#I feel mixed about it because on one hand; I feel like I missed out on a pivotal life event

[janitorhutcherson]

Groceries, Taxes, & Laundry (MSchmidt Fluff)

hey guys, it's me. i'm finally back. did y'all miss me? the writing of this is a lil diff, sooooo please enjoy and lmk what you think!

content: pure fluff yall.

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Grocery shopping with Mike Schmidt is… special, to say the least. He absolutely despises it. The dreaded time comes around at the end of every week, your vegetables in the fridge starting to wilt, the meat from the previous trip used up, and all of your snacks have been devoured from late night munchie runs to the pantry (xoxo i love gardening!!!). He knows it has to happen. He knows you’ll wake him up early on Sunday morning like always, because apparently it’s “better to get it out of the way,” which he thinks is, well, to put it lightly, utter bullcrap.

You’ll drag him and Abby out to your local grocery store, her drowsy and jittery all at the same time with the promise of pancakes from a local diner after. Once you arrive, you’ll pull out all of the far-too-expensive reusable bags out of the trunk of Mike’s dingy car, ready to fill them with the necessities. Why get those for 3 bucks when you can get the plastic ones for free? He’ll never understand your logic, something about saving the environment, but it’s okay, he loves you enough not to complain, at least out loud.

The fluorescent lights of the room filled with half asleep employees hits Mike’s eyes like he’s looking directly into the sun. He lets out a small grumbled sigh as he takes in the scent of sterile cleaning supplies and produce mixed in one, with the strange almost play doh like smell of the bakery. Your eyes cut over to him, eyebrows raised, Abby’s hand in yours as she rubs her droopy eyes. Mike can’t help but to crack a small smirk, his lips pursed together. “What?” he’ll question innocently, letting out a small snicker as you go deeper into the dreary establishment. 

At the produce aisle, Mike shivers a little as the water from the misting sprinkler on the shelves hits his bare skin. He should’ve worn his jacket today, he usually does, and he’s regretting the one time he hasn’t. Your eyes are glancing over carrots, broccoli, cucumbers, and squash, all that are somehow both too ripe and too.. What's the word... unripe? Sure, he’ll go with that. His hand reaches out to grip yours in a gentle grasp as Abby points to a particularly fluffy bushel of broccoli. “I want that one! It looks like pretty trees,” she giggles out, finally starting to wake with the day. You let out a giggle of your own and Mike smiles because of how pretty your laugh is.

Next, you’re in the snack aisle, filling the cart with doritos, barbeque chips, pringles, salt and vinegar chips (mike gags when you eat them too close to him), peanut butter filled pretzels, whatever can go in Abby’s lunch box and whatever is tastiest. Mike insists on buying the cheap queso, his nose scrunching up at the price of the name brand one. He knows it doesn’t taste any different.

Now you’re looking at meats, finding chicken breasts and filets, steaks, pork, whatever was on your list from meal prepping. Yes, meal prepping, Mike did that now. Apparently stable people with stable lives who had stable relationships did that. He’d grown fond of sitting over a recipe book with you on Saturday nights, really, shoulder to shoulder, pressed up on the couch well after Abby had gone to bed. Something about it felt safe, a kind of domestic feeling he wasn’t used to.

You’re basically done now, and he couldn’t be more relieved as you make your way towards the dairy section. He grabs a few things, string cheese, yogurt, cream cheese, cheese slices for sandwiches for work. Oh, did he mention he works in construction now? It’s stable, makes good money, and he’s home on time to see you, to be a husband-not-yet-husband (he plans to propose soon, but that’s another story), a brother-more-like-a-father, a person with a regular schedule. He looks over at you, watching as you and Abby skim over the different selections of chocolate and strawberry milk, finally settling on a carton of strawberry. He once again scrunches his nose, smiling all at once. “Nasty,” he mumbles out. Abby playfully hits his arm and you lean in for a kiss.

Finally, thank god, you push the cart towards the bakery section, grabbing bread and a sweet treat or two for the week. Cookies, a birthday cake for no particular reason, cheese danishes, whatever his little family was feeling for the week, that’s what it’d be. This week, it was a huge box of chocolate chip cookies and some kind of cherry pastry he’d never had before. You three finally head to checkout, where everything is stuck in those stupid reusable bags and the price of everything you got feels obscenely huge for what’s in your cart, but he pays it anyway. Walking to the car, in the trunk the groceries go as you all climb in one by one, ready to head for pancakes.

As he reverses the car out of his good (only because it was so goddamn early) parking spot, he can’t help but sigh, this time with contentment as Abby rambles on about a new imaginary (hopefully) friend, your own grin wide as you ask questions, making sure she feels heard. “I love you guys, love doing things with you guys,” Mike mumbles out, reaching his hand over to your thigh as he glances back at Abby too. And it was true, he’d do anything with you two. Hell, if all his life consisted of grocery shopping, taxes, and laundry? Yeah, he’d be ok with that too.

[tkaulitzlvr]

REGRET - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when a video of tom getting a little too close to another girl circulates around the internet, your confrontation sparks a heated argument between the two of you. but after tom says something in the heat of the moment, he is determined to make it up to you.

content: angst

a/n: i have risen from the dead🎀 i’m really rusty so if it‘s not up to scratch i’m sorry, ill post about why i’ve not been writing later but for now enjoy whatever this is🗣️

my eyes are glued to the small computer screen in front of me, face twisting in disgust just a little more every time the low quality video replays. it is almost nauseating, yet i can’t turn away, fixated until my features are scrunched up in an agitating mix of anger and confusion. i am hoping that the events will change the next time the video restarts, that maybe my eyes are deceiving me, but as the same scene plays out in front of me, i quickly realise that it is real, and that my worst nightmare is coming true. not much can be distinguished - whoever had taken the video clearly hadn't payed much attention to keeping their camera still, or investing in the most high-tech gear, but i can tell that it is him. his dirty blonde dreads fall just below his shoulders, hand clutching a drink, surrounded by a crowd of girls whilst flashing lights illuminate his figure every few seconds, lighting up the bustling club before returning it to darkness. he knows that he is the centre of attention, but that doesn't seem to matter to him, his focus on the small blonde to his right.

much to my frustration, the video is only a few seconds long, showing tom leaning into the girl's ear, whispering something before pulling back, a smirk etched upon both their faces. it quickly cuts off just as his hand brushes along her arm, leaving much to be imagined - far too much. though this is probably for the best, watching another second of my boyfriend touching another girl would probably drive me close to insane - if i haven't already reached that point. i can't tell when the video was taken, but it is clearly recent, most likely from one of his tour after parties. he had arrived home last week, and i had been naive enough to miss him - until now.

i hurriedly rush to turn the computer off, sure that i will throw up if i have to watch that video one more time, its existence torture for me as i question how to go about this. tom is totally oblivious, having left for the studio this morning. however as each second passes, i realise that he will be home any minute, long before the anger that courses through my veins has any chance of burning out. my jaw is clenched, breathing heavy and eyes bloodshot as they fight tears, focusing on the blank wall ahead in an attempt to hold them back. the silence is peaceful, an almost laughable contrast to the chaos that echoes within my mind, thousands of unanswered questions racing through it as i am just about ready to pack my bags and never come back, sure that i have seen enough - and the only explanation is that tom has cheated on me.

but when the front door opens, i am trapped, any plans of escaping now far out of reach as tom's soft voice sounds from downstairs.

"baby? i'm home, where are you?" he almost sounds excited to see me, and on any other day, my heart would melt. but today, it twists with dread, feeling as if it has been ripped out of my chest and stepped on. i stay put, maybe because i know the capabilities of my mind, and its tendency to place me in uncomfortable situations, or perhaps it is the nagging in my chest convincing me to delay any conversation with him for as long as is physically possible.

the realisation that i can't avoid him forever comes much faster than i had anticipated. the dull thud of his footsteps trudging up the stairs are enough to capture my attention and pull me out of whatever trance i am subject to. my back falls back against the bed, shoulders slacking with the intent of looking as relaxed as possible, even if the current situation is the exact opposite. i wince when his presence makes itself known, attempting to conceal the uneasy look settling across my face.

"schatz, there you are." there’s no ill intent in his voice. infact it is sickly sweet, laced with an all-too innocent sense of security that on any other day would gravitate me towards him. this part of his day, when he would trudge into bed tiredly, was reserved just for me, for us, and it was something that we both looked forward to. but now it has fizzled out on my end, an excruciating discomfort habituating in its place, becoming harder to ignore with each passing second. the seemingly rigid walls into tom’s heart visibly crumble as he lets his guard down, his tired frame sinking into the soft mattress.

he leans his head against my arm, the limb tensing slightly in response to his touch. it feels wrong. how many other women felt him this close? the thought alone brings a sharp stab to my chest, its non-existent blade twisting within at the almost sickening idea of the same hands touching anybody else. with difficulty, i lift my arm up, heaving it to rest loosely across my torso. from the rigidness of my movement, tom senses that something isn’t right. whether it be impulse or a craving to feel me against him, he readjusts himself, grasping at any opportunity to weave himself even closer, my stiff demeanour offering him the upper hand.

the concept of control seems completely out of grasp now. although unaware, tom tears every remnant of serenity from my still frame, forcing me to follow his gaze and finally look into those eyes. his lips tug into a soft smile at the eye contact, pointer finger aimlessly grazing my lips. though emotionless, he appears to miss the look on my face, far too occupied with his own desires, no matter how light-hearted they seem.

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he mumbles against me, but when i dodge the kiss that he tries to place on my cheek, he finally pulls himself out of his selfish trance and realises that things aren’t as perfect as he had thought.

"hey, give me a kiss." his voice boarders the waters of hurt and confused, eyebrow furrowed with his eyes scanning my own desperately. when i don’t respond, he misjudges my silence for compliance, leaning downward to plant a soft kiss onto my lips. i don't reciprocate, remaining motionless, eyes wide open as he wraps his arms around me. he presses his lips harsher onto mine, desperation the clear motivator of his hurried movements. it quickly fades into concern when he realises the still lips that his own try to move against. breaking apart and surrendering his desire, he finally captures the hurt etched upon my expression, eyes trailing off into the blank wall behind him. he remains on top of me, his hand reaching to cup my cheek gently, the touch providing the exact opposite of consolation - instead allowing the bitter taste of resentment to settle along my tastebuds in place of his tender kiss. another woman felt those hands against her.

"look at me. what's wrong? did i do something?" his eyes scan mine desperately, feverishly attempting to fathom reasoning for my sudden standoffishness, all whilst his thumb rubs slow and soft circles along my cheek, an action which doesn't go unnoticed.

"did you think i wouldn't find out?" my jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as i finally push his body away. his confusion only intensifies as he collects himself as quickly as he can, scrambling to stand up and reduce our distance once again. his figure towers over mine, clearly failing to grasp the hint that i practically throw at him. if my actions aren’t able to spell it out for him, my words make what i want crystal clear.

“don’t touch me.”

though subtle, i notice the way he winces at my words, choosing to let them go for the time being. "what? baby what are you talking about? find out about what?" his chest rises up and down, expression totally readable, so much that i can sense his every thought, and it is terrifying. each second of silence thickens the already heavy air, so much that a heaviness begins to set in my chest.

i say nothing, instead walking toward the computer and switching it on. the screen lights up, the all too familiar video resuming from the point that i had left it. i grit my teeth, tempted to punch the screen and tom, both ideas becoming increasingly appealing. i turn to face him, remaining calm in spite of all brutal urges screaming out from within me, deciding to put them to bed.

"see for yourself. i'm sure you'd love a reminder of your little fling. she's very pretty, i'll give you that." his mouth opens to say something, quickly shutting with the realisation that he doesn’t have any words - none that would make the situation any better, anyway.

"shit, the paparazzi." he mumbles under his breath, massaging his temples a couple times before shutting the computer off, his eyes darkened as an unrecognisable look takes over. “schatz that isn't what it looks like, i promise you-"

"really? so i haven't just witnessed by boyfriend cheat on me with some blonde whore? you tell me you missed me? you seem to have got on swell without me.” my instinctive sarcasm soon burns out, replaced with an unexpected sadness, one that makes it next to impossible to remain composed.

"jesus christ. i wouldn't ever cheat on you. i don't even know who she is, georg said that he knew her so we let her hang out with us for the night. nothing happened, nothing at all. i love you and only you." he begins to get more defensive, voice raising slightly as he tries once again to move closer to me, an effort that even he knows is futile.

"what so you whisper in everyone's ear like that? you touch everyone's arm like that? you smile at everyone like that? i’m not as stupid as the whores you take to bed.” his excuses are almost laughable, and if my heart didn't feel so heavy with the realisation that he hasn't stayed faithful, i would probably laugh. my composure is deceptive, this soon coming to light with the coming of tears along my waterline.

"no, baby, please don't cry." he starts, protective instincts taking over in spit of the situation, his own eyes becoming glassy. when i shoot him a glare he knows to step back, though it is clear he wants nothing more than consoling me, as he usually would. now it is different, when he is the fuse that ignites this entirely fucked up situations "look, that's the only time i spoke to her the whole night. we were making a joke about georg, that's all."

"you must be kidding." my brows raise, searching his eyes for any hint of amusement, quickly understanding that he is being completely serious, this realisation only angering me more. “you know what? i’m leaving.” i attempt to move past him, struggling to progress even a few steps forward when he grabs my wrist, pulling me back in front of him. he is far too strong for me to put up a proper fight, but that doesn't stop me from trying my body tenses as i pull back, his grip only tightening, proving my efforts as worthless.

"can you just listen to me? i get that it looks bad but you're really overreacting here. Ive told you that nothing happened, why can't you just trust me?" he is no longer sympathetic. instead, his voice holds an anger within it that takes me aback slightly, his change in persona almost frightening. though his sudden defensiveness only alerts my suspicions more, silently reaffirming the fact that he has cheated, even if his words tell otherwise.

"trust you? fucking trust you? i have trusted you! and look where its gotten me. do you know how hard it is to have your boyfriend leave for months? no contact besides from a ten minute call every day, not a kiss, a hug, nothing! and this is what i see from your tour. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?" i raise my voice, its harshness mirroring tom's as i finally manage to writhe myself out of his grip, now standing a few feet away from him. he clenches his jaw, looking to the side as silence takes over, its presence only brief however, soon destroyed by the sound of his voice, far louder than it had been through the course of the argument.

"i'm sorry that i don't have a normal career, okay? i've told you so many times that i don't have eyes for anyone else. every single night on tour i go back to the hotel early, because i miss you! and you can't even trust me!" he stops suddenly, almost as if he is contemplating his next words, enduring a silent battle between his mouth and his heart, knowing that both are leading him in different directions. i wait for his response, noticing the way that his expression darkens, eyes refusing to meet my own.

"well? that's all you have to fucking say? you seemed pretty comfortable with her. do you know how much that hurts? why am i not good enough for you?"

"stop it. you know you're good enough for me. don't say shit like that." he is quick to cut me off, his voice laced with disbelief, clearly failing to understand how i could come to such a conclusion.

