on his nightstand before pulling his t-shirt over his head and stripping out of his jeans. He crawls into the bed next to you, pulling you close to him with a sigh of relief. 
“You know, your bed is a lot more comfortable than the guest bed,” you giggle. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
You feel his hand drift under the hem of your shirt, resting on the warm skin of your stomach. 
He hums as he listens to you, nuzzling his head into the curve of your neck. “Was all part of my evil plan to get you into mine, Lucky girl. Always wanted you in here.”
You turn your head to look at him, hearing the wind blow the rain hard against the windows. His eyes meet yours, “Y/N?”
“Yeah, Sammy?”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he whispers. 
“Well,” you pause, “I was afraid to lose you. The typical cliche. I would have rather had you as my best friend than lose you if you didn’t feel the same. I didn’t want to ruin us.”
“Lucky, nothing could ruin us,” he breathes, pressing his lips to your jaw. 
You twist your body until you’re completely facing him, inching your hips closer to his. His hand drifts over your hip, his eyes growing wide as he realizes you shed his boxers. You watch him swallow, doing his best to keep his composure. 
“Lucky,” he whines, digging his fingertips into the plushness of your hips. “We don’t– we don’t have to do anything, you know… Just being here like this, with you…I’m happy, Lucky. Really fucking happy.”
You slide your hand up his stomach and over his chest, feeling him nearly shiver at your gentle touch. 
“What if we…didn’t do that…” you smirk, running your hand back down his stomach and letting your fingers dip into the top of his boxers. 
His hips jump in shock, and a smile crosses your lips. “Yeah? You want me Lucky?”
You press your hand forward, sinking further into his boxers until you can wrap your hand firmly around his length, “Yeah Sammy, I fucking want you.”
His hips jerk forward into your hand, a groan leaving his chest as you tighten your grip. 
“I need you Lucky. Wanted you for so long,” he whines.
His hands move up to cup your face, his kiss desperate as you start to stroke him. You can feel your arousal soaking through your panties with every passing second and you are positively aching for his touch. 
“Take this off for me,” he whispers against your lips, tugging at the fabric of your t-shirt.
Your hand slides out of his boxers, gripping into the hem of the shirt and pulling it over your head. 
“Goddamn, baby,” he breathes, his eyes scanning over your nude body.
You felt shy under his gaze, this was the most he had ever seen of you. You’d caught him sneaking glances once or twice but never like this. 
“You’re so beautiful Lucky, truly.”
You tug at the waistband of his boxers, willing him to join you in your nakedness. You pull your panties off and toss them to the floor as he removes his boxers, and finally you are on a level playing field. 
“I’ve thought of this a lot,” you giggle. 
“Me too, about every single night,” he confesses. 
“You wanna fuck me, Sammy?”
“No Lucky, I want to ruin you.” he answers, with a sternness in his voice. 
“I think I’d like that,” you smirk. 
He pushes up from the bed, hovering over you before dropping his head down to kiss his way down your body. He stops just above your groin, letting his tongue lap at the skin and sucking a kiss into your flesh. 
“Has it really been a year, Lucky?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly.
“I hate that, baby. I hate it and I love it,” he adds. 
“You love it?” you ask, looking down at him as he settles himself between your legs. 
“Love that no one else will give you that, but me. Not ever,” he says, letting his tongue swipe through your wetness.
You move his hair from his face, holding it at the back of his head as his tongue flicks over your clit. Your hips jut upward into his mouth, a whine falling from your lips. 
“You’re sweet Lucky, I like those sounds you’re making for me.”
He presses his lips to your clit, sucking the sensitive bud between them as you feel his fingers brushing against your entrance. At this point you’re unable to control the sounds leaving your mouth and it only seems to be spurring him on further. 
He flattens his tongue against you as he slips a finger inside, letting the pad of his finger massage into the place you’ve always needed him. Your hands grip at his hair, probably a little too tight, but he never falters, in fact he works harder. You feel a second finger slide into you, a wave of pleasure rushing over you so fast it nearly takes your breath away.
“Where’d you go? Where’s my girl?” he asks, pulling his lips away from you. 
“I’m here, fuck, I’m here,” you manage.
His fingers continue to work at you, sliding in and out, the wet sounds echo through the silent room. You feel his free hand come up to wrap around your wrist, holding you as he works you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the night. 
His tongue starts to move rapidly over your clit, the bundle of nerves growing increasingly more sensitive with every second. The pressure in your stomach is burning white hot and you feel a sheen of sweat starting to prickle at your skin. 
“Sammy, please,” you whine, needing him to get you there, and quickly. 
“Do you want to come for me, my Lucky? Come right on my face like I’ve always wanted? Will you do that for me, Lucky?”
His words unravel you instantly, your hips bucking up into his mouth as your orgasm rips through you like wildfire. 
“Just like that, Lucky, god you’re perfect baby, just like that,” he coos, letting his voice guide you through it. 
He presses a kiss to your thigh and you release your grip on his hair, now framing his head in a twisted mess. He crawls back up the bed, pressing his lips to yours as he groans into your mouth. 
“I’ve wanted that so fucking long, too long,” he says, letting his eyes meet yours. 
“I want you, Sammy,” you breathe into him, “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Shit, I think I would give you anything you want,” he says, reaching between the two of you. He grabs his length and drags it through your folds, the feeling alone causing you to arch up off of the bed. 
He pushes you back down onto the bed, laying his palm flat against your chest, “Easy, baby. You gotta stay still for me, okay?”
You nod quickly, pulling him closer to you, “I’ll be good.”
“Yeah? You gonna be my good girl? I always thought you would be,” he says, beginning to press himself to your opening. He slowly starts to inch himself inside of you, the burning sensation falling to the wayside as you feel him sliding deeper and deeper inside of you. 
“Like a glove, Lucky. I knew it, I fucking knew you were my girl,” he pants, finally bottoming out inside of you. 
“Move Sammy, please, please!”
He widens his knees and places his hand next to your head to support himself as his hips start to move. His free hand slides over your waist and up to your chest, palming at each of your tits as they bounce with every thrust into you. 
He feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and you can tell that the two of you were always meant to be with each other in this way. Your bodies responding to each other as if they were made to exist together. You loop an arm around his back, holding onto him as he rolls his hips into you, pulling him in tighter and closer than he could ever do on his own. 
“You’re even prettier like this, Lucky,” he pants, his long brown hair swaying with him. 
“You feel so fucking good Sam, please don’t stop,” you beg. 
A smile stretches across his face, “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you saying that?”
“I don’t know, fuck, a lot?” you answer, feeling your belly start to burn again. 
“Yeah, baby. A lot. Want you to give me another, okay?”
“Yes, yes I’m close, so so close,” you whine. 
A groan leaves his chest as he snaps his hips into your a little harder. You can tell he is close too, but neither of you want this to be over. You try to push it away as long as you can, but it's no use, and Sam can tell by the way you’re fluttering around him that you’re there.
“Sammy,” you cry.
“I know, baby, I know. Can I come inside you, Lucky?” he asks, his eyes growing desperate.
“Do–do you want to?” 
“So fucking bad, baby,” he admits. 
“Yes! Please, I– I want it,” you whine, falling into your release, and feeling every nerve in your body light up with red hot pleasure. You feel him tensing up as he spills into you, your name falling from his lips with every languid stroke. 
He’s beautiful in the candle light, his lips so perfectly round as his mouth falls into an ‘O’. You know you want to see that every single day that you can for as long as you live. His eyes are shut as he starts to come down, letting himself drink in the moment as you drink in him. 
His hips slow and he starts to catch his breath, his hand brushing across your cheek as he looks at you beneath him. He pulls out slowly, doing his best not to make a mess, collapsing into the bed next to you with a content sigh. You can feel him slowly leaking out of you, a welcome feeling that gives you a sense of pride. 
“I’m gonna go get you a towel,” he says slowly rolling out of the bed. 
“No, don’t,” you pause, “I kinda like it.”
He turns to look at you with a smirk, “Do you?”
You nod and bite at your bottom lip as if ashamed, “It’s all you, I want it all.”
“You want it all?”
“Every drop,” you answer. 
“Jesus, Lucky,” he breathes, “I think I already want to fuck you again if that’s even possible.”
“How about you just put that back where it belongs?”
“Yeah? You want me to–” he asks, confirming with you that you’re talking about the same thing.
“Please?” you say, dragging your finger over his lips. 
He takes a deep breath and rolls to his side, slowly bringing his hand back to your cunt to swirl through your mixed release. 
“Fuck me, baby. You are so, so wet…”
“It’s you,” you breathe. 
“S’us, Lucky…”
You feel his middle fingers swipe at your legs, collecting the cum that has spilled from your body onto his fingers. He looks at your with lust blown eyes as his fingers circle at your oversensitive clit, pulling a gasp from you before plunging his cum covered fingers inside of you. 
“Fuck,” you whine, feeling his lips crash into yours. 
It’s soft, gentle and warm as he kisses you, his thumb swiping lazily at your clit as he fucks the cum back into you. 
“I love you Sammy, I always have,” you confess. 
“Oh, Lucky,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours again as he pulls his fingers from inside you. 
Twenty four hours ago you would have never believed that you would find yourself twisted up in the sheets with your best friend. Both of you happy, completely and totally blissed out on each other in a mass of tangled limbs and spent bodies. But you’re here, finally, and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 
The rain has slacked off, just a gentle patter against the windows now. It’s the perfect cozy backdrop to fall asleep in each other's arms. You feel like you’re fairly close to that happening when you feel him turn his head to look at you. 
“You know I’m just… completely in love with you too, right Lucky?” he pauses, “And the thought of leaving you next week…I don’t know how I’m gonna do it. Not now.”
You feel your heart burst at his confession, tears welling in your eyes as you swallow back your emotions. 
“It won’t be so bad, Sammy…It won’t be any different, will it? Things will still stay the same as they always have?” you ask. 
“I think it will be completely different. Now I can call you and text you and Facetime you and do all the same stuff but this time I don’t have to pretend that I’m not completely head over heels in love with you. I can tell you that I spent the whole day thinking about you, but mostly, I can tell you that I miss you and that I love you, and that I count the seconds until I get home to see you,” he laughs, kissing your cheek. 
“Guess that makes two of us, then.” you smile, pulling his warm hand against your chest. 
You let your eyes flutter closed, relaxing into him for the first time with his arms tightly around you. Everything feels perfect and just as you feel like you’re starting to drift off you are blinded by bright light. 
“Oh shit! The power is back!” Sam says, rolling over to blow out the candle next to him. 
You sit up in the bed, pulling the duvet up to cover your exposed chest as your eyes try to adjust, “Well I was about to fall asleep, but I’m up now,” you laugh. 
Sam rolls to his side, propping himself up on his elbow as he drinks you in, thoroughly fucked and glowing, “We can turn the lights off and go back to what we were doing, or we can go finish our movie, your choice.”
“Should we finish the movie?” you ask, considering the options. 
“Depends…Do we get to take kissing breaks like a bunch of horny teenagers?” he laughs. 
“Yes, lots and lots of kissing breaks,” you giggle.
He grabs your shirt from the floor and tosses it to you as he pulls on his boxers, extending a hand to you to follow him back to the living room. You quickly redress yourself and take his hand, letting him drag you back to the couch, however this time he tackles you onto the cushions, never letting go.
You lay with your back to his chest, letting him pull you close to him as he resumes the movie where it left off. A lot had changed in such a short amount of time and you laughed at the thought of possibly skipping out on this night because of a storm. In fact, you forgot about the tornado all together.
“Should we check on things outside?” you ask.
“Mmm, we can in the morning, there’s no way I am moving. I am where I have always wanted to be.” 
You feel his fingers start to run through your hair, gently untangling the knots at the end, and letting it fall to your shoulder before he swipes it up again. You feel at home in his arms, and your eyelids grow heavy with every gentle pass of his fingers through your hair. Just as you’re about to fall asleep you turn to look at him and press your lips to his.
“I guess maybe I am lucky after all.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
xo, N
Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj @dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @builtbybrokenbells @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta
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paradiseprincesss · 2 days
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ok ok hear me out jonathan crane x batgirl fic? Omggg
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moonlight - jonathan crane x batgirl!reader
masterlist
notes: yeah so jonathan x batgirl reader is always made to be dark and i wanted to bring a new perspective to this trope. working hard every day for my pookies so i can feed u new fics all the time
summary: you and your secret lover have little rendezvous throughout gotham, but you both grow tired of the secret keeping and leading a double life. why not just run away together and leave your alter egos behind in the city of gotham?
word count: 3.1k (sigh, this was meant to be a drabble...)
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), kissing, secret & established relationship, reader and jon are both whipped af lol, FLUFF like...lots of it
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you sighed as you leant against the ledge of a terrace that peered out onto gotham city. it was nearly midnight, and here you were, stood alone on the highest floor of a parkade. well, not totally alone.
"thought i might find you here," a voice calls from behind you, "you look rather sad, darling."
turning around, you see jonathan in his usual suit and tie, along with the burlap scarecrow mask covering his face. he makes his way over to you, towering over you by a long shot with his tall height. he peers down at you, his strikingly blue eyes watching you through the little holes in his mask.
"i hate this city," you say solemnly, "everything is corrupt, and everyone has lost all their morals."
"that's gotham for you, sweetheart." he says matter-of-factly, now looking out onto the cityscape with you.
as the warm, summer breeze blows past both of you, neither of you speak. you stay silent at his remark, and he picks up on how your feeling. he knows you - he knows you very well. jonathan sighs, and for a minute, it was like just the two of you existed in this very moment in time.
"we'll move somewhere far away," he says softly, pulling you into his side as his hands rested on your waist, "i promise. i'll find us a quiet house in a quiet neighbourhood, and it'll be just us for the rest of eternity."
you look up at him lovingly, and he returned the same expression as he looked down at you. this wasn't how it was supposed to be - villains and hero's aren't meant to fall for one another. yet, here you were, wrapped in your so called "enemies" embrace. but you wouldn't change it for the world.
jonathan still recalls the day you first met, the memory ever so vivid inside of his mind. you were out fighting crime or whatever it was that you were doing that night, and he was out doing his typical, no-good, illegal activities. you know, fear-gassing and poisoning people; the usual. you'd stumbled across jonathan - or as you knew him back then, the scarecrow - finishing up what appeared to be a drug deal of some sort in an abandoned warehouse.
jonathan remembered the way his heart staggered when he saw you in your tight, slightly very skimpy, little latex bodysuit that you wore. the matching thigh high boots didn't help, and neither did that awfully pretty face of yours. he almost forgot you were batmans accomplice for a second, your appearance distracting him greatly.
"batgirl," he cooed mockingly, watching your every move, "so nice of you to finally join me."
"scarecrow," you sneered, "i've been looking for you."
"i'm flattered, darling. i really am." he says to you, making your blood boil.
"shut up-"
"and might i say, that latex suit is leaving very little to the imagination. if i knew this was how you would show up, i would've made plans to run into you sooner." he says, interrupting you as he cooed mockingly once more with hungry eyes trailing your body.
suddenly, you felt vulnerable and exposed under his scrutiny and lingering gaze. you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself as you felt his eyes lingering on your body.
"don't bother trying to run-"
"oh, trust me, i'm not running off anytime soon. my goodness, batgirl. aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" he cuts you off once more, stepping closer to you.
"...what?" you say with a dumbfounded tone, looking at him incredulously.
the two of you often laughed about the way you had met - the circumstances were a little odd, sure, but that just made the whole story of how you met even cuter. jonathan was never one to be so straight forward - until he met you. and you weren't one to fall so easily for a man, but that was before jonathan was in the picture. after your chance encounter with one another, you kept running into each other.
each time, you would threaten him, and he would flirt with you in retaliation. you'd tell him you had him corned for real this time, and he'd tell you that he had no complaints - he once said if you killed him then and there, he'd "die a happy man." the whole back and forth of you aggressively threatening him while he flirted with you went on for months, but eventually you cracked.
you didn't want to cave in, but once you saw what he looked like under that mask, you were folding like a goddamn lawn chair. the second you pulled the scarecrow mask off of his face, your jaw dropped. he was so attractive - and of course, he felt the same way from the moment he saw you. within a minute of the mask being pulled off his head, you were tangled up in his arms as he backed you into a wall, kissing you feverishly.
at first, there wasn’t a title to your “relationship,” but neither of you could give each other up. he needed you and you needed him. that was that. one night, as the two of you met up in secret once more, he asked you on a proper dinner date - which you agreed to, of course. it was romantic; he took you to a gorgeous, high-end restaurant that was classy and very...him. that same night, something shifted in the dynamic you two shared. it wasn’t just scarecrow and batgirl anymore - it was two people who were falling hopelessly in love.
from then on, the two of you were head over heels for one another, but both of you agreed to keep it a secret. when the sun was out during the day, you two were a normal couple; happily in love and holding hands as you walked down the streets of gotham. but by nightfall, you were strangers, no - enemies. it helped that nobody knew your alter egos, so during the day you two could be happily in love. but it was also a hassle to have to sneak around like two teenagers in love when the night crawled around.
his accomplices and the gotham rogues of the city couldn’t know that he was in love with batgirl, and you couldn’t have your accomplices or worse, bruce wayne, finding out you were devoted to the one person you shouldn’t be devoted to. i mean, it was past just a fling at this point.
it was love.
you two shared an apartment together (and a dog!). it was commitment at its finest. at first, the whole secret keeping and hush hush of it all was a little thrilling, but over time it got tiring. why couldn’t you just be happy? why did it have to be this way? you didn’t want to hide it anymore.
as you stood in the empty parkade with jonathan, you suggested an idea that you had been thinking about for a while now.
“why don’t we just run away?” you ask softly, coming back to reality as you looked up at the man who you adored dearly.
“what, like right now?” he asked, watching you through the scarecrow mask.
“what’s stopping us?” you asked before answering your own question, “well, your job actually. never mind, i’m being irrational.”
“i could find a job as a psychiatrist practically anywhere,” he shrugged, “there’s a shortage of doctors in every city.”
“that is true,” you say back, and his hand gripped your waist tighter now, “but what about my schooling?”
“you can transfer, can’t you?” he asked casually.
“…well, yeah.” you say with a small chuckle. you were surprised he wasn’t opposed to such a reckless decision, he was usually the rational one. “i just thought you wouldn’t be so…i dunno, okay with it, i guess.”
“don’t you know how much i love you, moonlight?”
moonlight.
that was his nickname for you. something about it was so saccharine, so sweet but so fitting at the same time. jonathan thought it suited you perfectly because you were his moonlight. beautiful but sensual. your love was magnetic and addictive - magical, almost. just like how the moon brought a sense of calm and comfort to many, you brought a sense of calm and comfort to jonathan.
“you know i love you just as much,” you say softly, intertwining your hands with his, “the most, actually.”
“impossible,” he scoffs playfully, "...let’s runaway. leave our lives behind.”
you smile sweetly at jonathan, a love drunk expression painted on your face - he was truly the only man you had eyes for. “and abandon our…hobbies?” you ask softly.
“i’m willing to leave it all behind,” he nods, “as long as it means i get to have forever with you.”
for a moment, you thought you were going to cry from his sentimental confession. you thought there must’ve been something in the air tonight, but he was also never short of showing you all his love and affection. you stared up at him speechlessly as tears welled in your eyes from the romantic moment shared between the two of you. just two lost souls tailor made for each other.
“moonlight,” he whispered, “you and me, forever.”
“you and i, forever.” you whisper back, and he kissed you softly.
after breaking apart from the kiss, the two of you head back to your shared apartment. neither of you slept that night, and jonathan took the following day off of work. together, you spent the next twenty four hours searching for a new home far, far away. next came the plane tickets, and suddenly, you had bags on top of bags stacked in the departure gate.
“i can’t believe you quit your job for this.” you laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the two of you lined up to board the plane. “and your…side hustle.”
“i have a new job waiting for me in florida,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head, “and you have your new university waiting for you.”
“this is true.”
the flight was uneventful, you fell asleep on him and he had awoken you when the plane landed. the following week went by in a blur, the two of you moved into your new beach front properly in key biscayne. only fifteen minutes away from miami, it was convenient for jonathan to get to his new job, and close for you to drive to your new university where you continued your studies.
he’d given up being scarecrow, and you’d given up being batgirl.
the two of you disappeared without a trace, and all that you left behind was a note on both your behalves saying you were leaving forever, and that you didn’t want to be found.
“this place is so beautiful. i’m so glad we’re out of gotham, i was getting sick of that city.” you say softly, crawling into bed wearing nothing but your lacy, silk slip.
jonathan opens his arms for you - an invitation to come cuddle, and you gladly accept. “i know,” he whispers, “it’s like paradise. but anywhere is paradise with you, moonlight.”
“you softie.” you giggle, as he started to pepper kisses down your neck, making you shiver.
“i love you,” he whispered against your neck, nipping softly at the delicate skin, “let me show you how much i love you.”
you agreed to it, feeling needier than ever. the warm, summer breeze blew through the half-open sliding door of your balcony. the night was young, and the waves crashed over the shoreline softly as the moon hanging high with the stars illuminated your dark bedroom. it was like something out a romance novel - secluded and romantic.
“moving here was the best decision i’ve ever made,” he said softly, slowly slipping the straps of your lace off of you, “i’d do anything for you - but i think you know that, don't you?”
“please, baby,” you whisper, letting him undress you sensually, “i’m forever yours. my heart is in your hands.”
“i think this is what heaven on earth feels like,” he decides, laying himself down between your legs as he slowly started to drag your matching, lacy panties down, “you’re my favourite.”
before you could spew out any more romantic, poetic nonsense, his face was buried between your legs. a soft gasp left your lips, and your back arched instantly as he licked a long, fat stripe up your folds. the only two sounds to be heard in that room was your wetness as he lapped up your soaking cunt, and the waves crashing onto the shore. two sides of the same coin, in an odd but beautiful way.
perhaps jonathan was right - this did feel like heaven on earth.
finally, no more hiding. no more pretending. no more double life. the night was yours, and you allowed it to take you over. for once, you could scream his name all you wanted into the darkness. you were letting him devour you the way you so desperately wanted him to every single time you’d see him prowling around the streets of gotham. every single time you had to pretend he was a stranger.
but jonathan wasn’t a stranger - he was yours.
the feeling of his tongue on your cunt, licking and nipping softly, caused you to moan out his name softly. he continued to leave teasing little kisses all over your soaking pussy, and when he ate you out like a starved man, your legs were starting to shake.
“oh my god,” you gasp, “i-i’m close.”