"do i? seeing shit like that pretty much reminds me why i'm not-"

"look, maybe if you weren't such an insecure bitch then this wouldn't be a problem!" my face drops, lips parting slightly as i pray that my ears deceive me, creating their own truth, one distorted and far from reality. i stay silent, far too astounded to produce any witty comeback, or even look into his eyes. the silence between us is louder than any words spoken, and even more painful than those left unsaid. when i quickly take a glance at him, he realises his mistake just as fast as he had spoken. regret flashes across his face, his expression softening as he walks toward me. i nod slowly, far too defeated to argue back, wrapping my arms around my small frame and walking past him, my entire body shaking slightly as i sob.

"fuck- i didn't mean that. i'm so sorry, god i'm sorry baby." he spews out incoherent apologies, though i am far too hurt to comprehend them, instead tuning them out as i walk out of the room, closing the door harshly behind me.

it doesn’t take long for him to follow, his hurried pleas sounding from behind me. i am far too angry to listen, rushing down the stairs and into the hallway, scrambling for the nearest pair of shoes that i can find. his rambling quickly turns from frantic to desperate when he picks up on the reality of the situation, soon understanding that we are far beyond a kiss and an apology to resolve this.

“wait, hold on schatz. can we please talk about this? don’t leave me, please. i love you so much.” he tries to conceal the small sob that escapes his lips, but i notice it, the almost inaudible sound enough to make me reconsider my choices. but when his arm wraps around my wrist, though not with enough pressure to hurt, i know that forgiving him would be stupid.

“let go of me. i’m leaving for a while. do whatever you want, i don’t care.” my voice is surprisingly calm, the coarseness within it somehow washing away with each shallow breath i take. but the softness of my tone doesn’t match the strength of my movements as i yank myself from his grasp, reaching for my keys and clutching the door handle before he can stop me. i hesitate for a moment, taking a second to look back at him as he continues to spew out his apologies, mixed with incoherent promises that he loves me, along with his own tears that begin to fall from his eyes.

“bye tom.”

please come home, i’m so sorry - 8:35pm

baby? - 8:35pm

i love you so much - 8:36pm

i promise i didn’t cheat - 8:36pm

can we talk about this? - 8:37pm

please tell me you’re safe - 8:39pm

sure, tom and i had arguments just as every couple did. but when i showed up at my best friend’s house, makeup smudged and eyes bloodshot, she knew that this one was more than just a disagreement on who’s turn it was to make dinner. it was obvious that she had questions, but my delirious state was enough of a motive to save those for another time, instead choosing to rush me inside and wrap me up in blankets on her small couch, insisting that we order takeout and watch movies until i calmed down.

“he’s still texting you?” she questions, referring to my phone vibrating yet again, as it had been for the past hour. i nod my head weakly, body sprawled across her couch, shuffling over to make room for the small brunette beside me. she offers a sympathetic smile, handing me a pint of ice cream and sinking into the cushions.

“i’m sorry.” she says, reaching over and pulling me into a hug, noticing the glassy sheet that forms over my eyes, squeezing me even tighter. “boys are assholes.”

i nod in agreement, hearing my phone vibrate once again, this time not even taking the time to look at the message. they had gotten pretty predictable as they became more frequent - either telling me that he loves me, or that he wants me to come home.

“you’re welcome here as long as you need, okay?” she fills in the silence, recognising that all i need is consolation right now, creating a conversation not on the top of my list of priorities. i mutter a small thank you, feeling my eyes becoming heavy.

the beginning of a new day somehow intensifies the feeling within the pit of my stomach, the exact opposite of what i expected from a fresh start. now that i have settled down, the reality of it all feels like a fresh wound, one that i can’t envision myself ever healing from. though any time to endeavour into the complex puzzle of my emotions is drowned out by the all too familiar sound of my phone vibrating, and this time i have lost every ounce of self-control, reaching over to the small device embarrassingly fast. the bright light emitting from the screen causes my eyes to squint as i adjust, vision slowly clearing to reveal at least a hundred unread text messages, each one from tom. my sympathetic nature gets the better of me, a wave of guilt taking over as his messages spring from concerned, to apologetic, to borderline insane at my disappearance. i groan internally, quickly realising that i can’t hide forever, no matter how much i convince myself that it is the safer option.

luckily the task of getting myself ready to go back home isn’t a particularly long one. my jeans begin to dig into my sides, a rather unpleasant yet convenient reminder that i am still wearing the same clothes as the day before. quiet snores from the bedroom alert me to sleeping body of my friend, a small chuckle leaving my lips at the sound. i decide against disturbing her, instead scribbling a messy note and sticking it on the fridge, hoping that she’ll understand.

- going back home, thank you for all ur help. i’ll keep you updated, love you

the house is silent as i enter it, the lack of noise almost eerie though short lived when i place my keys on the table, the metal clattering with a small thud. there is no sign of tom, not even the sound of a tv from the living room, or the quite sizzle of fresh food, indicating that he is making breakfast as he would every morning. though it seems that i hadn’t entered as quietly as i had hoped, the sound of tom’s steps, quick and erratic, echoing from the kitchen, getting louder and louder until he is standing in front of me.

our distance is temporary, quickly diminished as he takes me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine with as much strength as he can muster. i only realise just how anxious he has been when his palms cup my cheeks. they are shaking, the skin cold against my own as his entire body begins to tremble, my stomach sinking. he is crying. in spite of his vulnerability, he is the first to pull away, firmly wrapping his arms around my frame and hugging me tightly.

“god i love you, i love you so much. i thought you weren’t coming back.” he struggles to get his words out, a mixture of incoherent sobs and quiet sniffles accompanying his speech. his grip only tightens, hands running up and down my back as he repeatedly kisses my hair, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. my arms remain firmly by my side, sympathetic enough to allow him this small touch, yet no where near as forgiving to consider returning the act.

“are you okay?” he becomes worried, putting his emotions aside and finally separating his body from mine. his calloused fingers run over the smooth skin of my arms, looking for any sign of harm. even though he knows me well enough to guess that i had gone somewhere safe, his protective instincts kick in, convincing him that the worst has happened.

“i’m fine.” i mumble, releasing myself from his grip and walking into the kitchen, taking a glass and pouring myself some water, my throat dry from the strain on my voice from the night before. he quickly follows behind, taking my hand in his. he notices my hesitation, running a thumb over the back of my hand in an attempt to soothe me, and somehow, it works. seeing him in front of me brings back memories of last night, their sting still painful and effects strong with the irritating onset of tears. tom sees this just as fast as i do, reaching upward to wipe them before they are able to fall.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry beautiful.” he whispers, his touch so gentle i almost don’t feel it. he replaces his thumb with his lips, kissing just below my eyes, damp with evidence of my upset.

“how could you?” i mumble, voice barely above a whisper as i struggle to make eye contact, tom’s own gaze pained. his eyes are bloodshot, cheeks red and blotchy and entire body still trembling slightly. his face softens at my question, and silence takes over for a few moments.

“i know. i know how it looks. i shouldn’t have gotten so close to her, not when i have you. but i promise you that i didn’t cheat. you’re everything i want and i’d be an idiot to throw that away. you have to believe me baby.” his voice begins to break, thumb running across my cheek and eyes staring into mine, scanning desperately for any sign that i am convinced. it isn’t the most detailed nor thought out explanation, but i know him enough to see that he is telling the truth.

“okay.” i nod my head and look to the floor, swallowing harshly in an attempt to calm my shallow breathing. his fingers come underneath my chin, gently pulling it upward so that i am facing him again. the pain is still there, regret etched upon his expression as seeing the woman he loves in such a state hurts him just as much as me leaving. he takes me in his arms, lifting me up and gently kissing me again. this time i reciprocate, a small sob leaving his lips as he recognises this, his hold on me only getting tighter. the previous lack of contact had affected more than i had realised, the small reassurance of my kiss enough to crumble his usually calm temperament.

“i love you.” he whispers against me, his lips bitter with the taste of tears. that doesn’t matter to me. pressing my mouth to his as harshly as i can, my arms wrap around his neck, bringing him in even closer. he holds me so tightly, like i may slip away, the fear of losing me all too real. my small hands cup his cheeks, attempting to deepen the kiss, though doing so unsuccessfully as his voice vibrates against me. he sounds broken, his request coming out as a desperate plea, cut off by a short sob. “please say it back. you haven’t this whole time and i-”

“i love you too.” i mumble against his lips. he holds me even tighter, something which i didn’t think was possible. but considering the realms of possibility is an activity for another day. i have no time to consider anything as he kisses me once again, his touch addictive, and more than enough to make me forget everything.

[tragedy-of-commons]

lay your life down and pretty

various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k

In which you die (or they've already lost you).

tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies

notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3

Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.

You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!

And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.

(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.

Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.

He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)

Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone. 

He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.

After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours. 

The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.

Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own. 

The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.

Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”

Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.

He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.

He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”

It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.

So here he is. 

Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.

“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”

You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.

(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)

Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.

Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.

So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.

(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)

Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:

In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.

He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.

Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.

Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?

(She thinks it does.)

You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.

“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”

“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”

Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.

Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life. 

“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?

“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”

The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.

She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.

She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees. 

A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”

Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have. 

Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”. 

If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact. 

It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.

“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”

She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.

Lovers. 

The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.

The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.

Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?

(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)

“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.

The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases. 

It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.

Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.

“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.

One can only hope.

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee

[wonbin-truther]

casual (TEASER) jaemin x reader - 600 words but final fic is ~2.5k hopefully warnings- mentions of sex but idk if im gonna include smut, makeout session, jeno and yn smoke a joint, jaemin is an asshole, some jeno x reader "this isnt anything serious," jaemin said as he zipped his pants up and watched you pull your skirt down. "yea just casual," you agreed.

you where at yet another frat party with chaewon and karina. you hated these parties so much and the reason why stood about 6 feet in front of you with his tongue down another girls throat. "im surprised you haven't gotten mono yet," chaewon handed you a red solo cup filled with some mystery liquid. "you need to move on already. hes a bum," karina groaned. "he's nice," you could feel the tears brimming your eyes. "do not cry over that loser," chaewon grabbed you harshly by the shoulders. "what you need to do is get some non diseased dick and show him what he's missing playing around." you nodded and downed whatever was in the drink and made your way through the crowd, knowing exactly who your target was going to be. naturally you had met jeno within the first couple of weeks fucking around with jaemin. you knew jeno was attracted to you but had some kind of bro code going on. you were quick to find him sitting on the couch smoking a blunt. you sat in the empty spot next to him, making sure to get as close as possible. he adjusted so that his arm was around you, pulling you into his side. "you saw him didn't you?" he pressed the roll to your lips and you happily took a hit. "yea. it's nothing serious between us so it's whatever." "so that's why you came to press onto me? because it's whatever," he let out a low chuckle. you put your head on his shoulder, already feeling the weed mix with the alcohol in your system. "if he can go around with other girls then I can be with other guys. it's only fair," you pressed a kiss to jeno's jawline. "careful princess," his hand moved down to grip your waist as you continued leaving open mouth kisses and marks around his neck. he swiftly pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. you took a quick glance up and locked eyes with jaemin who looked like he was about to kill jeno. you gave him a smirk before you got up from jeno's lap, taking him by the hand and pulling him upstairs. jeno watched from his spot on the bed as you cried into your hands. "i just want him to want me like i want him," you were pacing back and forth. "yn that's how he is. did no one warn you?" he replied. "they did and im a dumbass for fucking around with that loser but-" you let out a scream that you hoped was drowned out by the music downstairs. "you're in love with him," jeno laughed. you threw yourself face down onto the bed next to him, "i hope his dick breaks." jeno let out a louder laugh. "i hope so too. being his roommate is rough. maybe if it broke he wouldn't have a girl over every night". "you're so not helping right now," you got up and gave a light punch to his arm. "if it makes you feel better he's never been as consistent as he is with you." you rolled your eyes, "yea that makes me feel so much better. a new girl every night makes me feel a million times better." "just tell him you like him. trust me he doesn't even know it yet but he likes you back," jeno stood up and stretched. "i'll tell him we fucked if it makes you feel better." you stood up and followed behind him, grabbing his hand, "yea we can tell him that."

a/n - yippee im so excited for this !!! im hoping for it to come out around next week ^^

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛

Pairing: Exotic Dancer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader (no mention of gender or ethnicity)

Summary: Hi, you've reached [your name]. I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep!

w/c: 3.7k

warnings: cheating (on reader), lots of cursing, smoking, heavy drinking, weed smoking, body image issues (I'm sorry), this is a smutty fic (but there’s no smut), dry humping. Please let me know if I missed anything <3

a/n: This is the first fic I've posted in years lmao, I'm a bit rusty, but omfg I enjoyed writing this so much, it's very self-indulgent hehe I hope you love it just as much as I do.

this is not beta'd, any and all mistakes are my own.

Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply encouraged🥺

7:51 PM

“Baby please, You know I’m an idiot…she means nothing” Jake whined through the phone. 

As of 5 hours ago, he became your ex but kept on calling you, each call pleading for your forgiveness and saying the same stupid excuse “I felt you pulling away, what was I supp-”

Before you could interrupt him yourself, your best friend and roommate took your phone “Listen closely you little shit, if you don’t stop calling I’ll personally chop off your balls, fry’em up and feed them to your mother in a fucking salad… it’s Wanda by the way” she huffs as she hands you back the phone, “Colorful” you grimace.

Shoving you inside the car, with you and Wanda on the back, Bruce behind the wheel and Tony as co-pilot, “Why do you even answer his calls?” Tony asks while Wanda lights up a Marlboro, and gives you a drag “Because I want to tell him to go fuck himself… I- I just can’t seem to find the right words”, “That seems right” Wanda quips and you roll your eyes, “Don’t worry you’ll find the words when the time’s right” Bruce adds, “Dr. Banner is right, tonight is all about getting shit-faced” Tony adds.

You all clap and turn up the volume to the perfect song “I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know” Wanda sings, the wind on her face, while Bruce shouts “WE LOVE YOU MADONNA”. 

They were right, fuck Jack, tonight you wanted to let go, you weren’t one for parties or clubbing but you couldn’t stay at home feeling sorry for yourself, partying with your friends seemed like the perfect distraction “LET’S FUCKING GO” you shouted at the top of your lungs.

9:05 PM

“The Hush-Hush Hideaway?” you laughed as you finished your first beer after two cherry vodka shots, sounds like a place where 50 year olds would come to have an affair, “Alright, alright before you keep on talking trash, there is more eye to meet” Tony argues, to that Wanda snorts “are you seriously drunk right now? after three piña coladas?”, Bruce laughs “they’re stronger than they look” Tony defends himself as he stands up, signaling you all to head to the dance floor.

You honestly loved the place, the lighting was incredible, the atmosphere was hot pink with hints of dark red and deep purple, the ceiling was decorated with hundreds of disco balls shining down on you, the bar had tables so crystalline and so red, it looked like solidified blood,  each one surrounded by the comfiest leather couches. There was also the dance floor which you were dancing on now, it had the perfect stage for dancers or any kind of show, the whole place had the perfect mix of chic and urban.