“you’re divine.” he mused against your cunt as he continued to eat you out skillfully, his tongue reaching all the right places.
all you could get out were breathless moans and cries before you were creaming on his face, and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, nipping, and kissing every part of your pretty pussy until you had to physically push his head away from your slick coated thighs and trembling legs.
“i could eat you out forever,” he sighs, looking down at you as he started to pull his plaid pyjama pants down, “you taste so sweet, like candy.”
you blush and roll your eyes playfully at his comment, trying to ignore the way it went straight to your head. he pushed you back onto the pillows of the bed softly, and lined his throbbing cock up with your slick folds. you both let out breathless moans when he bottomed out inside of you, and your hands reach up to his shoulders as he started to thrust himself in and out of you.
the stretch was intoxicating, and it felt like his cock was made for your cunt. as the head of his cock continued to brush up against that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes started to roll back into your head from the immense pleasure your boyfriend was giving you right now. your plush walls clenched down on his veiny cock, and both of you were losing yourself in a mixture of moans and overwhelming pleasure.
"you feel brand new every time i fuck you," he said lowly, "jesus - fuck, you feel so good."
his praise had your cheeks burning, but it also had your toes curling and your dripping core clenching on him. as you attempted to look straight into his eyes, you found yourself getting lost in the pools of his icy blue irises. it was almost like he brought you clarity. actually, scratch that - he did bring you clarity.
"i'm, mm, a-already close," you moan as he looked down at you hungrily, "f-fuck, so deep."
he brought your legs up over his shoulder swiftly, pounding your cunt at a deeper angle now. you swore for a minute you were seeing stars as he plowed himself in and out of your slick walls, and you were starting to feel absolutely, positively cockdrunk.
"beautiful," he spoke lovingly, his tone both sweet and saccharine, "cum for me."
the band in your lower stomach snapped as he spoke so softly to you, and your pussy tightened up around his fat cock, causing him to groan at the feeling. your eyes rolled back once more as your legs were trembling over his shoulders, and his name was falling from your lips like you were worshipping him. you did worship him - he was your god.
"thaaaat's it," he groaned, "i need- fuck- i need to fill you up. i need to watch my cum drip out of your pretty pussy."
his words were starting to drive you insane. if you hadn't already lost touch with reality after that heart-stopping orgasm he just gave you, you sure were now.
"please f-fill me up, p-pleeeeease," you begged, whining towards the end of your sentence as your mind started to go blank with the way he was fucking your tight, soaking hole. "i love y-ou, jon-"
as he watched your face twist in pleasure, he couldn't believe how pretty you looked all fucked out from him. your staggered, broken, breathless pleas had his cock twitching. finally, as you told him you loved him, he couldn't hold himself back from filling you up any longer. he almost whispered as his cum spilled into you, painting your walls white as he let every last drop of his seed fill you.
his hips stilled, and your eyes fluttered open as the room went quiet. the only sounds to be heard was the heavy breathing coming from both of you. jonathan smiled sweetly at you, letting out a content sigh before pulling himself out of you gently. you winced slightly at the feeling, but he welcomed you with open arms as you snuggled into his embrace.
quietly, you listened to the splashing water on the shoreline outside of your balcony. the waves were calm today, and the night was warm. the palm trees that surrounded your small, secluded home on the beach brought a sense of tranquility. the both of you let the silence between the bliss linger for a moment longer before jonathan spoke up softly.
"i love you, moonlight." he whispered softly, playing with your hair.
truth be told, jonathan didn't think he could fall any deeper for you than he already had. he just couldn't stop; everything about you made the usually reserved and rather cold ex-con turn soft. you were his night sky, stars, planets and everything in between.
jonathan never knew that he could have moonlight in his hands - until the night he held you.
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newtonsheffield · 2 days
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Can you just imagine Anthony waking up the first night during his and Kate’s honeymoon and she’s still there!!!??? I feel like he would just start crying and be so surprised that he was so worried about her not being there when he woke up.
Anthony would be absolutely delighted when he woke up the morning after their wedding night and Kate’s tucked against his side, her hair tickling his nose.
He’d planned to tell her he loved her, that first night they spent together and Kate left before he woke. He’d thought she regretted it then, what came to pass between them, and now he knows that wasn’t true but it’s nice to feel her breathing gently against his neck. He leaned back a little to watch her and she let out a soft noise of discontent, moving closer to him again.
“Stay still, Anthony.”
Anthony chuckled, leaning down to kiss her quickly. “Good morning, viscountess.”
Kate opened one eye, a small smile making its way onto her face. “Good morning.” She chuckled, reaching out to touch his unruly hair. “You look handsome in the morning. Your hair gets rumpled.”
Anthony grinned at her, “Well, I had someone’s fingers in my hair last night.” He paused for a moment. “Are you alright? After last night, I mean.”
Kate shook her head and Anthony’s heart leapt in his chest before she sighed, smirking. “I’m cold. Someone wouldn’t let me dress again last night.”
Anthony laughed, feeling so much lighter than he had even yesterday as he rolled over until he supported his own weight with his hands on either side of her head. He leaned down to nip at her neck and the catch of her breath shivered down his spine. “Oh but then it would be so much harder for me to show you what you missed when you left me in the garden that morning.”
Kate moaned, her fingers twisting in his hair again. “I suppose that might warm me up.”
“Oh it would, it really would.”
“Hurry up then.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
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sanaexus · 2 days
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social's as bachira's girlfriend
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-liked by kuniisuke, chigi.who and 117.4k others
yourusername: i caught the l-o-v-e
tagged: megubachi
isaichii: yeah and i caught the f-l-u ↳yourusername: don't be so dramatic
isaichii: PHOTO CREDITS WOULD BE NICE SINCE I WENT OUT 2 IN THE NIGHT TO TAKE THIS STUPID PICTURE ↳mikka.kaiser: it's actually 2 in the morning ↳isaichii: shut 😭the😭actual😭fuck😭up😭 ↳yourusername: mb bro
yourusername: the photographer (and part time bachira lover) behind this amazing beautiful picture was none other than isagi yoichi ↳yourusername: that enough photo credit for you? ↳isaichii: yes also tfym part time bachira lover that's weird ↳megubachi: loving me is weird? ☹ ↳isaichii: nO NO NO WDYM OFC NOT I'M A FULL TIME BACHIRA LOVER ↳megubachi: I LOVE YOU TOO ↳yourusername: sigh
megubachi: we're so cute ↳yourusername: you're so cute ↳megubachi: you got me giggling blushing kicking my feet curling my toes twirling my hair 😝 ↳hiyori: what the actual
reo.miikage: did this mf fr take a wine glass outside to take this picture ↳megubachi: I DIDN'T MEAN TO ↳reo.miikage: how do you accidently take a wine glass outside ↳yourusername: he's js a girl 🎀🎀 ↳reo.miikage: why did i even ask
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-liked by kunii.suke, chigi.who and 132.6k others
yourusername: meet my boyfriend and my boyfriend's boyfriend
tagged: megubachi, isaichii
isaichii: we're js two bros tfym boyfriend? ↳megubachi: not what u said last night 💔🤬😢 ↳isaichii: sorry baby
karasu_tabito: biggest surprise in this post that you went to the gym w those two ↳yourusername: BYE UR SO RUDE I HOPE U KNOW EITA LIKES ME BETTER ↳karasu_tabito: @/eita.otoya is this true 💔💔 ↳eita.otoya: i'm sorry i didn't want you to find out this way 💔💔 ↳karasu_tabito: wow 💔💔 ↳eita.otoya: WAIT I JS READ HIS COMMENT NO WAIT FR DID Y/N GO TO THE GYM?? ↳yourusername: bye i hate you
nikkoki: who the fuck took the second pic 💀 ↳yourusername: that wasn't me i swear it was @/chigi.who ↳chigi.who: NO BC I WALK INTO FIX MY HAIR AND I SEE THAT WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO ↳hiyori: WELL U SURE AS FUCK WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO TAKE A PICTURE?? ↳julian.loki: you should have joined them ↳yourusername: BEO??
user1: the way loki came, told chigiri he should have join with isagi and bachira while they were pissing and then left without any further explanation is just such a loki thing to do ↳julian.loki: i'm a man of few words
megubachi: i swear ily ↳isaichii: who? ↳yourusername: who? ↳megubachi: YOU OFC UR SUCH A SILLY LIL GOOF BALL
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-liked by yourusername, isaichii and 142.6k others
megubachi: believe it or not i do love y/n and isagi doesn't always third wheel us
tagged: yourusername
yourusername: SROP ILYSM I'M GONNA KISS YoU ↳megubachi: do it no balls ↳shiidoryu: she would have balls but you keep kicking them ↳hiyori: FOR FUCKS SAKE MATE YOU DON'T NEED TO DESCRIBE SOCCER LIKE THAT ↳mikka.kaiser: FOR GODS (me i am god) SAKE IT ISN'T SOCCER IT'S FUCKING FOOTBALL ↳yourusername: SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP I GOT A POST ALL TO MYSELF AND YALL HAVE TO RUIN IT
nikkoki: i thought this was a y/n appreciation post what's up the the third picture? ↳yourusername: i'll just have to accpet the fact that isagi will always be there ↳megubachi: ily 🥰 ↳yourusername: ihy 🥰
user2: fuck romeo and juilet i want what these bitches have ↳user3: no bc fr both of them seem so happy despite the questionable moments the pictures were taken
rin.itoshi: that outfit ruined my entire halloween party btw ↳user4: WAIT WHAT RIN THROWING A PART?? ↳yourusername: srop it's been like 9 months since then ↳rin.itoshi: and i'll never move on from him twerking in a maid costume. ↳megubachi: I HAVE A GOOD ASS OK STAFU ↳kuniisuke: w h a t .
nagi.seishiro: so the fourth picture is the reason why he couldn't come over to my house the next day ↳yourusername: sorry not sorry
shiidoryu: when's our sleepover y/n 💔💔 ↳yourusername: OMG COME OVER TODAY !! I'LL BRAID UR HAIR !! ↳megubachi: my monster says no ↳yourusername: tell your monster to fuck off ↳megubachi: he didn't like that ↳yourusername: i'm sorry for the bad and for telling him to frick off
user5: context behind the last picture? ↳yourusername: he tried creeping up on me i got scared shitless so i kicked his lower titties, he fell bc it hurt sm i i fell bc i was laughing so much ↳hiyori: did you js call his balls lower tittes ↳yourusername: yes and? ↳kenyu.yukimiya: SAY THAT SHIT W UR CHEST AND ↳reo.miikage: BE YOUR OWN FUCKING BESTFRIEND ↳megubachi: SAY THAT SHIT W UR CHEST ↳megubachi: that fr hurt, the kids inside my balls didn't like it ↳yourusername: well deserved<3
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bye this was so fun to write but i dont rlly feel it was very girlfriend like but it was it is
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sourpatchys · 2 days
Text
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•Shigaraki Falling for You•
A series of events following Shigaraki Tomura falling for you. (Reader is not in the league of villains)
Warning: protective/stalker behavior (potentially Soft Yandere?) and Self deprecating thoughts (nothing major)
Reader: written with a female reader in mind, but can be read as gender neutral
It’s going to be a slow process
The most slow burn of all slow burns
Truly he wishes he could just kill you, your stupid face and equally as stupid personality could fuck right off into dust.