10:39 PM

“This round’s on me” Tony shouts over the loud music as he hands you what would probably be your 5th drink, stumbling around as you danced to a song that suddenly became your favorite, as you downed the liquid gold you took Tony’s hand and started giving him a lap dance of some sorts which made everyone laugh along with you. 

And then everything went pitch black, for 5 seconds the music was over, lights were out, for a moment you thought you passed out but then a huge white light shone straight into the middle of the stage, “Girls Gays and Theys!” a deep voice over the microphone started, “is this a gay bar?” Bruce genuinely chimed in, making you giggle.

“Tonight we encourage you to let that wild side of yours out! Please give a warm welcome to The White Wolf” the voice cheered with excitement and the crowd roared and cheered back, “he must be really good looking” you sassed, and in that moment, red ropes descended.

Not a second later a man dressed in a kevlar suit swirled down as if swimming in the red fabric, wrapping himself in a cocoon in the air so the next second he rolled down to the stage, the top of his leathery suit gone, leaving his gorgeous toned abdomen exposed making the crowd go wild. The lights enhanced his beautiful body. “D-does he have glitter on?!” Tony shouted in awe, everyone absolutely going crazy over this tall, brown-haired, thick oh so fucking thick specimen.

On the other hand, you were finding breathing a difficult task, especially because his eyes were trained on yours, maybe it was the several drinks in your system or the empowering song that heightened everything, but his stare was intense, the ice blue of his eyes chilled your spine and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the show, come down and rip your clothes off… yeah you definitely felt tipsy now.

This man knew the power he held, not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he had autonomy of every nerve and every muscle on his body, your heart and pussy were practically pulsing as you watched him dance. The magic was broken when you felt your phone ring in your pocket, taking it out, you saw it was Jake calling AGAIN, you knew your friends would tell you not to pick up, but part of you wanted to hear him out and scream at him, you didn’t know which one you were going to do.

Leaving the dance floor and heading to the bathrooms where you hoped it’d be quieter, you swipe to the green bubble “Please please forgive me” is the first thing the man says, making you sigh in frustration “S-top stop saying you’re sorry” but it’s like talking to a wall, you’re not even sure he heard you because he just keeps on whining. 

??:??

You don’t know how much time you spent listening to him in the bathroom but eventually, you give up and hang up on him, splashing some fresh water in your neck you exit the room and bump into a rock-hard wall, but then unexpectedly the wall starts talking and you think maybe it’s not a wall.

“it was rude to bail” a grave voice rumbles in your ear through all of the noise, looking up you see it’s the white wolf, making you almost choke on air, but you were quick enough to react and raise an eyebrow in response “sorry?”.

Without even noticing, the man had cornered you into a wall “Don’t apologize, you can make it up to me” he said with a wild smile, “oh he’s good” you thought, then he looked at you as if he read your mind, “you look like someone in desperate need to have some fun… let me give you a hand” he whispered, his confidence made you forget he was a stranger, and oddly enough it felt like you knew him perfectly, the thought of spending your night with him made you shudder.

Taking out what looked like a big fat blunt from one of his pockets, he dragged the little bundle of joy from your exposed thighs, up your arms, slowly passing through your neck, and finally grazing your soft lips, his eyes never once leaving yours, he leaned in and the smell of cedarwood with a touch of french vanilla made your eyes roll.

Man, you’re really not keeping your cool, but he’s too beautiful for you to care, you might as well pucker your lips, but then he backs away, taking your hand and leading you to the backdoor between the kitchens. The sound of music and people dancing start to disappear until it’s muffled, “are we allowed in here?” you laugh as he lights up the joint and takes a big gulp, your heart pounds with excitement, this is exactly what you needed.

Your inner demons whispered that he really wasn’t interested in you, he looked like he was sculptured by frigging Michelangelo, he’d never want to be with someone as big as you, plus you felt sweaty from dancing most of the night, but honestly, it was more about the nerves you felt around him, but just as easy as the negative thoughts came, he batted them away with a single kiss to your cheek, near enough to the corner of your lips “lost you there for a sec” he teased.

As he handed you the joint, you took it with hesitance, “I usually don’t take marihuana from strangers, you got a name or does everyone call you the white wolf?” you teased, carefully eyeing him, realizing that he was still shirtless unconsciously making you bite your lip.

A lazy smile spread on his face “Waddaya mean you don’t know me? Pfft I’m your latest conquest”, it threw you off but he looked so sincere it made the butterflies in your stomach dance, “I’m Bucky” he laughed, he was so at ease with that pretty smile you couldn’t do anything but swoon.

Taking a drag of the blunt you breathe out the smoke through your nose as you offer him your name in return,  not wasting a second he repeats it, slowly, maybe he was high but it seemed as though he enjoyed the sound of your name on his tongue, he savored it, your legs pressed against each other and you had to take another drag so not to seem desperate as you were for him.

He might be a stranger but deep down you felt unbelievable attraction, in less than 10 minutes of knowing him he made you feel powerful, and free, like maybe in a past life or somethin’ he was your soulmate… Pfft, you wanted to crack up at your own thoughts, somehow Bucky knew and started laughing, slowly leaning into you and crashing his lips with yours, it was sloppy but fuck you’d never been kissed like that, it was passionate, you felt wanted, right then and there you were ready and willing to let him swoop you off your feet.

12:59 AM 

Bucky was showing you his best moves, his calloused hands gripped and groped your body as you both swayed your hips against each other perfectly in sync.

He was so smooth, the fogginess of the joint rumbled through your body, each touch, every one of his strokes felt like a wave, you were floating in a sea of music and his scent, nothing was wrong with the world, nothing could harm you because he was right behind you, worshipping you, telling you how he loved the feel of every roll and every curve, you couldn’t help but smile and he couldn’t help but kiss that beautiful smile.

Not long after your friends found you and you introduced them to the dancer who blew their minds, some of his friends joined you, and not long after you were the life of the party, shots and blunts came pouring, and just like you wanted you became one with bucky, you didn’t know where you began or where he ended, pain and misery were a strange and unknown concept tonight.

1:55 AM

Wanda had to drag you away from Bucky to chat with you a bit, she couldn’t hide that grin even if she tried “Dude I don’t even recognize you right now” you laugh with her knowing very well what she means, squeezing her wrist you stop the urge to squeal, “I don’t know how this happened but fuck he’s just so pretty I wanna cry” you both giggle, understanding the Rachel Green reference. 

Turning to see Bucky you caught him already watching you, it looked like he was chatting with his friends but he wouldn’t look away from you, you realized he was waiting for you, and honestly you were eager to return to his embrace and intoxicating scent “Fuck Jack, you have men waiting in line” Wanda practically shouts as she pushes you back to the dance floor.

2:12 AM

After a while your social battery was low and you needed a break, so now you leaned against the wall in the back alley of the bar, a cigarette lit, resting on your fingertips as you recalled the events that brought you here tonight.

You didn’t blame Wanda for reminding you of Jake and what he did, after all, she was just hyping you, but now your mind was plagued, you memorized with detail how you found them, as some sort of self-punishment, why? you didn’t know, after years of therapy, you were still trying to unlearn self-deprecating thoughts that your family and society shoved in your face.

Jake cheating on you with a leggy blonde who was quite literally a Victoria's Secret model was a kick to your stomach, it made you realize that maybe every bad thought you had about yourself was true, and that was terrifying… 

Realizing that the cigarette burned itself out, you stepped on it, but before you could come back inside Bucky opened the door and grinned “There you are, was worried I spooked ya”, to that you chuckled, somehow the laws of social battery didn’t apply to the handsome trapeze dancer “Never”.

Stepping outside and standing next to you, he takes your hand and starts playing with your fingers “What’s got my sweet doll so down?”, you expected the pet name to make you cringe but instead swooned. Lighting another cigarette you take a drag and blow it on his face, and he just bites the smoke, making you giggle, after a beat of silence you show him your heart.

“About… 11 hours ago, my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me” you sigh, trying with all your might not to shed a single fucking tear, Jake didn’t deserve them, “Gimme his address” he deadpans, a look so deadly in his eyes, that spark was almost snuffed, but just as quickly his attitude changed, “I’ll kill 'im with my bare hands, I’LL FUCKING KILL ’IM” he shouts with foux determination, making wild animal noises that are making you laugh so hard you can’t breathe “you’re not funny” you say out of breath.

His thumb cleans away a single runaway tear, his touch is so gentle at first you’re not even sure he’s holding you, he’s so close you feel his breath on your cheek and his nose caressing your skin oh so lightly, “you’re dreaming”, you think incredulously. 

In a second his touch becomes rough as he grips your face with both his hands, holding you still so you can’t look anywhere but his eyes, “he’s a fucking moron” he spits out, almost insulted, “and I don’t mean a jerk or plain stupid, I mean he’s missing some fucking brain cells to let go of someone so insanely beautiful as you”.

Your heart’s pounding in your ears, you’re about to explain but he cuts you off “And I don’t even need to know him, to be sure of what I’m telling you right now” he scoffs,  “Hell, I don’t even have to know you to be sure, in the very short time I’ve known you, you’ve been everything” bucky almost can’t believe he’s saying this to you, suddenly the tension is palpable and neither of you can breathe… 

“You’re driving me insane” is the last thing he says before pushing you against the wall, with a grunt he grips your waist and your lips crash with his, in a fight for dominance your tongues swirl, it’s as if Jake or any other man never existed, washed away by the ocean that is Bucky. 

You loved how vocal he was being, he moaned into the kiss as you practically humped him, he bit your swollen lips as a warning to slow down but it only turned you on more. You could feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and it drove both of you nuts, with all his strength he pulled away, leaving you dizzy and pulling him for more, he’s never wanted anyone the way he wants you but he would never have sex with someone so drunk, even if that person begged as nicely as you were right now.

He laughs as you start leaving hot open kisses throughout his neck and jaw purring like a cat, “Bucky please” you mewled, asking him for more, his hand flew to grasp your hair in a tight grip, nibbling on your skin as he reached your ear “We aren’t doing anything except kissing the fuck out of each other doll” he whispered.

You made for a grab to his groin but he was able to take your hand and hold it above your head “I want you nice and sober when I get you to cream on my cock”, he groans as you make a final attempt to lure him in, but you know he’s right, so you huff in defeat, a pout on display to make your feelings known, “baby doll what’s wrong? you look flushed” he teases as you gasp in faux offense.

3:45 AM

The bar kicked everyone out but you still had some party left in you and apparently, so did Bucky because he’s already got you piggyback riding him to his car, you said goodbye to your friends assuring them you trusted Bucky, his place was less than 10 minutes away and you’d send them your location. 

Once you got to the car Bucky stopped in his tracks, “we’re drunk and high as hell” he stated, and like a bucket of iced water you realized he was right “Accurate statement” you snort, carefully dropping you on the ground he swiftly turned to face you “so we should… perhaps, maybe take a cab” he goofs around as he steals small kisses form you “or we can walk? your place’s near right?” you reply, everyone was already gone to ask for a ride but he liked the idea of having some alone time with you, so,  he picked you up and placed you on his back “To the Batcave!” he runs as you hold onto him as tight as you could.

4:05 AM

You peacefully walked on the side of the street as cars passed by, one thing that you loved about walking at night was the lack of noise, the night wasn’t completely quiet, you could still hear the cars in the distance, people coming in and out of bars or whatever, the breeze was the perfect temperature and the city lights of New York were shone beautifully.

Hand in hand you walked with your latest conquest as he so eloquently put it, conversation flowing, “I got cheated on once, it fucking sucks” You both laughed at the obvious statement “I thought we were going steady and she got bored” he shrugged, “it was a while ago, but it definitely messed with my head” he whispered as he squeezed your hand, it brought him comfort and you as well. 

“You know what’s fucking hilarious though? I was planning on breaking up with him…ok don’t judge me” you laughed, “but I just stayed with him because it was easier to stay in a mediocre relationship than actually fight for my happiness…plus he had a hot tub” you felt stupid for saying it, but he didn’t judge you, his face remained the same, attentive.

Bucky took your hand and kissed each one of your knuckles “I got a really nice bathtub” he murmured into your skin with a smirk, your heart fluttered to what he implied so you jumped and kissed his cheek, holding onto his arm for dear life, content with how the day turned out.

4:38 AM

After smoking yet another joint together you were now straddling your dancer’s lap on his bathtub “It really is a nice bathtub” You grinned between kisses and he laughed, his hands roaming your soft skin under your clothes, you were heaven on earth he kept thinking, he was about to kiss you again but was interrupted by your phone ringing, which made both of you sigh in frustration.

You knew who it was, Jake had been calling over and over for the last 20 minutes and Bucky had enough of the bastard, “Answer him” he ordered, to which you raised an eyebrow “I- can’t I- seriously?” you say almost shocked “You know what you wanna say to him, so say it” he encouraged with a soft smile.

Without thinking twice you pick up, “Finally! what took you so long to pick up?” Jake barks, you have the phone on speaker so Bucky could listen, and he already hated how the jerk talked to you, making him grip your waist with possessiveness.

“What do you want?” you ask almost uninterested, “Baby please forgive me” he cries as if you could ever believe anything he said to you, “I’m so so fucking sorry, what else do you want me to say?!”, to that you let out an unamused laugh “just stop fucking saying you’re sorry, time to put on your big boy pants and take responsibility” you snark, which oddly, turns on bucky beyond belief.

Like a magnet, his lips start leaving love bites on your neck, making you gulp, “Babe let’s be honest, in a month you’ll be begging me to get back together, we both know you need someone to take care of you, you can’t be alone, you need me” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and then you really were done with his bullshit.

“Listen closely you fucktard, stop saying you’re sorry, stop begging me to forgive you, you were a waste of my time and the only reason I didn’t break up with you sooner was because it was convenient for me to stay with your sorry ass” you bark.

You could keep going but now Bucky was humming against your pulse, finding it incredibly hot how you stood up for yourself, he peppered you with hot open kisses that made your mind even fuzzier than the weed, “And I can take care of myself ass” you hiss in delight, it was meant to be an insult but Bucky was making you feel so good…

“Fucking drop that call”, bucky growled into your neck loud enough to be heard over the phone, then sunk his teeth into your soft skin, making you moan, unintentionally into the phone, before dropping it and gripping Bucky’s hair for support as you rubbed against the bulge on his pants “Fuck I can’t wait to make you mine” he moaned, dreaming of all the possibilities, of everything he wanted to do with and to you.

Despite the chills you felt down your spine, despite feeling exactly the same way, you laugh, “Honey… do you think it’s gonna be that easy?” you coo, drunk in power, you devour his perfect pink lips.

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 2

💕 Jean 💕

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), mention of sexual intercourse.

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @agir1ukn0w @precious-little-scoundrel

Putting the finishing touches to your famous cherry pie, you remove your apron and walk into the living room, trying your best to swipe flour off your dress as you enter. 