He thought it was a fluke— any male his age would get a little flustered at the sight of someone as attractive as you are.
But then the feeling never stopped and he completely lost sight of himself
He’s never had the desire to get to know someone— you can’t really blame him for being so confused
For awhile he completely locks himself away from you, refusing to look at you or acknowledge you whatsoever (though he still found himself lurking around in your vicinity)
Once that fazes out he’s just angry.
Angry at himself, angry at you and angry at the world
You’re stuck to his brain in such an alarming way— he honestly thought it was someone’s quirk being used against him, like it was some sick joke
He hated it. He hated the way you made him feel, and he hated himself for feeling
No matter how hard he tried to fight it (albeit not very hard) he couldn’t find it in himself to hate you
His anger quickly turned to infatuation
He needed to know more about you, he needed to understand why your presence kept pulling him in
You were nice to him when he would come by the coffee shop you worked at
You gave him a smile so genuine it made him want to smile back
He found himself following you home some nights, just too see what route you would follow on certain days
This little routine of his made him wonder how you stayed so upbeat
Your customers were rude and entitled
Some of them would let their hands linger on you when you gave them change
Some of them gave you a hard time just to see you get upset
One guy in particular had tried to get you fired, making up more lies than shigaraki had ever heard.
He saw you cry for the first time in months in your apartment that night
Without really thinking about it, he tracked that guy down and killed him so you’d never have to see his face again
He didn’t know that killing that one guy would start a frenzy in himself
Now whenever someone got angry with you, whenever they couldn’t see that you were just doing your job—
He took it into his own hands to shut them up.
It wasn’t his most calculated idea, it wasn’t long before the police started to watch the area, and soon after more hero’s were out on patrol
He couldn’t really find it in himself to care though
One off handed comment from Dabi changed his whole ideals around in an instant
“If you keep going to her she’s just going to get in trouble”
It was a joke, he was making fun of him for taking so much time out of his day just to watch you exist
But it flipped a switch in his head
You had to come to him instead.
The more he thought about it the more he didn’t want you working at that crusty old coffee shop at the corner of town.
He didn’t want you dealing with those disgusting civilian creeps anymore 
The only safe place for you to be was with him
At this point he still hadn’t put the pieces together, he still wasn’t sure why you made him feel the way that he did.
That didn’t stop him from stumbling on your doorstep pretending he got mugged though
You were surprised to see him, he could see it in the gleam of your eyes
He wasn’t even sure if you knew who he was. Which he supposed would make things easier
And you didn’t know who he was— all you knew is that he was one of your regulars and that he needed your help
He had asked you not to call the police, he claimed he didn’t want any trouble with law enforcement— that he just wanted some water and a place to sit down
You were obviously on edge, scared, confused— all things he expected. But you let him in.
He had walked to your house on his own, letting himself get soaked in the storm outside. He wanted to seem believable, he wanted you to give him the attention he craved so badly
Your apartment smelled like coffee and sugar cookies, a pleasant smell he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget. It was the smell of you— a smell you carried with you wherever you went.
In the back of his mind he made sure to note that he needed to get you a wax warmer, he never wanted to go without this scent. He was starting to crave it.
You were patient with him, getting him water, checking his head for bumps and his body for bruises
You were like his own personal guardian angel
He took you that night
Not a trace of your life left behind, empty floors and bare walls. Not even your scent remained.
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appleblueberry-pie · 2 days
Note
Can I ask Yandere Miguel with an S/o who isn’t interested in him at all, but who’s in love with his brother Gabriel?
Half-Way to True Love
You don't think this was supposed to be a friendly platonic lunch.
The more you ate the very expensive food at the expensive table with the expensive view, smelling his expensive cologne across the table, the slower you chewed in nervousness and realization. Has he been trying to impress you the whole time?
You finished your mouthful of nicely flavored and smooth mashed potatoes and looked up at Miguel. He was already staring down at you with that look in his eyes. Love. Something you didn't feel for him but you know he felt for you. You tried to ignore your mind and attempted to convince yourself it couldn't be what you thought it was.
"How's the food?"
You nod silently and put down your fork to pick up your glass of champagne. "It's pretty good. I like it a lot." His shoulders relax and he finally cuts his first piece of steak. "That's good. The first time I came here, I knew it would be a great place for a date."
Date echoed through your head. Your face immediately dropped into one of disappointment. Miguel has honestly been pushing you to the edge for longer than a month. Constant pleas and begs to be with you in ways you didn't enjoy and even though this was one of his most tamest attempt, this was enough to get you to snap. "Miguel." He looked up at you and saw your face, his own dropping at your reaction.
"Why did you bring me here?" His face also set into one of stone as he put down his fork and knife. "Well, I wanted to do something nice for the both of us. I know both of us are equally tired from the constant piles of work we have to finish at Alchemax, I know you juggle a lot of tasks after work and you could definitely use a break like me. So, I took it upon myself to bring you here as a way-"
You look both ways around the restaurant to make sure no one was watching before leaning over to hiss at him quietly, yet the most angry you've been this entire week. "I told you a million fucking time's I'm not into you, Miguel!! I keep telling you constantly, I. don't. want. you. I don't want to date you, I don't want your money, I don't want your time, I don't want any fucking thing from you." You pick up your purse and furiously dig around for your wallet so you can hopefully just pay and leave. "You're so fucking lucky I don't toss my plate in your fucking face, Jesus."
As surprised he was of your outburst, he knew every reason and then some for why you don't want to be with him. "Why do you want Gabriel?" You look up at him in confusion and frustration. "I'm not doing this with you right now." Where the hell is your wallet??? "Why do you want my brother? What does he have that I don't? I have everything he doesn't, but you continue running to him like he's the best thing you could ever ask for."
"He's the 'best thing I could ever ask for' because he doesn't try to trick me into dating him, doesn't follow me when I leave work, doesn't stalk me, doesn't interrogate me on every single action I make and doesn't annoy the shit out of me."
You give up once you realize Miguel might have stolen it again. He does this every time he takes you to lunch so you don't find a way to leave. Not without talking to him first. "Give me my wallet." He purses his lips. "No." "This is why."
"Please, just let me-" "You've done enough. Just please give me my wallet before I scream."
He shakes his head. "You wouldn't." You raise your eyebrows.
A silents is born. Just the sound of soft clattering from forks meeting plates fills the air. The soft music does nothing to calm you.
Finally, Miguel sighs and takes it out of his pocket and sets it on the table. As soon as you grab it, he sets his hand over yours.
You look up at him and he gives you a desperate look.
".......have a good night."
The cycle is bound to repeat tomorrow.
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rosescarlette · 2 days
Text
-> Just nothing but zhongli being a girl dad✨
-> Zhongli being the type of dad that's absolutely overprotective of his daughter, he wouldn't let any guy come close to his daughter. Always protecting his precious gem.
-> One day you even found Zhongli in a ridiculous state with your daughter which you couldn't help but laugh about.
"Daddy! Can we play princesses and tea parties please??"
"Hm. I am still in the middle of finishing something."
"Aw.. :("
Seeing your daughter's sad face he couldn't refuse.. so he decided to play for a while. He spoke with his signature smile.
"Alright. I will play then. But only for an hour."
"Really?! Yay! I'll go get my dollies and stuff!!"
He heard her footsteps running to her room to grab her stuff. He couldn't help but give a hearty chuckle.
"Alright I've got my things! But.. there's something missing.."
"Hm? Missing? Like what?"
"This party was only for princesses but you're a guy!"
"O-oh is that so?.."
"But that's okay! We can dress you up!! Follow me!!"
You were out shopping for stuff while your daughter went to your bedroom and opened your closet. Zhongli was beside her all along.
"Why are we in your mother's room? She would be quite mad at us if we broke anything."
Your daughter just ignored him completely and was still searching in your closet until she found a pretty dress.
"This should do!! Look at it!! It's so pretty! Mom sure has pretty dresses!"
"Hm. Ah yes I remember this piece.. I've gift-"
"No time for a lecture!! We need to get you ready for the tea party!! Now put this dress on!"
"This dress?"
"Yes!"
"But this is your mot-"
"Please put it on! Am sure it fits you"
"Alright. Let's just hope your mother doesn't find me in this state."
After a while you came back home and was quite surprised to not find zhongli in his usual place. But there was a lot of noise coming from your daughter's bedroom, you decided to check out what it was.
When you entered the room without warning.. you were so flabbergasted when you saw zhongli in your favorite dress and he wore makeup such as lipstick blush. However the make up was odd. It was quite weirdly done, that's when you noticed that your daughter had done a makeover to her dad! The lipstick marks were still present on her hands and zhongli knew how to keep make up well. They both were having a very fun time until you suddenly asked a question.
"ahem?"
"Why is daddy in my dress? And why are there make up marks on your hands?"
You asked your daughter who was frozen .
"oh hello!- uh-"
"It's alright darling. We were playing princesses and tea parties."
He said while taking a sip out of his tea while speaking as a lady.
"uh huh.."
"Yes!! Isn't daddy pretty??"
When you looked at zhongli you died out laughing.
"Ah yes daddy does look pretty doesn't he? Hm?
"Yes. Tea parties are nice."
-> Like I said again he also hates when some boy likes his daughter. How dare that person!
"Dad I am officially a grownup!!"
"HUH?! WHEN. HOW. WHERE."
"Calm down zhongli. I mean she's nearly a teenager now-"
"I TOLD YOU DEAR! ITS THE CHICKEN. NOW WHAT-"
"I got a letter!"
Both of you were confused.
"Whats the letter supposed to mean?"
"It means someone loves me mom!"
"Is it a love letter my dear?
"Yes!! I-"
"Who's the guy."
"Zhongli cool down it's just a letter."
"My absolute dearest. I just want to talk to that guy."
"Zhongli you're out to kill him aren't you?"
"..."
"Answer the question."
"..."
"Zhongli?"
"Yes."
"Come on love it's just a letter! Come on-"
"No."
"I am not gonna talk you out of this am I?"
"Yes."
"Zhongli no killing."
"Ok dearest."
"..."
"But you didn't say not to hit him with a meteorite."
"ZHONGLI NO-"
-> let's just say it was a chaotic night.
---------------------------------------------------
Note: LEMME KNOW IF YOU NEED A PART 2. ILL TRY TO MAKE A PART 2 IF I AM NOT SO BUSY WITH ACADEMICS!!
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beombear13 · 14 hours
Text
Same Time
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genre: smut
warnings: I don’t really know and it’s late so I’ll probably update this later. It is not proofread so you will see Sam in here cause I was half asleep😭
a/n: another late night post.. what am I doing? Enjoy! 1.8k!
You have two boyfriends: San and Wooyoung. Originally, it was you and San but he told you how desperate his best friend, Wooyoung, was for a good fuck. You were up for him, not because you wanted another man’s dick in your pussy, but because you wanted to help San and his friend.
After the supposed “one good fuck,” Wooyoung started coming over more.. and fucking you more. After many, and when I say many, I mean it, fucks, Wooyoung asked San to join the relationship.
After a lot of convincing from San and some minor convincing from Wooyoung, you agreed. And it turned out to be the best decision you ever made. Wooyoung was a great addition to your relationship.
He was nice, treated you right, fucked good, and cared for you. Yes, San did all of those, too, but it felt nice to get more and more. Call it greed if you want, who cares? It’s San and Wooyoung.
Tonight, the three of you were just sitting on the couch and watching TV after a long day of going out. Wooyoung’s head was lying on your lap while San was sitting beside you, his arm around you. You were playing with Wooyoung’s hair, too immersed in the show you were watching to know what Wooyoung was planning right in front of you.
Wooyoung looked up at San and San looked back down at him. They both smiled at each other. Wooyoung picked up his phone, texting San about his filthy plan.
Wooyoung: i have a plan
San: A plan for what, Woo?
Wooyoung: you’ll see. Follow my lead, k?
San: Whatever you say !
Wooyoung sat up, which really didn’t catch your attention. He moved a lot which was normal. He gave San a look to just wait. Wooyoung pressed his lips against yours, making you grunt in confusion and shock at the sudden movement.
You eventually melted into the kiss, getting rougher by the second. Wooyoung searched a little for San’s hand before San gave it to him. Wooyoung places San’s hand under your skirt. Just wearing panties since you took off your the shorts you had under them when you got home.
The little grunts you let out as San started to touch you through your panties made Wooyoung laugh into the kiss. Pushing your hips up to meet San’s made him just want to rip your clothes off. But he controlled himself. Instead he pushed your panties out of the way and pushed a finger into your already soaking wet pussy.
“Ooh. You’re already wet, baby? Just got started.” San raises an eyebrow and smiles at you. Wooyoung kissed down your jaw and nibbled on your neck. “You see this Wooyoung?” Wooyoung pulled away from your neck and looked at San as he pulled his finger out. It was covered in your wetness.
Wooyoung chuckled cockily, “are we that good, Y/N, huh?” Your breath was heavy as you looked into Wooyoung’s eyes. When you were about to speak, San plunged 2 fingers back in and rubbed your clit. You gasped out, furrowing your eyebrows. Wooyoung loved to watch your face change.
He shook his head as to how desperate you were. He returned to your neck, sucking more marks onto your skin. He went lower but was eventually met with the neckline of your cotton white shirt.
San roughly pulled up your shirt for Wooyoung, pinching your right nipple while slowing down his fingers. Wooyoung latched his mouth onto the other one, gently sucking. You desperately looked at San as the pleasure was become too much. He pecked your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.
“I’m gonna- gonna cum, Woo. San, please. Let me c-cum.” You gasped out. They ignored your pleas. You threw your head back and rutted your hips to San’s fingers. “Please.” You squeaked out.
“San. Should we let her cum? Has she been good enough today?” Wooyoung spoke as he detached from your nipple, now rubbing it. San chuckled.
“I don’t know, Woo. What do you think? It was your plan.” San spoke, smirking to Wooyoung. They knew what they were doing. They were talking to add more length of not letting you cum. Trying to see if you can hold it long enough.
“I guess we can let her cum. It wont be the last. You know that don’t you, Y/N?” Wooyoung bit his lip at your state. You nodded repeatedly, about to cum.
“Y/N, baby, we’ve talked about this. You have to use your words.” San said. You moaned loudly as your stomach churned in pleasure. “Come on. Say it, Y/N. You can do it, we know you can.”
“Yes! Ah, yes! I-I know!” You squeaked out. The overwhelming pleasure causing you to let out a couple tears. You came all over San’s fingers. “A-ah!”
“Ah, good girl.” Wooyoung laughed at you while sitting up with his knees on the couch. “Don’t cry, baby. It’ll all be ok.” He licked his lips. San pointed down to your clothes as a way of asking if he should take them off. Wooyoung nodded.
San took off your shirt, exposing the rest of your chest. He then took off your skirt and panties in one swift movement. He threw them somewhere in the living room, probably landing on an another chair or the floor. But that doesn’t matter.
“You think you can give us one more?” San asked, finally getting the hint. Wooyoung bit his lip and smiled. San brushed the hair out of your face.
“Yes. I can give another one.” You spoke, calming yourself down and catching your breath. They gave you enough time to do so; playing with your hair, kissing your body gently. You nodded your head.
They didn’t waste a second, putting you on all fours. Your face was facing Wooyoung’s bulge and your pussy facing San’s. Wooyoung felt your face for a minute, caressing it gently. You smiled at him, turning around and seeing San unbuckle his belt. He looked up and smiled at you, finally taking the belt off and tossing it.
As you looked back, you were met with Wooyoung’s naked core. You looked up, gulping. He put his hand onto your head and rubbed it softly. “You ready, Y/N?” San asked.
“I’m ready. Same time.” You said. They smiled at each other. Usually, you would tell one of them to go first and then let the other one enter whatever side they were on a little after the other one. But, today, you were too worked up for that to not happen. You need both of the at the same time.
They looked at each other with shocked expressions. They both tend to be rough when you end up in this position, “are you sure?” Wooyoung asked. “You’ve taken it like that.” He reassured.
“I’m sure. Please, hurry. I need you both now.” You begged. They both looked at each other and San shrugged. Wooyoung nodded and counted down from 3. They both entered you at the same time.
You choked a moan on Wooyoung’s dick as San’s dick, who was bigger in length and girth, pushed into you as well. Wooyoung’s not small of course, but he’s smaller than San.
Tears were already forming and they just entered you. How you took this was beyond you, San, or Wooyoung. Even they were surprised. The moment they started to move their hips, which was slow for now, they were still shocked.
“God, you’re taking us like such a good girl. Maybe she was a good girl today, Woo.” San said, his hips gaining a quicker pace. Wooyoung was so deep in the pleasure that he almost missed what San said. His head was thrown back and his mouth agape.
“Y-yeah. Such a good girl for us, Y-y/n. Oh, fuck. Just like that. Oh, please.” He said whining loudly. San chuckled at him. He noticed Wooyoung’s hood speeding up as well.
Hearing the way you were choking on Wooyoung’s cock made him a little jealous. He missed the way your mouth felt around his cock. But he ignored his feelings, nonetheless. He knew once you were calmed down, he could come and get it when he wanted it or needed it.
Hot tears were spilling from your eyes are they were being pushed out by Wooyoung and San’s cock. Wooyoung’s cock fell out of your mouth as you moaned loudly when San’s tip roughly hit your cervix. “Fuck!”
Grabbing Wooyoung’s dick, you slipped it back into your mouth. He continued to suck like the good girl you were. You didn’t realize that doing what you did would make Wooyoung cum so quickly inside of your mouth, almost in the back of your throat.
The knot in your stomach tighten to the point it was unbearable. San’s finger rubbed your clit making your body tense and twitch. You soon came after that.
You slipped it out of your mouth and kissed his tip. You felt hot cum shoot into your pussy, moaning at the feeling. “Switch?” San asked, breathing heavy. Wooyoung smiled and nodded.
They both moved to each other’s places. They didn’t even count down before they both shoved their dick in each end. Choking again, you smiled around San’s cock. His was your favorite to get facefucked by or to suck off. Wooyoung’s was the nicest to get fucked by, most definitely.
“Ah- fuck.” You moaned out in a muffle. San grabbed the back of your head, pushing it back and forth from and to his core. Wooyoung groaned out as you clenched harshly around him.
“Keep doing that and I’ll cum right now, Y/N.” His heavy breathing made you clench again. “Mhm, please Y/N. Don’t do this.” He said with a whine. His hips moved faster than before. You ended up cumming quicker than before.
The overwhelming pleasure was getting to you, “too much, ah, fuck!” You shrieked about San’s dick. They both sped up, trying to finish.
“Hold on, Y/N. Please, let us finish.” San said as he was so close to his release. Moaning out loudly as he could barely take the overstimulation as well. “I’m cumming, shit.”
“Fuck, I’m cumming, too.” Wooyoung whimpered. His hips stuttered as he got closer and closer to his climax. He fucked his way through, and came inside of you. Shortly, San followed and he groaned as he came. He pulled watch, watching the cum drop down onto your face.
He wiped it away with his thumb. He looked up noticing Wooyoung watching the cum drip out of your abused pussy. Wooyoung bit his lip back and smiled at the mixture of all three of your guy’s cum.
“Woo.” San said. It quickly grabbed his attention. “Clean up.” He pointed to you. They both got up and went to get things to clean you up. They ran you a hot bath and got you some little snacks you like. And once you were done with that bath, they were already sitting on your bed, fresh out of the other shower.
You smiled and climbed in between them. They shared their snacks as well as they continued the show that they fucked you to.
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Note
3 & 38 💕
Thank you, friend 💕 This prompt took my face in its hands and whispered, "Drunken late-night bus ride."
3) SHIP: Cressida x Eloise
38) SCANDAL: public drunkenness!
more Bridgerton-themed fic prompts
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Happy Times We Had (And Yet the Times Were Sad)
Pairing: Cressida x Eloise Rating: M Word Count: 1729
Summary: Drunk on champagne and shining like two falling stars, Eloise and Cressida take the bus.
They rushed onto the bus, out of breath, and Eloise hoped it was the right bus. The lit-up number over the windscreen had seemed right as they’d dashed down the sidewalk, but it was only a blur in her memory as she snapped open her clutch and poked around for their fare.
The driver pitched the bus forward, which Eloise supposed was as much a mark of trust as a completely arseholish thing to do; he was assuming she could pay. The bus swung away from the curb to avoid a parked car and Cressida wrapped her arms around Eloise’s waist from behind, the pair of them swaying together. As soon as Eloise got their fares sorted, she took Cressida by the hand and led her, wobbling, down the aisle, collapsing into a pair of seats across from the rear door. She fumbled out an error-riddled text to Benedict, saying they were on their way home.
The pair of them glittered in their evening finery—dresses with little straps that crisscrossed their backs and sparkling eyeshadow fallout under their eyes. Their insobriety made the effect all the prettier. Eloise grinned lazily as she stared at Cressida, whose head rested back against the window, headlights and neon lights and stoplights sliding past outside, her perpetually too-tight blonde hair tugged loose to drape, like a third drunk, over her shoulder.
“D’you think he’ll be angry at me?” Cressida asked.
Eloise twisted until the pointy toes of their high heels knocked together. The large sequins on Cressida’s skirt would leave impressions in Eloise’s bare knees as she pressed against her.
“Who?”
Cressida sulked.
“My father.”
“Oh yes. Well,” Eloise reflected, patting her friend’s hand, “you did call him a pompous, uptight bastard. And you gave him the ol’ ‘fuck you’ gesture when we were on our way out.”
Cressida slumped a little in her seat, tilting her head.
“But d’you think he’ll be mad?”
“I think…” Eloise said slowly, because the thought was still forming and because she was drunk. “I think, if your father sat down with himself—”
“Mhmm.”
“—and really got to—got to know himself—”
“Mhmm.”
“—that maybe he would maybe see tha’ he is a pompous, uptight bastard,” Eloise concluded.
Cressida’s head swung loosely from side to side.
“That is never going to happen.”
“No, it doesn’ seem likely,” Eloise agreed. “Maybe if you hadn’ said it in front of all of ‘respectable society.’” Her air quotes were expansive.
“‘Respectable society’ can kiss my ‘Daisy by Marc Jacobs’-scented arse,” Cressida declared, yanking her shoes off and dropping them onto the floor of the bus.
Eloise laughed richly, leaning her head on Cressida’s shoulder. After a minute, she sighed. She could feel Cressida breathing. Turning her face just a little, Eloise inhaled. She could smell Cressida’s perfume, mixed with champagne sweetness and, gradually, the lingering scent of smoke that clung to Eloise, courtesy of the cigarette she’d smoked in the restaurant bathroom before they’d made their escape.