“Pie is done, Binger,” you say quietly so as not to wake the baby in his arms. Yours and Harry's son had taken to mixing up his days and nights. Not a wink of sleep from midnight - what Bing liked to call his witching hour - until at least 5am. It had started to take its toll on the pair of you, the both of you sleeping in shifts for the most of a fortnight. You missed your husband dearly, despite being back in the same house. There was just something about savoring his arms around you, his nose snuffling into your neck as he slept, the comfort you'd been craving for years. You knew it was hard for him too: waking alone from a horrific nightmare, your soft hands not there to soothe him back to sleep and reassure him he's home and safe. 

Placing the baby in his bassinet, Harry gets up from the couch and stretches, yawning heavily before walking into the kitchen. 

“It looks wonderful, my love. He'll love it.”

“Are you sure?” you question, eyebrow raised a little. “You're sure he said that was his favorite?” 

“Yes, Mrs Crosby,” he laughs, kissing your forehead. “I like to think I'd remember these little things about my friends. Don't worry yourself so.” He pulls you into his arms and strokes your back, his nose falling into the crook of your neck. You feel yourself purr into him at the sensation of him tickling and kissing your neck, gasping a little. 

“He's asleep,” your husband murmurs. “Come to bed with me, darling.” 

“But Rosie will be here any moment and…ahhh–” You can barely piece the rest of your thought together because of Harry putting his mouth on yours, his tongue entering soon after. 

“Fine, we won't go to bed,” he murmurs, pushing you against the counter. “Here is more than fine.” With that, his strong, pretty hands are lifting up the skirt of your dress and gripping your legs, lifting you slightly to get you to sit on the counter. 

“Harry…” you groan as you watch him kneel down in front of you, pulling your underwear to the side. 

“What, my little wife? Do you want me to stop?” he questions, those brown, puppy dog eyes looking up at you as he begins to plant soft kisses on your the inside of your thighs, getting closer to your core with each one. 

“N-no,” you finally stutter out. “It-its just…oh, my gosh.” You're cut off by your husband's tongue taking you apart in seconds. He pulls away, gently pushing a finger inside you. 

"It's just what, darling? Tell me. Tell your Bing just what it is.” 

You can't seem to formulate words due to the pleasure fogging your brain, so you just shake your head, breath ragged. 

“That's what I thought,” he murmurs, returning his face to in between your legs, throwing your leg over his shoulder. “Now, let me make my wife feel good.” 

You're a mess, moments later, Bing mumbling filthy praise as you writhe in front of him. “Wow…you needed that, huh?” He stands up, wiping his mouth and kissing you, you moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

“Mhm,” you reply, your mouth still on his. “I always need you.” 

“Good,” he grins. He plants a sweet kiss on your nose, winking at you. “We'd better go clean up.” 

---

It's just as Harry's spitting toothpaste into the sink that you hear the doorbell ring. You both look at each other, wincing and waiting for the inevitable screech that strangely, doesn't come. You take a final look at yourself in the bathroom mirror before running to the door, Harry following close behind you, his hands squeezing your butt as you turn away.

“Hey!” you squeal, playfully swatting at him. He chuckles, pulling you towards him again for a quick kiss. 

The doorbell rings again, and Harry goes to open the door. “Here he is!” he shouts, pulling his friend into a hug. “Robbie Rosenthal!”

“Croz, how are ya?” he responds, slapping him on the back. He makes eye contact with you stood behind the pair of them, giving them time to greet one another after so long. 

“Jeez, Croz,” He pulls away, smiling at you. “Wonderful to see ya. And this must be the Mrs Jean Crosby.” 

“Hi, Rosie. A pleasure, finally!” You go to shake his hand, but he pulls you into a huge bear hug. 

“So, so, good to finally meet you.” 

He follows you and Harry into the house, placing his bag by the door. 

“How was your journey, bud?” Harry asks, placing a cold beer in front of him. 

“Ah, not so bad,” he responds, taking a sip. “Jo says she's sorry she couldn't be here.” With that, he glances over at you, and you share a sad glance.

“Oh, my sweet Jo,” you respond wistfully. Jo had been part of the team of ladies keeping you upright in many ways during the time Harry was away. She was always there with a listening ear, a kind heart and a shoulder to cry on when things got especially tough. Because of that, she is now one of your most treasured friends, and holds such a special place in your heart. “I miss her terribly. How is she? Of course, we write weekly but it's not the same as being around her.”

“I know, Jean. She's doing great, beautiful as ever. We've been fixing up a little house to move into after we're married. You guys are gonna come, right?”

“You think we'd miss that, Rose? Come on, man, you know me better than that!” The men laugh, clinking beer bottles as you're pulling vanilla ice cream from the freezer to serve with the pie when a soft cry pours through from the living room into the kitchen. You nod apologetically towards the men and go retrieve the baby.

“Hi, sunshine,” you murmur, picking him up. “That was a good nap, huh? Good boy, I'm sure you feel much better now. Guess who's here?” You lay him down on the changing mat to change his diaper, cooing all the while. “That's right, my boy! Uncle Rosie. Uncle Rosie's here to see you!” 

You feel the presence of someone in the doorway, and look up to see Harry, his arms crossed, smiling at you and the baby. 

“What, darling?” You say, buttoning the baby's romper. 

“That never gets old, sweetheart. You and him, me being here to see it. I love it.” He walks over and takes the baby from you, kissing his chubby cheeks before kissing yours. “I love you, Mrs Crosby.”

“I love you more, Bing.”

Rosie gasps as Croz brings the baby into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up and softening at the same time. He stands up, the chair squeaking on the kitchen floor as he reaches his hands out, holding the baby to his body.

“Hi, buddy!” He chirps, smiling down at him. “How's it goin’? Huh? You running mom and dad ragged? Yeah? That's what I thought, little guy. Good job!” He carries on like this, rambling in a voice that's several octaves higher than you just heard, the baby gurgling in response.

“Oh, you guys,” he says, back to his normal husky tone, his eyes shining. “He's beautiful.” 

---

The rest of the day passes quickly, both men rushing around you and switching the baby between them, so you can sit down and rest. Thankful for the extra pair of hands, you take the opportunity to take a long, hot bath and relax, your Bing coming in for just a moment to sit on the edge of the tub, telling you a story from their time in England that he'd just remembered thanks to Rosie and that he just had to tell you immediately, all while rubbing lavender soap into your legs. 

While you're getting ready for bed, you reread Jo's latest letter, which you plan to reply to in the morning.

Darling Jean,

How are you? Good, I hope. I'm so sorry to read that the little guy isn't sleeping well. I imagine that can be so exhausting.

I'm glad Robbie will be there in a few days. That extra pair of hands around so you can relax will be welcome, I'm sure. I'm just so sorry I cannot be there too, to be with you while the boys share their anecdotes. While our men may have lost so much in the years they were away from us, I'm glad it gave us something: each other. You are one of my dearest friends and I am forever glad and grateful that your Harry and my Robert became friends, thus putting us together. I wouldn't know how to live without you now. 

Back to not being able to join Robbie on this trip: tell him to hurry up and marry me so I'm able to come see you and the baby. Start dropping hints now, lady! I'm dying to see you and my beloved nephew. 

Goodbye for now, my dear. All my love, always.

Your friend,

Jo

You smile, placing the letter back on your nightstand, sniffling a little. She is right; the men losing so much, yet you both gaining this friendship is bittersweet. Her being there for you when Harry came home on leave, your nerves wrecked after not seeing your husband for years. She was one of the first people you told when you found out you were pregnant, both of you weeping with joy and hugging. Wiping your present tears away, you run downstairs to take the baby so that Bing can take the first sleep shift. 

“Harry, darling,” you coo. “You'd better sleep if you want to take Rosie golfing tomorrow morning!”

“Oh, thanks, honey,” he says, clumsily standing from the couch so as not to disturb the dozing baby in his arms. “Here ya go, buddy,” he says, placing the baby in your waiting arms. “Go to mama. Goodnight, my son.” He kisses him on the head, then it's your turn, placing a deep kiss on your mouth. 

“Hold on, you guys,” Rosie starts, placing his whiskey glass on the table in front of him. “You aren't going to bed together?”

“We can't right now, Rosie,” you say, sadly. “Little guy here wakes at all hours, so we take it in turns right now.”

“I'm not having that!” he says, shocked. “Go to bed together, I'm here for a reason. Uncle Rosie and his new best buddy can have a few hours to get to know one another a bit better. You've got jazz, a record player and I've got arms that aren't exhausted to be able to hold him all hours.”

“Are you sure, bud?” Harry says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, Croz. Go curl up with your wife. I'll be here.”

“Thanks, doll,” you say, a grateful smile on your face. “Come wake us if there's any trouble, okay?” You place the dozing baby in his bassinet next to the armchair Rosie is sitting in, and gently pat his shoulder in thanks.

“I wouldn't dream of it. Goodnight, you two!”

---

You and Harry ascend the stairs together, breathing a sigh of grateful relief. Pulling his shirt off, your Bing walks towards you, his hands finding their way up your night dress. “How's about we pick up where we left off earlier?” he winks, his hands getting further up your bare skin.

“Hmm, yes please.”

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing you deeply. “Just be quiet, Mrs Crosby. We don't want the cops called on us.” 

[gomzwrites]

The taskforce 141’s favourite steamy moments 

Contain smut(18+), minors do not interact

a/n: I wanted to write something that the 141 members like the most whenever they have some spicy moment with the reader >:) so I decided to give smut writing a go! These are arranged based on length, I apologise for writing such a short one for Ghost as I was struggling to make it as gender-neutral as possible(if it still comes out as fem, Im so sorry!), maybe next time I’ll do specific gender one post at a time, but for now enjoy this mess :> Tags: xgn! Reader, dry humping/grinding, eating out(reader receiving), submissive, teasing, riding(implied sorta), biting, slightly possessive behaviour, hand job - let me know if i missed any tags reader's text is in purple PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Simon Ghost Riley - taste

Ghost likes it when you run your fingers along his hair, soft and gentle as he closes his eyes and savour the gesture. But he likes it best when you scratch his hairline and lock your hands in his short blonde curls. 

Ghost has been in between your thighs since he dragged you into his room, he laps on your entrance as he sloppily licks up your sensitive sex, sinful slurping and moans filling the room. He works his tongue expertly, mixing those arousal juices with his saliva as he grunts and groans. You watch with teary, half-lidded eyes as he slowly retracts from your aching sex and trails teasing kisses around your thighs before he bites down as you jolt.

S-simon…! 

You whine out his name as he hums and graze his teeth along your thighs, taking his sweet time as he watches you grow increasingly desperate, turning into a whimpering mess on his bed because of him.

He spread your leg further as he let his tongue dance against you, watching your back arches up as he moan into your sex, causing a shiver to run down your spine as his deep husky voice reverberated through your entire body. He looks up to you with those dark eyes that are blown out and filled with desire, hungrily pinning your hips down with his eyes alone. 

“Be good”, was all he said before he latch onto you again as he devour you like there was no tomorrow. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John Soap MacTavish - wants

You struggle to breathe properly as your chest is fully pressed on top of your desk, now messy and with papers and reports that are scattered about and long forgotten. 

Grunts and moans filled your room as Soap has your hands pinned on top of your head, his other hand grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your hips that always leave purplish-red marks the next day. 

“Fuck y/n…..” Soap slurs as he buckled his hip at your ass, both of you still have your gears and clothes on, leaving only the bulky vest on the floor as he grinds on you, so desperate, so fucking desperate. 

He leans down to bite on the back of your neck causing you to moan as you feel his tongue lap at the bite marks and suck gently to soothe the flesh, now littered with goosebumps. You can feel how warm and hot he is from your back despite the layers of clothes, and you can hear his heartbeat too when he starts thrusting you faster, harsher, pressing his chest and his hips on you, as if he’s moulding your entire body as both of you are mushed together perfectly. 

‘It's not enough…” he growls as he continues grinding on you, voice getting lower as he frowns and bites down on your neck again, another mark as he lets out pants of frustration, you gasp and moan at his bites as you push your hips back to meet his.

‘Yeah just like that…fuck…..fuck. me.” he lets out a deep sigh as both of you fight to push your hips towards each other to be impossibly close, you can feel it too, you can feel how he angles his hip so that every time he snaps and presses onto you, you can feel his tip poking at your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as you sob softly.

You want him, just as badly as he wants you.  God it’s not enough, it’s never enough at all and yet every single fucking time, he does it still, it's too painfully good to stop, to pause this heating moment to remove some fabric, no, there’s no way he’ll stop, it's as if he’s afraid that doing so will result in these pent-up emotions and arousal slipping away.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price - voice

John likes it when you hold back your moans and voices whenever you guys do it in his office, since his room is in the centre of the base, that means there are other rooms besides, and the walls are not exactly the thickest.

Sure, he absolutely loves your moans and the way you scream his name whenever he pounds you hard never fails to make him lost in ecstasy. But nothing riles him up more than hearing the voices you make that only he gets to hear.

He loves it when you suppress your moans, because it makes it so your voice tends to become whinier, and more desperate, reaching a pitch that sometimes has surprised him and yourself. He loves it because when you try to be quiet by squeezing your head into his neck, mouth biting on his collar as he drags his thick cock in and out of you, he gets to hear all those little gasps and pretty little moans that are barely audible.

John loves it, and he absolutely likes to break that resolve of yours, he likes to push all the buttons to see you crumble before him, and he knows when he is on the right track when you start to pant harder, and those whimper escapes more as you shakily grab onto his arm, 

J-John….please…

he smirks as the pleas come spilling out from your mouth whenever you feel like you couldn't hold in your moans more.

“Awwww….too much?” 

He would whisper back into your ears as he draws out each word in his deep honey voice, hands coming down on your waist before he slams it down hard on his hip, causing a startled yelp and a jolt of shiver running down your spine and let out a string of suppressed curses and moans.

He chuckles deeply, hot breath fanning against your neck when he watches your eyes tear up and your mouth opens as you let out a silent scream, still holding on as you shake your head and mutter to him, “N-no…m-my voice-” you didn’t finish your words as he clashes his mouth with yours, swallowing your pitiful pleas before biting down your lower lip as he pulls back, smirking as he bites down your shoulder.

“Let it out”, he challenges you with a raspy voice as he kisses the bite marks around your neck and nibbles softly when he coos at you, watching you squirm around as he gives you a mischievous look, oh he is going to, and will bully you until he has you screaming his name.  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kyle Gaz Garrick - hands

Kyle loves it whenever you take your time and tease him with your hands, you can feel how his thigh muscle tensed up and how he let out his breath shakily whenever you trail your finger around him. He always likes it when you start slow, gently trailing along his neck first as you kiss and softly nibble his ears, before you slip your hands down lower as you rest it on his chest, and those eyes….those big doe eyes of yours whenever you look up to him and whisper so sweetly, honey tone dripping out from your irresistible mouth absolutely drives him mad every time, and send his head into a spiral heat of want.

You like it, hm?

He gives a nod as he lay back on the sofa, completely melting under you touch as he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your teasing hand trailing around his chest, sometimes flicking his nipples that cause him to jolt as you giggle,

Mhm, you do like it…

Fuck, you’ve barely done anything and he already feels like his losing his mind, only being able to nod frantically as words fail to come into his mind. As you slowly reach down, resting your palm just shy above his pants, his grip on your hip tightens as he desperately wants you to go lower, to give him what he wants. He loves it because you always manage to rile him up, giving some relief but never enough, it's like you knew exactly how he works. 

Hmmmmm what do you want…pretty boy?

You whisper back teasingly as you brush your lips against his ear, you watch as his boxers get tighter when his arousal increases, even a small stain was visible now the more you tease him with the nickname, his favourite one, among all the other things you call him.

“Ah fuck….please y/n…”

He begs as you slowly pull down his boxers, bit by bit as he lifts his hips up on instinct to help you remove them, then you slowly let him free of these hellish restrictions, and you make sure your hand doesn't touch his hard cock that flings up as you remove the boxers, watching the red angry tip leaking as he lets out a content sigh. Yet as free as he is at the moment, he needs more.

“y/n….god…please….”

He whines softly again as you rest your hand on his V-line, trailing those deep beautiful grooves as you hum idly and press your body against his. You continue moving your hand along the V-line before you lightly ghost his cock with the middle knuckle of your index finger, running it all the way from his tip to the base. 

Please what hm?

He lets out another whimper when you tease him again, trying to be good as he bites his lower lip to stop himself from flinching so much from how sensitive and needy he is, he nuzzles into your neck as he pleaded with a desperate tone, voice crackling at the end as he gulps in between words. 

“Please….fuck….please touch me….touch my cock…need to feel you please….”

You chuckle as you kiss his cheek and snake your hand down to hold the base of his cock, watching him buck his hip up to seek those sweet, sweet friction. Who are you to deny him when he begged so nicely?

Good boy~ 

you whisper back huskily as you wrap your hands around his length, he takes a sharp inhale and lets out a trembling moan as he slung his head back to the top of the couch, his hand holding your hips, to ground himself as you start moving your hands around his cock, sliding upwards as you wipe the precum of the tip, teasing the tip as you slowly pump your hand down and watch another string of precum leak and flow down his length, you run your thumb along that one prominent vein as you press on it slightly, the agonizing slow speed you’re doing makes Kyle gasp as he frown and grab your hips tighter,

“fuck, so good….hmm fuck your hands….ah…”, he lets out a loud moan lightly when you kiss his ear lobe, whispering sweet nothing as you attack his ear with your tongue, moaning and letting sloppy noises consume his head, you take this opportunity to reach out and interlace your finger with his other hand as well to overwhelm him in every sense.

He prays internally as he tries his best not to come right here right now, you just started stroking him but he already feels like he’s about to explode. He can’t help it when he can feel your hands, every crease of your finger swiping along his girth as you pump slowly again, god and your thumb? Whenever you use it to press down on him he swears his vision goes white for a moment.  

“Don't stop….” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: yes yes I know yet another longer section for Gaz, I am, and forever will be biased towards our babygirl, YOU CAN'T STOP ME *runs*

[strawberrysturniolo]

i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?

next thing you know….

never grow up // chris sturniolo

summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2

Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb. 

Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.

It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. 

The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls. 

We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other. 

We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like. 

A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life. 

“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16. 

“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”

He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float. 

He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away. 

As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open. 

“Miss me?”

Chris. 

I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom. 

“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off. 

He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”

Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew. 

I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did. 

“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before. 

“I missed your voice.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“

“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”

His face falls. “Yeah.”

I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it. 

“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”

He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”

I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things. 

Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me. 

“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves. 

He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny. 

My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can. 

He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead. 

He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh. 

A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about. 

“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”

“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me. 

I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much. 

“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”

I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better. 

A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet. 

He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did. 

“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory. 

I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right. 

Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.

When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes. 

“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy. 

“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it. 

He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers. 

I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me. 

We will always be rooting for each other no matter what. 

“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.

“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion. 

He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.” 

I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh. 

The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”

He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else. 

He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening. 

“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”

He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”

Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?” 

“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”

“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”

There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life. 

“What?”

“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”

I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”

He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”

Somehow, his feels different. 

I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me. 

I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house. 

So I kissed his cheek like always. 

I tried to.

But Chris moved his head.

His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely. 

He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked. 

I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair. 

What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years. 

I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other. 

I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.

He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds. 

We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”

“What do you want to do then?”

He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.

He does the opposite. 

“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”

My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. 

Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house. 

And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in. 

“Then do something about it,” I taunt.

He loves this invitation.

Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different. 

He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on. 

His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red. 

“Holy shit.”

I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down. 

“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”

He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.

I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation. 

“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”

I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation. 

When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere. 

“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”

I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”

In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.

“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”

I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me. 

“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.

He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs. 

I love you.

He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me. 

My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him. 

When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears. 

I’m having sex with my best friend. 

He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.

“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up. 

“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down. 

His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us. 

Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”

All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”

He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.

He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”

I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this. 

My best friend and I fucked. 

And he doesn’t do relationships. 

“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back. 

He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.

I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship. 

We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this. 

Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest. 

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag IX (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

~

The first thing you registered was the most painful pounding in your head.

You didn’t drink often, and when you did, it certainly was never to the degree that you did last night. Your throat felt scratchy, your mouth felt dry, and your eyes felt tight. However, you felt like that last one had nothing to do with the drinking. Bits and pieces from the previous night came back to you, and you remembered crying into JJ’s arms about Rafe.

At the thought of your boyfriend, something tugged at the back of your mind.

You were lying down on an unfamiliar surface, both the fabric beneath you and the smell of the room foreign. It smelled like a mix of weed and ocean water and burnt wood, making your nose twitch, and when you finally peeled your eyes open…you paused.

Kie was knocked out on the chair across from you.

You stared at her for a good while in confusion before it registered that Kie wasn’t asleep at your house because you weren’t at your house. Your lips parted as you slowly lifted your head, eyes roaming over the inside of a house you’d only been in twice. You were still at John B.’s, and there was that tugging in the back of your mind again, something important—yet still unknown—nagging at you.

Much more awake, now, the rest of the night came back to you.

You’d drunkenly confessed the true nature of your relationship to JJ—something you were still conflicted about—and he’d kissed you again. You didn’t know if it was the kiss or the full weight of your confession hitting you, but you remembered stumbling away. You remembered drinking some more, throwing them back at an alarming rate, and ignoring JJ’s concern as he discreetly tried to get you to stop.

You recalled throwing yourself into another drinking game with Sarah and her friends, something that resulted in your head in the toilet. Your attitude had been contagious, Sarah and Cleo and Kie sharing a similar fate. John B. and Pope were high, you weren’t trying to listen to a word JJ said, and you’d passed out on the couch.

You’d passed out on the couch.

You hurriedly sat up at that thought, eyes wide and stomach turning.

You’d briefly wondered what time it was, but it only now registered that light was bleeding in through the window, and it wasn’t the light of the moon. Within seconds your entire body felt overheated, and your heart felt like it was in your throat. Stumbling to your feet, you almost tripped over Sarah on the floor, the loud thud of your foot making her groan.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, frantically looking around for your phone.

You heard Sarah mumble something as you rushed around the room before pausing.

You’d left your phone at Kie’s to make Rafe think you were still over there. You pressed your hand to your mouth, feeling like you were going to be sick, head spinning. It was the next day, and you didn’t doubt that you probably had hundreds of missed calls from Rafe, knowing your boyfriend well enough to know he would only call so much before just getting in his truck.

“Oh my God,” you mumbled again, and by this point, Sarah was waking up.

“What?” she groaned. “What time is it?”

Your stomach wouldn’t stop jumping, and you frantically blinked back tears.

“I need to call Rafe,” you forced out, trying to not be sick.

Sarah wasn’t reacting fast enough for you, sighing and sitting up, blonde hair going every which way.

“What…?”

“I need to call Rafe!”

You hadn’t meant to sound so shrill, Kie making a noise of disapproval as she was forced to wake up. You didn’t even consider that you’d be waking up the whole house, quickly wiping your eyes. Sarah was fully lucid and awake now, hurriedly standing and worriedly eyeing you. She swallowed, pausing for half a second before looking around for her phone.

You only just noticed that JJ was sleeping on the floor closest to John B.’s room, the blond standing as Sarah spotted her phone on the table. You pressed your hands to your face, trying to slow your breathing, but nothing was working. The air felt too thick, and your head felt too spacey, and your fingers wouldn’t stop trembling.

“Y/N…”

You ignored JJ, snatching Sarah’s phone as she handed it to you.

“Hey, I’ll talk to Rafe,” she gently offered. “You just got drunk and passed out. He’ll…”

You didn’t hear the rest of Sarah’s words, quickly making your way outside to the porch. You heard her sigh, Kie’s voice just barely reaching your ears as she asked something. Your hand wouldn’t stop shaking as you held it to your mouth, the other pressing Sarah’s phone to your ear. Your back was pressed to the wall as you sat down, knees pulled up onto the bench. You took a deep breath to try and calm yourself again, but it was in vain.

…because Rafe answered on the first ring.

“Where the hell-?”

“Rafe…”

You softly cut him off, swallowing at the silence that met you. Any remnants of a hangover were long gone the moment you realized you’d slept at John B.’s. The fear of what waited for you when you went home had sobered you up, mind going a mile a minute as you wondered what you were thinking last night. Rafe was so quiet—you couldn’t even hear him breathing—and you felt a few tears escape.

“Rafe-.”

“Where are you?”

The question was simple enough, but you actually felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of the answer. You briefly closed your eyes, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“I’m with Sarah and Kie and-.”

“I didn’t ask you who you were with…” you sank in your seat. “I asked where you were.”

You pressed your fingers to your lips, staring out into John B.’s yard. Your gaze focused on his van as the door opened, Pope scratching his head as he stepped out, and you surmised that he and Cleo had slept in there. Your eyes passed over them and focused on the dock out near the water, memories of what you did out there last night plaguing your thoughts.

“I’m already pissed, so…don’t make it worse by having me repeat myself.”

You pressed your hand to your face, fighting back tears and so angry with yourself for screwing up so bad.

“I’m… I’m at John B.’s.”

The immediate disconnect made more tears escape, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You heard someone step outside onto the porch—joining you—and the silence told you exactly who it was. You didn’t acknowledge him, looking away, and you weren’t sure why. He’d already seen you at your worst last night, but last night was different.

Last night you were drunk and running from your problems by chasing a bottle. Today you were sober and ashamed and wholly afraid of what was going to happen. Someone finally knew, but yet you felt no relief. You didn’t know how to handle someone else knowing why you were so afraid and quiet, right now.

“Is he coming here?”

JJ’s voice was clipped, and you could only nod. Recalling that you had Sarah’s phone, you handed it to him, avoiding his gaze.

“Can you give that back to Sarah?” you sniffed. “…and tell her I’m sorry for snapping like that.”

He didn’t respond right away.

“Y/N…”

His tone had you shaking your head, looking back out into the yard as Pope and Cleo made their way to the house.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered.

You both greeted them as they went inside the house, and from the corner of your eye, you could see JJ lean in.

“Just let me take you back to Kie’s, and then you can wait for him at home.”

You let out a bitter laugh, nodding.

“He’s already on his way…”

That you knew for a fact.

“As bad as things already are, trust me that it’ll be much worse if he gets here, and I’m gone,” you told JJ, finally meeting his eye.

You couldn’t place the look on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched as he stared at you. There was a huge elephant in the room between you, and for once, it wasn’t the kiss nor your complicated feelings for the blond before you. For two years, you’d been utterly alone in dealing with Rafe’s wrath, and you didn’t quite know how to feel at the worry bleeding into JJ’s gaze.

“You should go inside,” you quietly told him with a shrug. “I can’t imagine what would happen if he knew you guys were here too.”

JJ looked as if he didn’t want to listen to you, but eventually he did, and you were alone again with your thoughts. Even if you wanted to savor the memory of kissing JJ again, you couldn’t. The whole thing was tainted beyond belief, and if it weren’t for him periodically sleeping in your pool house, you would be sure that you’d never have the chance to see him again after today.

It was some time before you heard the familiar rumble of a truck, and you knew that Rafe had wasted no time and had probably run every stop sign just to get here. You glanced over when Sarah joined you on the porch, gaze apologetic as you stood.

“Let me talk to him,” she offered again. “What can he possibly say to a few girls having too much to drink and crashing?”

There was a silent agreement that Rafe couldn’t know about the guys’ involvement.

“You’d be surprised,” was all you said, sighing at Sarah’s pleading look. “That’s nice of you, Sarah, but I doubt it’ll make him feel any better.”

She merely ran her hand through her hair as Rafe’s truck came into view. The sight of it made your heart skip a beat, and the blonde teenager huffed.

“You know you deserve better, right?”

Her comment threw you, and unsure of how to respond, you only sent her a shaky smile.

“I’m serious,” she sneered, walking outside with you close behind. “He treats you like he doesn’t trust you, and instead of just going to therapy…”

Her words became louder once Rafe opened the driver’s side.

“…he’d rather take it out on you.”

“I’m not in the mood, Sarah.”

Rafe was talking to his sister, but you didn’t miss the cold look he fixed you with as he approached you. You shuddered when he placed a hand on the back of your neck the moment he reached you, lips grazing your forehead as he leaned in.

“…and you really have no reason for that. I took care of your girlfriend just fine,” she told him. “We just had too much to drink, and we fell asleep.”

Your boyfriend just hummed, pulling away to hold your gaze.

“Was that before or after the movie?”

His question came out low, so you knew that was solely for you, and when you merely pressed your lips together, Rafe’s nostrils flared. His hand was still on your neck as he guided you to the passenger’s side, only making the odd hum here and there as Sarah tried to plead your case. When he closed your door, your gaze traveled to the house, eyes lingering on the window as if you could see JJ inside.

“Give it a rest, Sarah,” you heard Rafe say as he opened his door. “You don’t think I know that you hate her being with me? Hmm?”

There was a heavy pause.

“I think you could treat her better, yes, but… You make it seem like I’m doing these things on purpose, Rafe!” Sarah hissed. “It was just girls having fun, and we lost track of time! You’re acting like she committed some grave offense instead of just behaving like a normal twenty-year-old.”

Your boyfriend didn’t respond to that, shutting the door in her face, and you reluctantly put on your seatbelt as he started his truck. You leaned your head back as you stared out of the window, savoring the view because this would be the last time you’d ever be on The Cut. At this point, Rafe was never going to let you out of his sight again if he could help it.

Reluctantly, you glanced at him, and your heart sank at the way he absolutely refused to look at you. Even if his knuckles weren’t completely white as his fingers clutched the wheel, you could almost feel the negativity radiating off of him. Against your better judgement, you said something.

“Rafe…”

You were cautious, unsure of how to proceed.

You’d never fucked up this bad before.