“You smell really nice,” Eloise observed.
“Thanks.”
The word sounded wet, so Eloise raised her head, and saw that Cressida was silently weeping. Eloise’s mouth fell open in panic. She was not good at this: emotion. She had never been a natural at comforting others, never the right-shaped shoulder to cry on. Her younger siblings had always gone to their mother for solace—failing that, to Daphne or Benedict (to be fair, so had Eloise). In this moment, with Cressida’s fat tears washing her bottom row of eyelashes of mascara, leaving them pale and clustered and vulnerable to the world, Eloise had never wanted to help so badly.
She touched Cressida’s cheek and gently shushed her, but it was obvious that Cressida was a deadly combination of too overwhelmed and too intoxicated to stop crying that easily.
“I’ve totally fucked my life,” Cressida sobbed.
And Eloise said, “No. No. No,” in various sympathetic tones, meaning each repetition with her whole heart.
“They’ll send me away!”
“They can’t. You’re not some child in boarding school, you’re at uni.”
But Cressida was shaking her head, adamant.
“They’ll send me away. They’ll make me live in Denmark. I got too good at Danish. I never should’ve declared a minor, but my father said a language would be good for—good for my business degree,” she wailed.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Eloise thought fast. “I’m going to hide you in my closet.” This thought had indeed come to her fast, but was perhaps not sound.
Cressida sniffed.
“In your closet?”
“Uh huh. I’ll protect you.”
Although her face was streaked with tears that glimmered pink and gold, Cressida smiled. She pulled Eloise’s hand onto her lap and held it.
“You sound about four years old,” she said.
Eloise smiled back and reached out to trace the shape of Cressida’s chin with her fingers.
“I dunno about that, but I think I’d melt if you called me ‘baby.’”
The bus rolled jarringly over a pothole, nearly flinging Eloise from her seat. She gripped the nearest pole and swiveled her head to look out the window. Well done, she thought to herself. Right bus after all.
“C’mon,” she said. “Le’s get off at the next one.”
She told Cressida not to forget her shoes, and they hobbled off with all the grace with which they’d made their ascent. The bus puffed hot air and pulled away. Cressida squinted at the buildings they faced from the sidewalk. Her heels dangled from her hand, her fingers hooked through the straps.
“Is this right?”
Eloise grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to look across the street.
“Oh. I know where we are,” Cressida announced. “You are protecting me.”
But Eloise felt a bit embarrassed about that, and the other thing she’d said, now that they were out in the warm evening air and the bus wasn’t lurching them along. They darted across the road. It wasn’t until they were on the other side, not a ten-minute walk from both of their houses, that she looked Cressida in the eye—and this was because Cressida grabbed her hand to stop her.
“This would all be awful without you,” she said.
Just for Eloise, there were streetlights like angels’ eyes that made Cressida’s hair glow and her dress shimmer and her eyes shine above the muck of her cried-off mascara, and the way she watched her was divinely tender and fearful, both.
Eloise kissed Cressida on the cheek; she wasn’t so tall without her shoes on, with her hair down. Eloise breathed her in, then stepped back.
Cressida wore an alarmed, animal expression, like something not used to human touch. But then she dropped her shoes—Eloise heard the clatter—and sunk her fingers into Eloise’s tangled hair. Eloise was breathing fast, but Cressida just leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. Eloise’s eyes crossed as she watched Cressida’s close.
“Don’ go,” Cressida murmured.
“I-I’m not.”
Eloise was ashamed of the stammer, thinking she was making too much of this. She was always making too much of things, but this was worse than usual because it would hurt more. She’d thought, someplace between the restaurant and here, that it was time. She had misunderstood; Cressida was only drunk and morose, lonely and needy. Maybe she did see how Eloise needed her (it was different) and she was playing on that. She used to be that sort of mean girl. Eloise didn’t want to think her friend capable of such a personal cruelty though. She just doesn’t understand, Eloise told herself, staring at Cressida’s blurry, too-close face. She won’t feel me wrapped around her finger until I start cutting off her circulation.
“Don’ go,” she was still mumbling, shaking her head, their foreheads rubbing.
Somehow, Eloise’s heart felt heavier in pieces than it had a moment ago, whole. But she wouldn’t go. She couldn’t. Cressida meant too much to her. They were each other’s life raft in all this society bullshit and parental expectation. Anyway, she wasn’t about to leave her friend standing drunk and barefoot on the sidewalk.
Gentle, Eloise reached up to pull Cressida’s hands from her hair. Without warning, Cressida thrust her face forward and kissed Eloise on the mouth. Eloise blinked.
Now it would hurt, and this hurt would scar—when she had to maternally tuck Cressida’s hair behind her ears and say, That’s enough now, Cress. But before she could speak, Cressida said, “Baby.”
“What?” Eloise’s voice sounded choked.
And Cressida’s fingertips trailed up and down the sides of Eloise’s neck, and she traced the pendant that hung against her throat, and she pressed their faces together, and she said, “Baby,” and she kissed Eloise again.
Eloise kissed her back, sloppy and yearning, cataclysmic and sweet. Cressida wasn’t someone she could kiss and laugh about it the next day. She couldn’t enjoy these benefits and keep being just-friends. She couldn’t hook up with Cressida, have a fling with Cressida, eat Cressida out on a pristine bench in a private park after dark because her dad was the worst and she was somehow even prettier with swirls of cried-off makeup making her cheeks look like candy-coloured Italian marble. Eloise couldn’t do this and recover, but she did it. How could she not? She did it and she led Cressida through the gate of the private park with their fingers linked, and Eloise laid her back on the pristine bench and crouched to give her head while Cressida named all the constellations she could see, getting all of them wrong. Eloise did it, gambling that it wouldn’t seem ugly when they were sober. She did it, remembering the pressure of Cressida’s arms around her waist while she paid for the bus. How, how, how could she not?
And then Cressida curled into Eloise’s side and said, “You’re the only one who matters.”
And Eloise combed her fingers through that long blonde hair and said, “That isn’t true.”
And it could’ve ended there, but Cressida went to Eloise’s home because her house wasn’t one, and slept in a guest room, and, half-awake, lifted the sheet for Eloise when she turned up later on, a way to beckon her in because she was dithering in the doorway. They slept deeply.
Eloise, who had appointed herself protector, woke up to feel Cressida wrapped around her from behind.
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chapter five: fucking situations, circumstances, miscommunications
pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader
summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.
That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?
masterlist
PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER FOUR: WHO ELSE DECODES YOU?
warnings: language, mentions of sex (no smut), self deprecation, angst (!)
word count: 3.9k
Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22 @laughterafter  @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @bxckybxrnes24 @rachellovesloki @toffeacademia @bean-bean2000 @lana525 @selella
A/N: im so sorry okay? but I promise, the fruits of patience are always sweet (is that right)! hope u enjoy, and don't worry only five more chapters until I stop torturing the pair to pine longingly... also phase one is complete, so I'll be taking a two week break before starting phase two: the falling rollout! stay tuned :)
It turns out you were wrong. You had been speaking to Nat — Wanda was off somewhere with Vision — and you talked her out of the notion that you were falling in love with Bucky. Because of course you aren’t…you can’t afford to. Falling in love made a mess of you, there’s no way it’s going to happen so soon.
When you first set foot in New York, it felt like a fresh start. Sure, you’d imagine if all went well, then a few years down the line you’d find yourself opening up again. Not doing it so soon, and certainly hadn’t imagined in your wildest dreams that it would be reciprocated.
You convince yourself you’ve imagined it. And of course, you did. Because in the night, Bucky had left you and your scheduled movie night last minute, to go out on the town with Steve. He had invited you, but you’d declined. Maybe you’ve weirded him out with admitting you’re more attracted to brunettes — maybe he’s figured it all out and is now trying to avoid you, to let you down gently. 
And when you’re just about to fall asleep after tormenting yourself with all the awkward ways he’s trying to avoid you, because he’s too nice to tell you — that’s when you hear it. Moaning and groaning of a man and woman through the wall, the hard and rough pounding of what can only be a bed frame against a surface, and the man is undoubtedly Bucky. You'd recognise his voice anywhere. Your heart sinks as you immediately walk out of your room, where you can hear everything, heading to the kitchen, unable to handle it. It feels like your insides will be spilled all over your front and the floor. Trying to get the images out of your mind of Bucky and another woman entangled…like that. Clutching at your chest, because your heart just burns and your eyes are full of water and everything’s blurry, shaky hands reaching for a glass of cold water to dissolve the lump in your throat.
Why are you upset? Bucky is a grown man, fully capable of making his own decisions and choosing the women he wants to sleep with. It’s not his fault he doesn’t choose you. So why does it make you so upset, that you’re quietly stifling your sobs in an empty, cold kitchen?
You feel like your heart has been ripped out — once again doomed to be romantically interested in the one who would rather choose an inanimate rock over you. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but still. You don’t know how long you stand there, the only light a warm orange spilling over the black kitchen island, and think every single spark of hope in you away. The look of desire on his face…maybe it was platonic affection. You mistook it for something more, because you’ve never seen that look haunt anyone's features before. Maybe he looks like that at everyone.
And then you hear hurried footsteps, and the unmistakeable, juggernaut-like clack of women’s heels. You straighten, and she appears. Wrapped in a red dress, Bucky’s favourite shade, that accentuates every part of her so flawlessly, and her lipstick hasn’t even budged, despite the mess of her hair and other parts of her makeup. She offers you a soft smile as she passes, but you can’t help yourself. How has her lipstick not even smudged a little?
“Wow, you’re so pretty, oh my God. What lipstick do you use, and how the hell has it still not budged? Girl, I need the brand and name, like, right now.” You usher her over, to inspect her perfect lips more closely. Even the warm light makes her seem a million times more attractive, and you can’t help yourself.
You hold her face in your hands while she rattles off some obscure brand you’ve never heard of, making a mental note to search it up later. “It looks amazing,” you say, meeting her eyes, which are the most warm shade of brown. 
You know you can never hold a candle to the beauty of this woman, even at your very best, but you’d be damned if you didn’t tell her of her radiance.
“Thank you,” she blushes and straightens, pulling away from your hold. Her outfit is so amazing, you can’t even blame Bucky for being so taken with her. You’re right there with him.
“Flirting with my date, are you?” Comes Bucky’s voice from the doorway, and you both turn to look at him. Then you remember yourself, and your situation. She’s just had sex with Bucky, and here you are, complimenting her lipstick.
And in this moment, you dig to your lowest familiar, and compare yourself to her. It’s not a competition, you know better than to fight over a man, but even if there were…you would lose by a landslide. Objectively.
Absentmindedly, you touch your hair while glancing at hers, dark, perfectly curled locks swishing about her shoulders and touching her elbows, even at its messiest. You don’t know if you want to look like her, or to be with her, in this moment.
“No, no. I was just asking her about her lipstick, that’s all.” She hands you her phone, ignoring Bucky, and asks you to enter your number with a wink. You happily comply, and almost miss the way her face falls when she reads over your name, and glances over her shoulder at Bucky. 
Clearly, you’ve missed something. You don’t want to ask. “I’ll call you,” she gestures to you, leaving you with a kiss on the cheek. You blink several times, trying to process the events of the past hour or so.
You’ve never been more confused. How did you end up with Bucky’s date’s number? “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you doll?” He’s got that signature smirk on his face, but you look away. Something about his messy hair and flushed cheeks seems a sight that isn’t reserved for you, but the lover who just left the compound.
“No, I— I was just complimenting her, I swear. She seems nice, though. Are you gonna see her again?” He joins you at the table, and up close you can see the slight sheen of sweat on his brow, and you hate the way the sight of it stirs something in your lower belly. You want him, so bad. You want to be the reason he emerges from his room flushed and you leave with messy hair like you just rolled out of bed. Alas, it isn’t in the cards for you. Fortune and romance have never been entangled lovers in the story of your life, and you shouldn’t expect anything different in this chapter of it. You take another cold sip, hoping to swallow the bitter realisations you've stumbled across tonight.
“Well, considering I don’t even know her name, and you got her number, I doubt it.” He laughs, hoping you’ll chuckle alongside him. You’re not in the mood to talk about his sex life, and you feel like you’re about to throw up because of it, yet again. Now knowing his type is a dark, sexy feminine energy, you can’t bear it anymore. You are the very antithesis of it all — light, and soft. Maybe he even finds you sweet. But you’re not the one, not the one he wants.
You may be the one he spills his secrets to, but you know you’ll never be the red-dress femme fatale he takes to bed, or into his heart.
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” You ask, sparing him a quick glance then returning to look at your hands that just look too wrong. Palms too wide, fingers too stubby. She had hands like a fucking nail polish model. Everything about you feels wrong and misshapen in this moment. Bucky’s wondering what he did to upset you. He’d overheard you talking to Natasha, explaining clear as day that you’re not attracted to him. He’s simply taken it as his sign to move on, to try and bury his heart that he’s laid in your chest, instead of letting it consume him. That's why he said yes to Steve, why he left you to go out. He didn't want either of you to stew in uncomfortable silence because he doesn't want to admit what he heard and how badly it hurt him. To confess would be to lose you, and so he buries it all deep down. Just like everything else.
But it’s a lot harder than expected, especially when he brings a girl home, for the first time in decades, but all he can think of is you. He’s manoeuvring her hips and imagining them to be yours, kissing her lips and pretending you’re the one gasping against his mouth. He ended up so wrapped in the fantasy, your name had slipped past his lips as he came, even though he tried to hide it in a murmur against her shoulder. But, of course she heard. She’d lectured him for a couple of minutes while throwing her clothes back on, about how he shouldn’t be fucking around if his heart is so set on one woman, that he says her name when lost in the throes of passion with another. Then, she’d spun on her heel and left, and he’d departed to find you. 
To tell you, he can’t do it anymore. Despite your feelings of romantic apathy when it comes to him, he can’t say the same. He is enamoured, infatuated, obsessed with you, and he can’t let you go. He can't bury his feelings when they just keep building up like waves and crashing over the grave of his heart -- he can't keep it to himself. Even if your words seal the vault closed forevermore, he needs to hear them. He was so ready to beg for one date. One chance, one kiss, one taste. Maybe not in the moment, seeing as you wouldn’t appreciate the taste of another woman’s wine on his lips. He wouldn’t either, if that night you’d gone on the date with Steve, he'd let his impulsive thoughts win just moments after you kissed another's mouth. He wonders how you kiss as he touches his own lips in thought -- would you let the other take charge and cover him in sweet pecks, or do you prefer to taste like passion and sin? These were the only thoughts circling his smitten mind as he searched for you longingly. 
And then he found you, illuminated so beautifully in the light of the kitchen island, and it occurs to him, just how there is no competition between you and other women. They could never hold a candle to you, to the radiant sun of your essence and your beauty.
The woman seems surprisingly smitten by you, with your eyes on her lips, and her giving you her number. He doesn't blame her for feeling that electric pull to you. He's right there with her.
He also didn’t miss the look she gave him over her shoulder, after reading your name. She knows, that it’s you. She won’t come back, she knows better than that. But he can’t tell you that that’s the reason he won’t be seeing her again, and you won’t even look at him. 
“Yeah, doll. Of course. I’m not bailing on you again.” He smiles, gently touching your cheek, and you pull away before his skin makes contact.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.” You turn around and walk out, the tears in your eyes dripping down your face and leaving a salty trail all the way to your door.
                                            ————————
In the night, you’d done a lot of thinking. And you’ve decided to let him go, to let him do what he wants. He’s not evil, he’s certainly not wicked. He just doesn’t want you. That’s not something to hold against him, how could it be? He doesn’t owe you romance just because you want it with him. You’ll cherish his friendship, his strictly platonic affection, but you’ll let any thought of a relationship with him go. 
You’ll be all the better for it. 
And so you stand in the communal living room, rechecking your Taylor Swift themed tote bag that you’ve kept everything you need. You had taught Bucky how to bake his favourite brownies the other day, so you packed a few of those in case he gets hungry. Your favourite crisps, drinks for the both of you. Headphones, a charger for your phone, a claw clip to tie up your hair if it gets too hot, car keys, wallet…
It’s sunny outside, so you’ve opted for a long, maxi summer dress in a dark dusty rose colour and covered in gorgeous flowers, golden hoops and necklace like always, and your hair falls over your back loose and natural with a small accent braid weaving through the strands. You’ve also kept the makeup light — blush, kohl and mascara, and a tinted lip balm. You feel oddly good about your appearance, when you’re not in front of anyone else. When there’s nobody else to compare yourself to, you allow yourself to feel pretty. You throw on a thin white cardigan, grab your tote bag and head over to Bucky’s room to collect him.
You two are going out today. And you plan on buying him a surplus of items, all because of the massively fat pay check you get given courtesy of Tony. You’ll also be taking the subway, something Bucky’s a bit afraid of, but—
You almost crash into Steve when you turn the corner, in your mind being preoccupied with making an itinerary of where you’re going. He catches you, grabbing you around the arms. The both of you are a little on edge, given the failed outing of a few nights ago, but you had let him down gently. You did tell him you want to stay friends, even as he looked embarrassed and laughed about it. You didn’t tell him about your crush on Bucky, having decided to keep it under strict lock and key after being consumed by the feeling of wanting to kiss Bucky instead. You knew, in that moment, that nothing would've made him feel worse. You meet Steve’s pale blue eyes, offering him an apologetic smile.
“Oh my God, Steve. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Did I hurt you?” He shakes his head, chuckling at your panic.
“No, no. I’m completely fine. Don’t worry, dear. You look good.” He compliments you fondly, eyeing you up and down once. You smile, forgetting the initial panic that surged through your system.
You take the compliment at face value. “Thank you, Steve. That’s really nice of you.”
“Where are you going today?” He asks in polite conversation. You’ve already talked about this, about where you’re off to. Maybe he forgot.
“Oh, Bucky and I are going downtown today! I was planning on getting him some new clothes, you know, his current closet seems a little out of date. We’ll probably be back by 7 at the latest, but it depends on how picky he is, you know him. Oh, and before I forget, Denise is in charge while I’m away. Mr Fury and Mr Stark haven’t told us that there’s any major missions today, so it’s mainly the barebones team, so if anything happens today, you report to her. I’d much prefer to enjoy my first day out in months, but in case of absolute emergencies, of course you can contact me, alright? You’re the most responsible one of the bunch, so I’m trusting you to spread the message for me.” You gently squeeze his arm in reassurance. 
“Yeah, will do. You have fun today, okay? I’ll try my best to make sure nobody gets in a housefire or something. You’re one of the hardest working people I know, dear. You deserve this. And trust me, if you’re the one picking out the outfits, you could put him in a hot pink suit bejewelled to high heaven and he’d wear it happily.” 
You mouth drops. “You know what, that’s an amazing idea, thank you.” He laughs at that, and you smile. You’ve always been treated by past-partners like you’re the most unfunny person on the planet, like your jokes are tolerated and not laughed at. So it always surprises you when people find you funny. You welcome it, but it feels strange nonetheless.
And then Bucky appears, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “Ah, the prodigal super soldier emerges,” you say, hand wrapping around his back almost stiffly as you try to calm your aching heart at the sight.
You know this will haunt you, when you’re feeling down on yourself. You’ll clutch at your chest once again, feeling stupid at the fact you ever thought this Adonis of a man would ever look at you twice. Why would he?
But for now, his friendship is enough. It has to be.
“Uh huh. Should we go, doll?” He tilts his head extremely close to yours, and it takes every conscious muscle in your body to stop yourself from closing your eyes. No need to embarrass yourself.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” You turn to the other supersoldier in the room, currently being the one left out. “Bye Steve. Please tell everyone what I told you.” He nods.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You smile and let Bucky lead you away, waving a quick goodbye over your shoulder.
“I wanted to ask, was last night awkward?” You try to ignore the comment as you both walk down the street, heading to his favourite bistro for breakfast. The sun is shining, the streets smell like something that isn’t piss, and you’re spending the day with your favourite person.
“Hm, no not really.” He stops the both of you at a busy intersection, pulling you into an alley, and pushing you against the wall. His arm is still secure around your waist so your back doesn’t crash too hard against the eroding brick and mortar, but unfortunately that means your hands end up on his…firm chest, and your thumbs can’t help but soothingly stroke from side to side. You can’t meet his eyes.
“Then why are you avoiding eye contact? Is there something I did wrong? Are you upset with me? Look at me, doll. Please.” His tone is pleading, borderline pathetic, but neither of you care. Your eyes meet his, and you try your best to not get lost in his eyes like sinking ships, so inviting that it takes everything in you to not jump.
To not kiss him. You crave to know what his lips taste like, but you shouldn’t. You keep trying to bury these intense feelings, and yet they keep building up like waves and crash over your grave, resurrecting you. And it feels amazing to be alive.
“I’m just…awkward about these kinda things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Sex. I mean, I heard you through the wall with Camille. And then, ten minutes later you were speaking to me like you weren’t just doing…all of that. It’s strange. I—“
“Do you think it’s bad? That I’m having sex?”
“I…what? No. No, no, Bucky, I’m not shaming you for having sex, God knows I should be the last one judging you for that…it’s just…I’m not used to that. People I’m close to... we all talk about it a while after...you know. I’m just not used to hearing you have sex and then seeing your face, like, ten minutes after. That’s all.” You smile then, touching his cheek as a way to assure him you’re telling the truth. Half of it, at least.
He leans into it so sweetly. “Okay. If that’s all, then… We should get going.” You nod, despite every bone in your body protesting moving away from this intimate moment. He feels the same, because every fear he’s ever had disappears at the warmth of your hand on his face. His eyes travel to your lips and you fix yourself, smoothing down your dress.
“You look absolutely beautiful in your outfit, by the way.” He silently adores you as you double check nothing’s been stolen from your bag, although you doubt someone is going to sneak between you two what with your hyper vigilance and Bucky’s enhanced senses.
You laugh. “You always think I look beautiful no matter what I wear. Even if I wore your sweatpants, you’d still say the same.” Smoke covers the both of you in a misty haze, but he swears he’s never seen you any clearer.
“Because you still look beautiful to me. You always do. Just accept the compliment, will you? You know you don’t have to work hard to deserve compliments, don’t you? They should be freely given.” He strokes your hair, admiring the tiny braid in between his fingers.
“I’m learning to.” You both smile at each other, and you let yourself feel the sweet swell of your heart, for once. Maybe that’s what will work. You just need to feel it all, and get it all out of your system. That’s how you end your crush on Bucky — feel until your reservoirs are empty, until you look over him one day and see nothing more than a good friend, a best friend even. It might takes years, it might even be next week. But this is your plan. 