“Rafe, I…”

Your words died in the air when he held a hand up, not sparing you a glance. Mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you, you told yourself not to push your luck, sitting back and turning towards the window.

“Please, say something.”

You closed the front door behind you as Rafe made his way to the kitchen, basically ignoring you. Sarah was still at John B.’s, Ward was probably out taking care of business, and there was no telling where Rose was. Wheezie was probably the only one home, and you were only mildly sure of that only because she rarely left her room.

“Why? So you can give me some more excuses for you not coming home?”

You watched him grab a pot, opening the fridge.

“They wanted to smoke a blunt, and Kie didn’t want her parents’ house smelling like weed.”

It was technically the truth, only you didn’t specify who ‘they’ were. Rafe softly laughed to himself, but it was dry, lacking in humor. You watched him place a pack of hot dogs on the counter, filling the pot with water.

“Why should I believe you?”

His question came out quiet, and you swallowed when he glanced over his shoulder.

“You left your car and your phone at Kie’s,” he murmured, back facing you again. “Almost like you wanted me to believe you were somewhere you actually weren’t.”

You touched your forehead.

“That’s not what happened,” you whispered. “We were in a rush, and I wasn’t thinking.”

“Convenient,” you heard him drawl. “Just as convenient as you ‘knocking out pretty early’ the other week too when I went to Charlotte.”

Your heart dropped at that, and you pressed your lips together when Rafe fully turned around, leaning against the counter. He stared you down, and you frowned at him.

“I mean, what are the chances that you’ve done this twice, now?”

“Rafe-.”

“You see where my head is at though, right?” he wondered, gently touching his temple. “You see why I’m looking at my girlfriend and wondering if she’s actually a sneaky bitch.”

You flinched at the insult.

“…and what if it wasn’t even just you girls?”

“Rafe,” you started, stepping towards him.

“What if John B. and Pope were there? JJ?” he sneered, lip curling over his teeth. “What if you and your new little sidekick are lying to me?”

You took a deep breath.

“You don’t believe that,” you whispered. “…because if you did…”

You threw your hands up.

“We wouldn’t be standing here…talking…”

Rafe crossed his arms over his chest, lips downturned as he nodded. He stared at you for a nerve-wracking amount of time, blue eyes intense and unmoving. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and that always scared you more than knowing. When he let out a small sigh after some time, you didn’t allow yourself to feel relief just yet.

“Come here…”

Resisting the urge to hesitate, you did. There was no escaping whatever Rafe wanted to do, only prolonging it, and you expected a slap or a harsh tug on your arm or even a hand around your throat. You did not expect, however, his hand in your hair and another on the back of your neck. A pained gasp was all that escaped you, the events happening so fast that you only gathered your thoughts in time to press your hand into the counter.

Your face was hovering above the pot of boiling hot water, the steam and heat hitting your skin and making you wince. Your other hand came up on the other side, pressing into the stovetop, and Rafe only pressed down harder on your head. You cried out in pain as you fought to push against his hand, and Rafe only moved closer.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the heat making them water.

“It’s interesting how when I’m around or just around the corner, that phone of yours is glued to your hip…as it should be…”

He pushed your face further down, the sound of the bubbling water reaching your ears.

“…but the moment I give you an inch, the moment I try to be nice,” he hissed. “…all of a sudden you barely give it a second thought, and you just leave it wherever you told me you’d be.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, peeling your eyes open and staring into the hot water.

Your hand slid along the counter, hands clammy from fear and nerves.

“How fucking convenient,” he spat, pressing harder against the back of your head.

You could feel tears spilling over just as Wheezie’s voice reached your ears from the stairs. Rafe let you go, and you stumbled away from him, backing up into the fridge. Rafe’s entire visage was taut, eyes venomous and jaw ticking as he stared you down. Your eyes were wide, and you tearfully blinked, hurrying to wipe your face just as his youngest sister strode into the kitchen.

She scoffed.

“You’re not done with the hotdogs yet?” she practically whined. “You just put them in the water and boil them, Rafe.”

When he looked at her, his face softened some, and he chuckled.

“My bad, Wheezie,” he smiled. “Y/N keeps distracting me.”

They both looked at you, and you swallowed just as she sighed.

“He owes me hotdogs,” the younger girl told you. “You can have some too, but neither one of us will get any if he doesn’t actually cook them.”

She threw him a look to which he lightly laughed, turning back to the stove. You eyed the pot of hot water, pressing your nails into the counter as you cleared your throat.

“Sorry, Wheez,” you breathed. “I’ll try to keep him focused.”

Your voice was shaky, and when Rafe simply glanced at you, dropping the hotdogs in the water, you pressed your hand to your cheek, trying to cool your skin down.

You rinsed out your tub with trembling hands, watching the pink water swirl down the drain. You hadn’t stopped crying since last night, mostly quiet sniffles the moment Rafe rolled off of you, but you hadn’t been able to keep as quiet the moment he left this morning. With one look at the blood on your sheets, you wanted to throw up, but all you’d managed to do was break down.

You couldn’t take any more pain killers, so all that was left was a warm Epsom salt bath. It was far from relaxing, your sobs echoing around the bathroom as you scrubbed off semen and blood. One look in the mirror had you flinching, and you were never more grateful that your parents were out of town until Friday because you were sure this was the worst you’d ever looked. To make matters worse, you just knew the discoloration under your eye was only going to darken.

You tied your robe tight around you as you left your bathroom.

Only to stop short at the sight of JJ.

Your eyes were wide at the picture before you, the blond man standing in your bedroom. Your lips parted, and you opened and closed them, unsure of what to say or do. However, you quickly decided on something once you realized that he wasn’t even looking at you…but instead the sheets you hadn’t managed to pull off the bed.

“JJ…what…?”

You hurried across the room, throwing your comforter over your bed and facing him, gaze questioning. When his blue eye met yours, it wasn’t the warm welcome you were used to, and you hoped that he would ignore what he saw, but he didn’t. His eyes flitted over your face, drinking you in.

“What did he do to you?” he spat, teeth clenched.

You crossed your arms over your chest, looking around him and eyeing your open window.

“Did you break into my room?”

His expression didn’t change, and accepting that he was going to ignore your question until you answered his, you sighed.

“I don’t want to talk about that, JJ,” you whispered.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” he whispered back, moving closer. “…because you’re going to, or I’m telling Sarah.”

You blinked at him, disbelief filling you, and you scoffed. Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes towards the ceiling, falling to sit on the edge of your bed.

“What do you think happened?” you tearfully wondered, shrugging. “I screwed up…and I will be lucky if I can even go pee in a public restroom without him standing over my shoulder.”

Your lips trembled, and you looked away, tears falling. You could feel the blonde’s eyes on you, and you wiped your face.

“What are you doing here, JJ?” you asked in a small voice.

The other guy moved closer, looking down at you, and you swallowed under his scrutiny.

“After the other night and yesterday morning, I had… I had to make sure that…”

He trailed off, no point in finishing because it was visibly obvious that you weren’t okay.

“I saw when you both came home last night, and I climbed up as soon as he left this morning,” he continued. “I really wanted you to be okay.”

His tone sounded defeated, and you wiped your face again. When he touched your face, you winced, and you didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his hand, eyes falling closed when his other hand gently found a home on the back of your head, pushing you to rest your forehead against his torso.

“Where is he?” he asked, voice hard.

“He went to the club with Kelce and Topper,” you murmured. “He’ll be calling every hour or so.”

The ‘or so’ was to keep you on your toes. It was late into the night when he drove you to Kie’s, closely hovering as you got both your phone and your car, truck tailgating you the entire drive home. The moment you’d made it inside of your house, you’d been pushed onto the floor. What commenced was just a blur of harsh kicks and harsh words, and a manhandled journey up the stairs.

The moment Rafe got you into your room, he’d wasted no time in tearing at every article of clothing you had on. Every action—every thrust—was done with the sole purpose to punish you. You hadn’t meant to scream—you rarely did anymore—but it had just hurt so bad that you couldn’t help it. When JJ pulled you to your feet, you curiously eyed him.

He said nothing to you as he pulled your sheets off of your bed, throwing them into a pile on the floor. The look he gave you held a silent question, and you pointed to your closet. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he grabbed a clean set, fixing them on your bed for you, and you felt your throat tighten.

“JJ, you don’t have to…”

You trailed off when he looked over his shoulder at you before continuing the task. When he was done, he moved closer to you, gently taking your arms. He stared at your face with a frown before exhaling.

“You not wanting me to tell Sarah or anyone about this is crazy,” he forced out, jaw ticking. “…but I get it, now. I understand that he’ll…”

JJ took a deep breath.

“I get what’s at stake,” he whispered, eyes looking between yours. “…but you can’t tell me to sit back and do nothing. That’s the tradeoff. You want me to keep quiet, then you let me be here for you.”

You understood where JJ was coming from, and you looked down. Asking JJ to keep quiet about Rafe’s abusive nature was asking a lot, and expecting the younger blond not to worry or help or be there for you in whatever way was asking for even more. It wasn’t really fair, and you reluctantly nodded.

You sat back down on your bed when he left your bedroom, and your mind spun over the predicament you found yourself in. Did…did you have two boyfriends? Is that what JJ was? Or was he simply the guy who treated you well and snuck into your bedroom and kissed you sometimes? It wasn’t right, but then again, the whole situation wasn’t right.

No, you shouldn’t be cheating on Rafe, but Rafe also shouldn’t be hitting you and raping you and hurting you in whatever manner he could whenever he wanted. JJ treated you good, proven in the way he returned upstairs with something cold he’d found in your freezer. His gaze was apologetic as he gently pressed it to your face, and you were unable to stop yourself from wincing.

When JJ sat down next to you, he tugged on you until you were lying down in his lap, looking up at him as he gazed down at you. His free arm made itself comfortable around your waist, and you reached down to cover his hand with yours. You were so used to Rafe’s treatment that you paid no mind to the dull ache between your legs, just thinking about when JJ kissed you again the other night.

It was the last thing that needed to be on your mind, and you closed your eyes.

“You can’t stay long, JJ,” you murmured.

You heard him sigh, although it sounded more like a huff.

“Yeah, I know.”

You felt your eyes burn.

“I don’t think I’ll be going to The Cut again,” you said. “I kind of ruined that.”

You felt and heard JJ lean down, and when his lips brushed over your swollen ones, you opened your eyes. When he pulled away, the blond held your gaze, expression thoughtful.

“That’s okay,” he eventually said. “You don’t have to to see them. We’ll find a way, and…”

He took your hand with his free one.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered to you. “You know exactly where to find me.”

Your chest felt warm at that, and you found yourself eyeing his lips. When he leaned down again, you closed your eyes, ignoring how conflicted you felt. You couldn’t go on like this forever, but JJ and his possible place in your future wasn’t something you wanted to think about. In the moment, after being brutally raped by your boyfriend, you just wanted to feel good.

[gimmeurtmi]

your pregnant crocheting hc had me thinking 👁️ so you know pregnancy brain? Is when pregnant women experience memory loss, lack of concentration and more emotional sensitivity (and more crying) so imagine minho or seungmin trying to keep up with their usual banter/menace/tsundere tendencies with their partner and it goes terribly wrong or backfires

i am deeply familiar with such symptoms yes 😅 (you can get pregnancy brain from any influx or imbalance of estrogen and/or progesterone so i personally experience this a lot so this was very self indulgent djhgfs) i chose seung for this because i felt like he’s more likely to accidentally cross the line than mimo but if you want his version too let me know 🥹

(warnings; swearing, pregnant!reader, tears, slight angst, seungmin is a tsundy dumbass)

“hey, baby,” you yell into the living room as you rummage around the blankets looking for your phone. “is my phone there?”

seungmin and you were supposed to go out for a walk ten minutes ago but you couldn’t seem to find your shoes and then your second earring went missing and now your phone. you kept losing everything lately.

there’s no answer and you’ve already moved the pillows around three times but it’s nowhere. you don’t have any pockets, you’ve already checked your bag. “seung!!!”

“what?” he walks in, eyebrows raised at you.

“can you please help me?” you huff out, “i can’t find my phone and you aren’t helping.”

seungmin laughs loudly, deep and meaningfully like he does when he successfully teases his friends. you don’t really find any part of this funny.

“seung, this isn’t funny!!” you whine, “the bubble tea place is going to close in like,” you tap the phone in your hand, showing its ten minutes before their closing time, “in ten minutes and you said we’d go there but we won’t make it in ten minutes if i can’t find my fucking phone!”

“bubs, are you being serious?” he asks, eyebrows frowning in slight concern. you throw your hands up in the air.

“if you aren’t gonna help me just go on your walk alone then,” you groan, huffing before you sit down on the bed, looking left and right to try and find a hint of where your phone went off to.

“would it really be that hard for you to call me so i can find it?” you glare at him.

“nah,” he chuckles, “i’d like to see this one play out.”

“why are you being like this?” you sigh, looking up at him. seungmin just shrugs, the way he always does, but there’s a slight teasing smirk on his face.

usually, you know why he’s smirking like that at you. there’s some joke, some dance of his that you try and follow while you exchange banter between each other (and maybe throw in a few kisses to the mix). but right now you can’t seem to remember exactly what the conversation was about and if you started teasing him first but it kinda felt like he was laughing at you and you didn’t really like that. you look away from him, feeling suddenly exposed under his gaze.

you take in a deep breath as you pointedly ignore seungmin’s eyes on you. he’s studying you closely but you don’t really get why, and by now you’re sure the bubble tea place is closed and you’ve been craving it so badly for the past ten minutes you think you won’t ever eat again until you can satisfy the need for the softly popping tapioca pearls in your mouth. it’s too late now.

you feel your nose stinging lightly as tears gather up in your eyes. you blink them away, tonguing your cheek to try and calm yourself. you’ve already looked everywhere for your phone and your husband is being insufferable and not helping and your thighs burn all the time and your lower back has a constant dull ache in it and nothing ever makes it better and you want bubble tea so fucking bad.

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a small vibration in your lap.

it’s your phone. your phone!!!!

you jump up, eyes wide as you try and recall just how long it’s been in your lap (did seungmin put it there for you without you noticing?) but before you get to rush over him to thank him you see why the phone vibrated in the first place. a text message.

bubs’ hubs: pabo

your eyebrows frown, reading the message a few times. “you think i’m stupid?”

“what?” seungmin’s jaw practically drops to the floor. he blinks at you.

“you saw the phone was here this whole time and you let me get worried and waste our time just so you could call me stupid?” you feel the familiar stinging back as you blink quickly to stop the sting away. all it does is obscure your vision when the big drops start clinging onto your lashes.

“you’re not stupid,” seungmin says, quietly.

“but you just said i was, you could’ve said here’s your phone but what you said is stupid.”

“no, it wasn’t as like ‘stupid’ i meant pabo like affectionately you know, like how i say you’re annoying and i hate you and stuff?” he raises his eyebrows hopefully, dipping his head enough to look directly into your eyes. you see his own brown ones fill with worry when he sees just how much you’re crying.