“Now, should we go?” You extend your hand in a silent offering, to reconnect the bridge that you had temporarily abandoned in your moonlit insanity. He takes it, placing his metal hand firmly in your grasp and interlocking fingers. You notice how he’s wearing long sleeves and gloves, even in this peculiar hot day in November.  He must be boiling in that leather jacket.
For now, you lean into him, into his warmth even though you can feel yourself start to sweat, and you both walk hand in hand. To any outsider looking in, you two paint the picture of the perfect couple. You admire the red and orange leaves against a sky the colour of the eyes that are trained on you — memorising the curve of your nose and the pillow of your lips. In the bistro, you two sit comfortably close together, laughing silently over everything and nothing — like you’ve been dating for years.
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, the both of you laughing like everything’s funny. Like teenagers on the first date — giddy and carefree. Your phone doesn’t buzz once, and you love the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you. He always loves to touch you, whether it’s tracing your palms or leaning his chin on your shoulder in the subway because you’re on his lap in the only spare seat available. You love it too, never knowing someone would be so eager, so desperate to touch you and feel you so innocently.
You’ve always felt shunned — like you’re only worth touching for a partner’s sexual satisfaction, and other times you were made to be ignored and tolerated. But if even a friend can cherish you in this special, sacred way, you can’t help but imagine what a true, enamoured lover would do.
Both of you want it, can feel that your feelings could be something worth a forever and a half — but of course, misunderstandings have to get in the way.
They always do.
NEXT PART
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earthtoharlow · 2 days
Text
Recipe for Love
Chapter One: Gather Your Ingredients
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Mia remembered the night vividly it was another industry event where the best of the best mingled in the 5 Star hotel ballroom. She had been feeling practically confident that evening, her black Hervé Léger dress hugging her figure perfectly, her hair styled in an updo. The air was filled with excitement of potential deals, new projects and the thrill of being seen.
Urban had caught her eye early in the night. Tall, with a confident smile, a film camera dangled from around his neck. After a few stolen looks, he finally approached her with a drink in hand. They struck up a conversation naturally, the mutual attraction was undeniable. As the night wore on they found themselves slipping away from the crowd, seeking a quiet corner where they could talk more freely.
“You know, I’ve seen you at these events before.” Urban said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But tonight, you look particularly stunning.”
Mia’s cheeks warmed, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “Thank you, Urban. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
One drink led to another, and before long they were leaning in closer, their laughter blending with the soft music playing in the ballroom. Their chemistry seemed electric and it wasn’t long before they found themselves tangled in the sheets of a suite, finally giving in to the magnetic pull that seemed to have drawn them together.
Over the next weeks they continued hooking up, they would meet up in secret, not wanting press in their business. Each stolen moment felt like an escape from their high-profile lives, a secret world where they could be themselves without judgment.
Mia’s best friend Liv invited her out to lunch as she was back in LA from filming a movie in Paris. Liv’s face lit up with excitement. “I have someone I want you to meet!” Her eyes seemed to sparkle with joy.
Mia’s curiosity was piqued, she couldn’t remember the last time Liv was this happy. “Yeah? Who is is?”
Liv’s grin widened. “My new boyfriend! He’s wonderful, Mia. I really think you’ll like him. We’ve only been dating for 5 months but I think he’s the one.”
Anticipation built from the high praise from Liv as they waited for his arrival. When the door of the cafe swung open and Urban walked in, Mia felt the ground shift beneath her designer heels. He looked equally as stunned, but quickly masked it with a practiced smile. Liv jumped up, throwing her arms around him. “Mia, this is Urban.”
Mia’s heart raced and she forced a smile. “Nice to meet you, Urban.” she said, extending her hand as if they were strangers.
Urban shook her hand, his grip firm but his eyes were filled with unspoken words. “Nice to meet you too, Mia.” He replied, his voice was steady.
The rest of the lunch was a blur. Mia struggled to keep her emotions in check as Liv gushed about her new relationship, unaware of the storm brewing. Urban, of course played his part perfectly, attentive and charming but whenever their eyes met, Mia saw the guilt and uncertainty he was desperately trying to hide.
That night, alone in her apartment, Mia tried to process what had happened. She felt torn between her loyalty to Liv and the secret she now shared with Urban. Their affair had been exciting and intense, but it had to end. Liv’s happiness was too important to jeopardize, their friendship was too important to lose.
Mia texted Urban, asking to meet. They found a discreet cafe where they could talk without the fear of being recognized. “This has to stop.” her voice trembling slightly. “Liv deserves better than this.”
Urban nodded, his expression somber. “I know. It was never supposed to get this complicated.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “This all could’ve been avoided if you had told me you had a girlfriend! But I’m not going to keep lying to her.”
“Neither can I,” Urban agreed. “I’ll tell her the truth. She deserves to know.”
Mia shook her head. “No. You don’t have to. Just end it with me and be good to her. That’s all I ask.”
Urban reached out, taking her hand. “I will. I promise.”
Mia’s thoughts were interrupted when the crowd erupted in cheers in the same hotel ballroom she first met Urban. She watched as he got down on one knee, presenting a beautiful ring, one she knew was perfect for Liv. She clapped along, her face with a mask of congratulations. Mia needed to get out, to think, to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over her.
As the crowd surged forward to congratulate the newly engaged couple, Mia knew she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Steeling herself, she approached Liv and Urban, her smile firmly in place.
“Congratulations, Liv!” Mia exclaimed, pulling her friend into a warm embrace. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you, Mia!” Liv beamed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “This is the best night of my life.”
Mia turned to Urban, who was watching her with a look that sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Mia,” he said, his voice smooth. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot to both of us.”
Their hands met in a brief, tense handshake. As their eyes locked, Mia saw a flicker of something in his gaze—a mix of recognition and regret that only she could understand. She forced a smile, trying to keep her composure. “Congratulations, Urban,” she said, her voice steady. “You two make a wonderful couple.”
Urban’s knowing look lingered a moment longer before he nodded. “Thank you, Mia. We’re really happy.”
Mia managed a nod, her heart pounding. She needed to get away, to breathe. Excusing herself, she slipped out onto the balcony, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside. She leaned against the railing, staring out into the night, her thoughts a mix of guilt, sadness, and a strange sense of loss.
Despite her lack of feelings for Urban now, the memory of their affair gnawed at her conscience. She knew she should tell Liv the truth, but seeing her friend so happy made the decision agonizingly difficult.
“Mind if I join you?” a soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Startled, Mia turned to see a handsome man with an easy smile standing nearby. He wore a tailored suit, but the warmth in his eyes and the gentle way he held himself made her feel at ease.
“Sure,” Mia replied, trying to sound casual. She wasn’t in the mood for company, but something about the guys presence was oddly comforting.
“I’m Jack, by the way. I’m a close friend of Urban.” He extended his hand. “And I apologize if I’m intruding. I know who you are, and I figured you might want some space.”
Mia shook his hand. “It’s okay, really. It’s nice to meet you, Jack. I didn’t expect anyone to recognize me here.”
Jack chuckled softly. “Well, it’s hard not to recognize a famous model when she’s standing right in front of you. But I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just saw you out here and thought you might need someone to talk to.”
She just shrugged her shoulders and continued looking at the skyline. As the night progressed, the vibrant energy of the party began to wear on Mia. Jack, noticing her restlessness, leaned in closer. “Want to get out of here?” he asked, his eyes filled with mischief and a hint of adventure.
Mia hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Sure, why not? Lead the way.”
They slipped out of the party unnoticed, Jack led her through a series of winding streets until they arrived at an old, abandoned building. The structure stood tall and imposing, its once grand facade now worn by time.
Mia glanced around, a playful smirk on her lips. “Are you going to hurt me?” she joked, her tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. This is just a place I come to when I need to think. It’s kind of my secret spot.”
Mia looked up at the building, intrigued. “What’s so special about this place?”
Jack’s expression softened as he gazed at the building. “One day, when I make enough money, I’m going to buy it and turn it into a restaurant. I’ve always dreamed of having my own place, and I think this building has a lot of potential. I come here to remind myself of what I’m working towards.”
Mia was touched by the vulnerability in his voice. “That’s a beautiful dream, Jack. I can see it now, a cozy restaurant with amazing food. You’d make it something really special.”
Jack smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Thanks, Mia. It means a lot to hear that.”
They wandered around the building, Jack pointing out where he envisioned the dining area, the kitchen, and even a small rooftop garden. Mia could almost see it, the empty shell of the building coming to life in her mind with Jack’s descriptions.
As they explored, their conversation flowed effortlessly. Jack shared stories of his culinary journey, his struggles and triumphs, and his hopes for the future. Mia found herself opening up as well, talking about her modeling career, the pressures she faced, and her desire to find something more meaningful.
“I’ve always been in the spotlight,” Mia admitted, her voice soft. “But sometimes, I feel like I’m just playing a role. I want to find something real, something that’s mine.”
Jack nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I get that. It’s hard to find authenticity in a world that’s so focused on appearances. But I think you’re already on the right path. You just have to keep following your heart.”
They eventually settled on the building’s rooftop, the city lights stretching out before them in a dazzling display. The night air was crisp and refreshing, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
“This place is amazing,” Mia said, her voice filled with awe. “I can see why you come here to think.”
“Yeah,” Jack replied, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “It helps me stay grounded. Reminds me of where I’ve been and where I want to go.”
Mia looked at him, feeling a deep connection forming. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Jack. It’s been a long time since I felt this… at peace.”
Jack turned to her, his eyes softening. “I’m glad I could help. And thank you for trusting me enough to come here.”
Mia gave him a smile, before sighing knowing it was getting late. She had an early shoot the next morning, and didn’t want to wake up with bags under her eyes.
“Ready to head back?” Jack asked before she could. Mia gave him a nod and they took the short walk back to the hotel to part ways.
They reached the parking area, where Mia’s sleek, luxurious car was parked under a streetlight, its polished surface gleaming.
Jack let out an impressed whistle, his eyes widening. “Wow, Mia. This is one fancy ride.”
Mia laughed, a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, it’s one of the perks of the job, I guess.”
Jack shook his head, still admiring the car. “It’s not just fancy, it’s stunning.”
He looked around, spotting his own car parked a few rows away. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways.”
Mia nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that the night was ending. “Yeah, I guess so.”
They stood there for a moment, neither wanting to say goodbye just yet. Finally, Jack reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze before letting go. “Goodnight, Mia.”
“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, watching as he walked to his car.
Mia climbed into her own vehicle and started the engine. As she drove home, her mind replayed the events of the evening, the connection she felt with Jack, and the easy, genuine conversation they shared. Despite the complicated emotions surrounding Liv and Urban, the night had been unexpectedly wonderful.
Once she arrived home, Mia went through her usual bedtime routine, though her thoughts were still filled with Jack. She changed into comfortable pajamas and climbed into bed, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment.
But as she settled in, a sudden realization hit her: she hadn’t gotten Jack’s number. Her heart sank, the excitement of the evening giving way to a wave of disappointment.
As she drifted off to sleep, Mia held onto the hope that they would run into each other again. The connection they had was too genuine to let slip away, and she was determined to see where it could lead.
****
AN: new series (I promise I won’t abandon it) it probably won’t be more than 10 chapters 🫶
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