“i’m annoying and you hate me…” you confirm quietly, walking past seungmin and into the living room. you didn’t realise seungmin thought that about you, but it was best to have everything out in the open you guess.

“what else?” you say when you feel seungmin following you. “am i ugly? do you think i’m mean and hopeless?”

“no, no, no,” seungmin quickly grabs your wrist, cupping your fingers in both of his large hands. “you misunderstood.”

“because i’m stupid,” you agree.

“no!” seungmin huffs. “you just couldn’t find the phone, it’s okay.”

“but you texted saying t—“

“—i texted so you’d find it. i thought it would make you laugh because objectively it is kinda silly to look for your phone when you’re holding it,” you feel more tears slip down your cheeks, “and you’re super cute when you’re silly.”

you squeeze his hands softly.

“seung,” you feel a sob rip through your chest, “my bubble tea.”

“i know,” he soothes, squeezing your hand tightly, “i’ll get you one from somewhere else?”

you nod quickly. seungmin affirms with a low hum and kisses your forehead, but you recoil.

“hey,” he lets out softly.

“i don’t, i don’t get why i’m annoying,” you shake your head, wiping away at your stubborn tears.

“you aren’t,” seungmin whines, jumping in place a few times. “i was just teasing!”

“but why would—“

“—because i’m the pabo, okay? i didn’t realise it was over the line. i just wanted to make my bubs laugh.”

“it wasn’t funny,” you stubbornly mumble.

“i know. bad puppy,” he frowns at you, or more like himself, and you giggle at the way his bottom lip sticks out.

he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly as he sways the pair of you from side to side. seungmin feels bad, awful even, for disregarding how emotional you might be. especially now while carrying his child for him. so he kisses you softly, the kiss stretching over a couple of minutes, before he quickly orders you the bubble tea you wanted and insists on cuddling you until he’s forgiven. he already is, you aren’t really so sure why you were that upset at something pretty trivial, but the tears kept coming and you couldn’t help them.

seungmin kisses them away regardless of how embarrassed you were by the whole thing, and then he presses a soft kiss on your belly too.

[winkwonkwankwenk]

Nanami Head-Cannons!! (SFW & NSFW)

SFW

Works like a dog to provide for you, definitely works overtime and stacks vacation days like change in a jar. Some weeks you only ever feel him peck your cheek in the morning and the next time you see him with be the weekend- if you're lucky.

He misses you constantly, so much that he'll often accidently type your email along with his usual ones and you end up knowing all the company's trade secrets. Oops.

He sends you gifts every day he's away, from flowers to cakes to flights to your favorite places- he gifts you so often you've got a closet just for all the teddy-bears and a greenhouse to preserve your bouquets.

The two of you stay in a massive house so it's very lonely when he's gone. He makes sure to call you at least twice a day, morning and night.

He knows what time you wake up and time you go to sleep because he's memorized your sleeping pattern. He knows when to send chocolates and shopping money because he has your period app on his phone too and pays close attention to the notifications.

He came home to you crying in bed one night and called out of work for a month to make up for loss time. Ever since then, even during busy seasons, he makes sure to at least spend a week with you.

During his days off, he treats you to expensive dates cute strolls through gardens. He wants to impress and please you daily, and worries if you don't seem to be enjoying yourself. "Do you want a different dish?" and "Honey, we can go somewhere else if you'd prefer to" are phrases you've often heard when he's getting into his head.

He has a photo of you in his wallet and several in his office. Your wedding photos decorate his desk, along with vacation photos and cute pictures he snuck of you when you weren't looking. You're his Lock screen, home screen, and background on all of his computers.

He's never raised his voice at you and he never will. Even when the two of you fight, he can't help but dote on you and promise you the world. Whatever has you upset, he'll fix, even if it costs him an arm and a leg. "I like when you express yourself, Honey." He'll apologize for anything he's done to upset you and when you struggle to communicate he patiently waits and praises you for every word you manage to say. "Tell me what's on your mind and I'll do everything I can to make things better"

He's a funny man, his humor a mix of sarcasm and corny jokes. He'll tell you knock-knock jokes when you're sad and awful dad jokes when the two of you have calmed down from an argument but you can't help but laugh when he pulls you into a warm hug. How are you supposed to stay mad at such a charmer?

He'll feel guilty when he comes home to see you cooked dinner days ago and he never got to eat it. To make up for it, he'll cook you breakfast and leave it out for you before he heads off to work- even if he's exhausted. It's the least he can do.

NSFW (Kinky stuff ahead per usual hehe)

He has...scandalous pictures of you locked in a drawer of his desk. They come in handy during late shifts when he needs to let off steam and doesn't want to wake you. He'll bite down on his tie and groan as he jerks off under his oval desk.

He gets so turned on when you pull his tie. One night, he came home tense to see you having a late night spa session in the bath. You asked him to join and he insisted on showering to get off the grime of the office but then you pulled his tie with those dainty little hands and pulled him into the water. You thought he would be mad, but then he stripped out of his clothes before you could blink and fucked you senseless. Something about the pressure around his neck really gets his blood flowing.

Nanami caught you listening to him working out once and made sure to invite you to join him. He pinned you under him as he did push-ups, making sure you heard every grunt and groan. "You like that?" He whispered into your ear as you squeezed your thighs together under him. "I'll make sure to be extra vocal from now on."

Phone sex- the two of you have it at least once a week. Sometimes the pictures in his desk aren't enough and he has to wake you. His breaths are heavy, voice husky as he shows you his boner. "Look what you do to me, Y/N..." He'll whisper as your groggy eyes struggle to focus, "Help me fix it, okay Honey?"

He found your toys in the closet one day when he came home and was pissed. Not because you were using them but because he wasn't there to watch. He asked if you'd be okay with him having a camera in the bedroom to watch you and was so excited when you said yes. From then on, you've made sure to give him his own special liveshow- always sending him a text before you masturbate.

One day, he had left his lunch at home, so you brought it to him only to accidently interrupt a meeting. Before you could apologize he had you in his lap in his big office chair, secretly fingering you. You buried your face into his thick neck to stay quiet and squeezed his shoulders for relief. The moment the meeting was over he bent you over his desk and rammed into you.

His voice is so soft and sweet during sex, especially when he coos and praises you while talking you through your orgasms. "Y/N, look at me, Honey." and "Such a good girl...keep clenching like that, okay?" along with "What a pretty woman you are...I'm so lucky to have you."

His favorite positions are Mating-press and Nelson because he gets so deep inside of you he can feel your womb eagerly opening for his release.

He's got a monster. It's not eight inches, not nine, not even ten- 12 girthy inches casually hangs between his legs. He always makes sure to prep you well before even pulling it out.

Your pleasure over his- always. Even if he can barely keep his eyes open he'll put his back into it to make you orgasm.

Vacations are always romantic trips to one of his beach houses. He'll feed you chocolate-covered strawberries and expensive wines, then lay you down on the beach and eat you out until your toes curl in the sand.

He's going to put a baby in you. Period. The two of you have already discussed expanding the family and the moment you were on board he made sure to empty his balls every time the two of you had sex. He made sure not a drop of his cum spilled out, sometimes plugging it in with one of those toys you would play with in the livestreams.

You're his priority, in and out of bed. He treats aftercare like his biggest responsibility. He'll run a warm bath, carry you to it, wash you, dry you, comb and brush your hair- the list goes on and on. He'll order your favorite food and feed it to you, then soothe you until you fall asleep in his arms. He likes your body, but he loves you.

Like my writing? Check out my Ao3!!

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Fill my requests up!!😋

[papercorgiworld]

Whipped for their tutor II: A Reward

Mattheo, Theo and Enzo

Tutoring the Slytherin boys isn’t easy, so you use the fact that they’re absolutely whipped as a way to motivate them. 

Find part one here, but you don’t have to read it. There’s not that much plot.

Warning: suggestive and a little bit of smut

This took longer than necessary just because it took me a week to come up with something for Enzo. Also, little announcement, I'm gonna mix requests instead of work chronological because I'm struggling with inspiration and I wanna write things I can instead of stay stuck on the things I can't, because I'm short on time atm, but I should get to all of them eventually. Happy readings! Have a lovely weekend!

“Mate, quidditch practice, remember?” Blaise’s face appears by the door as he looks at his friend.

Mattheo

He looks up from his book and nods at Blaise. “Right, I gotta go.” Mattheo says, turning to face you as he slams his book shut. 

“Your work isn’t finished yet.” You state and meet his eyes, a small smile tugging on your lips as you play to win this situation. Mattheo looks at Blaise and back to you, he smiles at your silly comment, quidditch was way more important than studying. “I can’t miss quidditch training.” Mattheo argues.

You pout and your teasing eyes lock with his. Blaise notices Mattheo’s face going red, but what Blaise doesn’t know is that it’s because your hand is resting on Mattheo’s crotch. Softly your hand moves and you feel his member twitch. Such a sensitive boy. “On second thought,” Mattheo’s voice comes out almost squeaky and he forces a cough to regain compose “I’m not allowed to play the game if I don’t pass tomorrow’s test so I better study.” 

Blaise knows better than to ask questions and simply nods before leaving. “Such a good student.” The words drip off your lips as Mattheo’s eyes land on your lips. “If you put in a few more hours of studying then you’ll nail tomorrow’s test. And Matty, if you get an A I’ll give you a little reward.” Your words are a seductive whisper and you know you’re doing it right when you feel Mattheo get harder. Your hand moves over the bulge in his pants and like the good student Mattheo is, his eyes fall from you to the pages of his summary. 

You notice his blush and his hard swallow. He was trying his best to focus, but struggling with hardness in his pants and your hand. Seeing him like this, you couldn’t deny it, it turned you on a little as well. He was so fun to play with. “Maybe it’s best I let you study alone for today.” You whisper close to his ear and his puppy eyes meet yours. He doesn’t want you to leave. “I feel you’re … a little distracted.” You say lips almost brush his ear as your hand strokes him member one last time before moving away. “Good luck.” You say and you kiss his cheek, staining his face with your lipstick. Maybe she didn’t notice… Mattheo stares down at his crotch. Who am I kidding! Why am I so sensitive to her? Salazar, she drives me crazy!

***

Mattheo was really excited when the professor returned his test a few days later. When he spotted you talking to your friend in the hallway that same day he wanted to offer you his test but worried he would look like a fool he decided against it, cursing himself for being so needy for you. He needed your praise, he thought about it almost every night, but his ego kept him from begging for it.

So he eagerly waited for the next tutoring session and his eagerness was obvious to you since he was early. You walk into the classroom and are surprised to find Mattheo seated with his books out on the table. When he sees you walk in he gets up and smiles at you and you can’t help but smile at how whipped he is. “I got an A.” He blurs out before you even get the chance to sit down. You lick your lips and Mattheo feels his face heat up. Salazar, I sound desperate. I can’t even think with her around. You take a step closer to him and you lean suggestively close. Mattheo tries to meet your lips but you teasingly avoid the kiss. You chuckle softly, making him flustered, moving to whisper in his ear. “What did you think your reward would be?” 

Mattheo swallows and his eyes lock with yours. “You.” He breathes, not hiding his desire for you. While waiting for you in this classroom filled with sexual tension Mattheo’s mind and body had gone wild with anticipation for what his reward could be. Every possible fantasy of the past weeks had shot through his mind as he had waited for you, for his reward.  “You think that you can have me because you had one good test?” You raise an eyebrow. “An A+.” He specifies and he immediately feels embarrassed by how pathetic he must sound, trying to impress you with his grades. However, he manages to snap out of his embarrassment and regains some of his composure. With a slight teasing tone to his voice he speaks up. “You said I would get a reward.” He does his best to sound confident and you’re almost impressed by how good he sells it. 

Your hand moves over his chest and lower, pressing your chest against his. “Well, as a reward you don’t have to pretend like you’re not rock hard, you can take care of yourself.” He’s baffled. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. “Sit.” You command and he does so without thinking. You sit down as well and slowly unbuckle his belt, knowing that you’ll find his cock hard once again. “Now, there, treat yourself.” You say almost mocking him. His eyes stay focused on yours as his hand slowly and hesitantly moves towards his member. Your eyes meet his and you feel yourself drawn to his pretty eyes. You lean in and Mattheo’s eyes fall to your lips as his hand slowly strokes his dick. He was so turned on by you, but he barely dared to make a move, afraid that you would reject him if he didn’t play it right. 

Almost brushing his lips you halt and let your eyes fall down to his hand jerking his rather large size. You let your hand rest on his thigh, making him bite his lip. “You’re quite impressive.” You whisper and Mattheo grips his cock a little hard. You loved how needy he was for your praise, for you, but he hated how much control you had over him.

Theodore

You sit opposite of Theo and don’t see Blaise, but still roll your eyes. How dare he interrupt your tutoring session. Obviously your tutoring was more important than quidditch. Theo gathers his papers and you tilt your head, when he looks up at Blaise to say something you quickly move your leg. Theodore’s eyes widen as your elegant heels move between his thighs. Your tongue slowly wets your lips as the slytherin’s eyes meet yours. You notice how his chest heaves and you have to keep yourself from smirking, but you play it professional and look at him through your lashes. Blaise coughs as he waits for a response from his friend. “I can’t.” Theodore finally answers, but there’s a hint of reluctance in his voice. He hated giving into you, but he just could not help himself. He needed to stay and see if he had a chance with you. 

Blaise nods and disappears, making you smile proudly at Theodore. You don’t say anything and remove your high heels from between Theo’s legs, making him relax a bit. When he doesn’t return his attention to his pages but rather continues to stare at you, you get up from your seat and walk over to him. Your hands rest on his shoulder, massaging them gently before letting your hands slip down under his loosened shirt to his chest. “You really need to pass that transfiguration test so you better focus.” Your taunting whisper makes Theo lick his lip as his mind wanders to all the things he would rather do than focus.

When you still don’t get the right response you lean down so your lips brush his ear. “Be a good student. I like good students. If you work through all chapters by tonight you might earn yourself a reward.” You let a hand rest just above his belt as your other hand grabs his chin, making him face you. “Can you do that for me?” You're toying with him and he knows it, but he wants to be your toy so badly. The last bit of protest within Theo disappears and he nods. You let go of his pretty face and he returns to his summary. 

“If you’ve finished your summary, come find me so I can check it for you.” You say and quickly grab your stuff. “You’re leaving?” Theodore blurs and he gets flustered by how desperate he sounded. You chuckle. “Yes, I do things outside of tutoring, but you can come and find me in my dorm when your summary is done.” You turn on your heels and he watches your beautiful figure disappear, but as soon as you’re out of sight he starts working on his summary, eager to have it finished and see you again.

***

A knock on the door has you turn your head. Before you can say anything the door slowly opens to reveal Theodore and you smile when he shows you a small bundle of papers. “My summary.” He states still not entering your room, but rather leaning against the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Theodore knew better than to go into a girl’s room without her invitation. He learned that from Pansy, the hard way. You're amused by his good behaviour and get up from your seat to take his summary. You flip through the pages and Theo watches you with anticipation. Your hair fell perfectly, your eyes were engaged with his sloppy handwriting and ever so gently you bit your plush bottom lip. He was about to adore the rest of your body, but you speak up and meet his eyes. “This is actually really thorough. I’m impressed.” A smug smile forms on Theodore lips, but as smug as he tries to act he’s blushing as well, touched by your compliment on his work. 

“If you put your mind to it, Theodore, you can get much better grades.” You continue and Theo chuckles. “I’m just rarely motivated, but you changed that.” You're surprised by his confidence, but you can’t deny that you like it. “Someone’s after his reward.” You quip and Theodore feels himself heat up. It was obvious there was no need to deny it, he wanted you and you both knew it. “You promised.” Theo says as he leans his head back a little in an attempt to look nonchalant about the whole situation.

You lay the papers down on your desk and side eye him before nodding as a silent invitation to enter, which he quickly does. He closes the door by pressing his back against his, eyes never leaving your body. His hungry eyes make you chuckle. “Just out of curiosity, what do you think you’re going to get for doing something as basic as writing a summary?” You elegantly walk over to him and seductively trace a finger over his chest. “I want a chance to dig my face between your legs.” Theo’s determined voice in combination with that phrase has your eyes widen. There’s a moment of silent tension as you stare deep into his eyes. “Don’t disappoint.” You tell him as you move your hand to his shoulder to guide him down to his knees.

Enzo

Your eyes slowly move from Blaise to Enzo who smiles bright at his friend, but shakes his head no. “Can’t, mate, I really gotta finish this or I won’t play at all.” Your eyes get all shiny when the slytherin’s eyes fall back to the books in front of him. When Blaise is far enough not to hear anything going on you scoot a little closer to Enzo. “I must say, I’m impressed at how dedicated you are to our tutoring sessions.” Enzo looks up to see your sweet smile focussed on him and he has to keep himself from drooling as his mouth parts a little. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing at how lost he is, staring at you. Eventually a soft laugh does escape your lips. “You know, if you keep studying like this you might get a reward.” Now Enzo’s jaw drops a little more and you can’t resist putting a finger under his chin to close his mouth. 

You hadn’t said anything about what this reward would be, but he sure as hell wasn’t thinking about cookies, then again neither were you. “If you work hard like the good boy you are, I’ll treat you to something sweet.” Lorenzo was unsure if it was your honey voice or the way you softly bit your lip, but his pants suddenly felt a little tighter and his heart was racing at an unhealthy pace. 

***

For weeks Enzo Berkshire had been the perfect student. Always on time for his tutoring lessons, working from start to finish, engaged with his work and his grades showed it. Yet the praise from the teachers or even the girls in his class, it all left him cold because he was only after one thing and that was the sweet reward you had promised him. Striptease, lapdance, blowjob, sex… just a piece of lingerie would be fine. Next lesson, probably… However, you had kept him waiting. Since there was never an exact agreement on when he would receive his reward, Enzo was left to guess and hope every week that this would be it. You on the other hand benefited from waiting for two reasons: Lorenzo was incredibly motivated and Lorenzo was insanely cute when he tried hinting at his reward, not really daring to ask for it.

You were surprised by how long he had played along, but he really couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. He was exploding of desire for you and the thought of getting anything from you as reward drove him mad. So he had to ask. Though the question didn’t come as a surprise, the timing was. 

You were explaining the importance of distance when using certain conjurations, when Enzo suddenly spook up. “I work hard. I’m a good student. I deserve my reward. I deserve you.” Your eyes move from the page you were pointing at to see a blushing Enzo stare at you. You sit a little straighter and Enzo swallows, terrified that his impatience had caused him to screw up with the prettiest witch to ever walk the earth. “What do you mean with that last bit, ‘I deserve you’?” A nervous chuckle leaves Lorenzo’s lips and he even starts fidgeting with his fingers, making you raise an eyebrow. He went from demanding daddy to whipped mamma’s boy real fast. “What I meant to say was… uhm… I deserve whatever you give me. I just forgot a few words there.” You smile at his nonsensical answer and react with a serious tone. “Exactly.” 

With a flick of your wrist the door slams shut and Enzo’s eyes stick to the classroom door as he realises he’s now completely alone in a room with you. While his face heats up, his blood rushes down. “You were cute trying to be all demanding.” You say as you move from your seat, Enzo watching you carefully. “I didn’t mean to come off too strong. I was just really excited for this-.” The teasing smile tugging on your lips when he said the word ‘exciting’ has Enzo falling silent. With another flick of your wrist Enzo’s chair turns towards you and he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. “No doubt you’re excited.” You whisper, referring to the bulge in his pants. He feels like he’s about to lose consciousness when you slowly go down on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t move and he almost forgets to breathe as your perfect hands unbuckle his belt. 

Him moving up to help you lower his pants was instinct, because you had turned his mind to mush, his eyes drowning in yours. As soon as you start jerking his dick his moans fill the room, making you wonder what sounds he’ll make once you have him in your mouth.

Whimpers, is what filled the room when your tongue teased his tip, and cries when you finally move to take his member deep. You had him begging in a matter of seconds and you loved the control as much as you were starting to love Enzo. 

[v4mp-reads]

hiii! Can u write Jake Webber being absolutely pussy drunk and then reader giving him so much love it makes him emotional because he’s never been loved so much🫶🏻

Sorry about the wait on this one needed to clear something up

Don’t cry my love.

Jake Webber x Fem! Reader. Fluffy smut!

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: sex drunk jake! , vs face sitting! praise, use of pet names, p n v, unprotected sex ( use PROTECTION PPL) slight d/s themes, soft dom!jake

Word count:1.5k

—-

Y/ns pov

I was laying in mine and Jake's shared bed waiting on him to finish recording, it was probably twelve am and I could still hear him and Johnnie playing around, it didn't bother me much tho. I scrolled through my phone for a while before Jake fell on the bed beside of me “hi y/n i missed you so much while i was recording, i was thinking that we could cuddle and watch a movie for the rest of the night” he rambled on before i cut him off “come on baby lay down”

He climbed in the bed close to me as I laid my head on his chest. While he was trying to find a movie to turn on, I began to trace over his tattooed arms, this must have turned him on because he slowly shifted his bottom half away from me. I didn't pay much mind to it and I thought he was just trying to get comfortable. We laid there, and watched the movie. I shifted closer to him, throwing my leg over his crotch area, causing him to jump a bit. I could feel his arousal against my leg. I thought it would be fun to see how much I could do before he snapped.

About thirty minutes later, I had moved from using my leg to using my hand to palm him through his sleep shorts, he was letting out soft little moans, they only turned me on more. “Mhmm, my love don't tease” he spoke, I turned to look at him his eyes held a mix of lust and love. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything wrong” I said softly, “mhmmm, really now, nothing wrong?” He moved me from beside him so that now I was straddling him “now you know better then to play around with me princess” he ran his hand over the thin material of my sleep shorts. “Mhmm, it seemed like you liked it. '' I slowly started rocking my hips to get some form of friction. This was short lived. “No, I want you to completely understand and lay beside me” his voice was soft, yet stern. Causing the warm all too familiar feeling to flood my stomach. I quickly did what he told me, throwing my clothes off to some other part of the room, then returning to lay on the bed.

He slowly climbed over me, taking off his shirt and pants leaving him in just his gray boxers “mhmm. I missed you” I mumbled out softly feeling his hands run up my legs stopping just before he got where I wanted him “please…Jake..please” I begged, that’s all it seemed to take, his hands worked perfectly on my skin, and I softly used his index finger to run slow soft circles around my cilt, causing me to let out a soft moan as I grabbed on to his hair. “Jake..please..I need more” I moved slowly against his finger “mhmmm, I want you to ride my face baby” I moaned at his words before sitting up for him to lay on the bed “ you know what to do baby, I don’t want any of that hovering okay?” I nodded my head “words baby” I put both my knees beside his head “I understand '' I softly lowered myself onto him, instantly letting out a loud moan. He continued to eat me out, his tongue touching every part of my heat, by this point I had started rocking my hips to increase the praise from him. Grabbing a handful of his hair, my moans were loud, mixed with the grown every now and then from Jake. “I-I’m close..Jake please don’t stop” he brought one finger to my very wet hole, softly pushing it in and out “come on baby, cum for me” he went back to eating me out, within moments I felt the knot in my stomach unraveling, he didn’t stop, he continued “Jake- please! Ah” I went to speak but he just pushed another finger into me now curling them, I softly shifted down from his face, so that I could lay on his chest as he continued to finger me. “Jake..I’m close again..” I moaned against his neck, “are you? Is my pretty little girl about to cum for me? Go ahead pretty girl” and with his permission and praise my legs shook and I reached my orgasm again. “Mhmm thank you…thank you so much my love” I stuttered out

I gave myself a few moments. I looked up at him “mhmm baby, can I ride something else” I asked with a smile. He looked at me with a curious expression “what do you mean darling?” I giggled as i pulled him up to a sitting position “mhmm I just want to make you feel good” I trailed my hand from his neck making sure to run my fingers over his newly pierced nipples causing him to let a soft shaky breath, I place small kisses on his neck, trailing down his body before stopping and coming back to kiss him. As we kissed I worked on getting his final layer of clothing off, his dick quickly hitting his stomach “ooo” I cooed at him before once more running my fingers down his chest. “You're so handsome, I don’t know how I won in life to be with you” I told him softly getting closer to his dick. I ran my finger down each and every vein, teasing his tip every now and again watching as he threw his head back in pleasure “mhmm baby.. you like that?” I asked in a almost fake innocence “dont tease y/n” I giggle softly “oh so you would rather me do this? Hmm” I take his dick into my hand pumping it quickly “a-y/n..” he softly lifted his head to look at me “mhmm”

I lifted my self so that I could align him with myself, I lowered myself on this him. He pushed his hips to mine, causing a loud moan to fall from my mouth “Jake, that’s..that’s not fair” I could barely get my words out “let..let me make you feel good please” I asked while moaning. He was always focused on my pleasure, never his own. “Mhmm okay, okay my love” he muttered out as he relaxed against the bed. I quickly bottomed out on him, softly gridding. His hands quickly found my hips as I showed him with praise. “You look so hot, you feel so good” I told him as I quicked myself feeling my own orgasam come closer “mhmmm, Jake, baby im close” i started to lift my hips higher and come back down. I soon reached my orgasm, tho I continued to ride him trough it “mhmm, baby, you just came, you, you can stop” he let out soft moans and I just continued.

He soon got close to his own release I could tell by the way his dick twitched inside of me “close, y/n baby..I’m close” i only rocked my hips faster “im on my pill baby” is all i had to say, he let out another soft moan before finishing inside of me.

We laid there for a bit before I softly moved off him “I’ll get a towel to clean” he went to get up but I softly pushed him down “I’ll taking care tonight” his eyes softened as he nodded. I slowly got up to get things for us to clean up with. It wasn’t long before I climbed back into bed to my Boyfriend “Hi darling” I looked at him with a soft smile “hi my love” he instantly pulled me into a hug. “Baby I need to clean you up” he only shook his head “aww, baby are you a bit pussy drunk? Is that what it is” he only nodded into my neck. We laid there talking about all kinds of things once he finally let me clean him up.

“I love you Jake, I love you so much you have no idea how perfect you are, how funny, and smart, and caring you are” I told him softly “you really think that?” He turned to look at me, I looked at him with a face of almost shock “of course i do darling, look at you, you are so pretty, you care about everyone, you are so funny, so sweet, and you can do some pretty crazy things with those fingers” I giggled at the last part. I looked at him, his eyes full of tears “are you crying?!” I asked “maybe just a little bit” he said pulling me by my waist closer to him. I placed a small kiss on his lips “don’t cry my love”

This took so long to write and literally sucks

Thank you for reading

Xoxo,v4mp-

[lecsainz]

Hi! I love the way you write and you seem really sweet. No one really answers my requests so I’m not expecting you to😂. Why not try tho. Can I get a Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Half blood Reader. And the head cannons of our relationship and really go and do what you want with it. I love her sm and really want a good bit of head cannons of her.

I’m sorry if this sounds rude at all lol. I’m not trying to be.

HOLDING YOUR HAND

parings: clarisse la rue x fem!half-blood!reader

summary: that one where you date clarisse and what your relationship with her is like.

an: awww, thank you! you seem like an AMAZING person too, seriously! I loved your request, hope it turned out the way you wanted 😁 (note: I didn't specify which greek god the reader was because I didn't know if you wanted a specific one).

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )

You and Clarisse have known each other since you first arrived at camp.

It took about two weeks for you to gather the courage to approach the daughter of Ares, which was odd for you because you were a social butterfly.

Clarisse wouldn't admit it, but she found it amusing when you came up to her and started to stutter, and to this day, whenever she remembers, she teases you about it.

After your first conversation, where you asked her to teach you sword fighting since you only knew how to use a bow and arrow until then, Clarisse gladly accepted. Her condition was that she'd only teach you if you joined her team in Capture the Flag, considering you were one of the best - if not the best, in Clarisse's words - at the camp.

Thanks to the training sessions, you and Clarisse began to bond as friends.

You talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. Clarisse felt she could be herself around you, knowing you wouldn't judge her.

Even if Clarisse was in the midst of a fight or giving orders alongside her half-siblings, she would stop as soon as she saw you, to come over for a conversation or to give you a hug.

She doesn't remember when she started feeling something for you, but she got scared that you might not feel the same and ended up distancing herself.

"Hey, Clarisse," you began tentatively, trying to keep your tone light yet concerned. "Mind if I join you?" She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a guarded expression. Nodding silently, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sitting down, you couldn't ignore the tension radiating from her. "You've been a bit distant lately. Is everything alright?" Her gaze softened, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes – a blend of vulnerability and the stubbornness that defined her. "It's nothing, just camp stuff," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. You tilted your head, offering a small smile. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm here if you need someone to listen." Clarisse sighed, her guard starting to crack as she looked away, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her shirt. "I just... I thought maybe I was getting too close. Didn't want things to get... complicated." Her vulnerability caught you off guard, but you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Complicated how?" She hesitated, eyes darting back to yours, her expression a mix of confusion and a touch of fear. "I... I started feeling something... and I was afraid you didn't feel the same." Your heart skipped a beat as her words sank in. "Clarisse, I..." You searched for the right words, hoping to convey what you hadn't said before. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. You mean a lot to me." She met your gaze, her walls crumbling slightly, allowing a glimpse of vulnerability to shine through. "Really?" "Yeah," you nodded earnestly. "Really." A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I've missed hanging out with you." "I've missed it too," you admitted, relieved that you were finally talking about the unspoken tension between you. There was a brief pause, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air before you broke the silence. "So, are we good?" Clarisse grinned, a hint of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, we're good."

It was no surprise to anyone at the camp when you two appeared together.

During the Capture the Flag game, Clarisse always kept an eye out for you. While she was engaged in a battle with a Hermes kid, she ended up falling, and you intervened just in time, nearly hitting the boy with an arrow.

"Need a hand?" You asked with a smile at your girlfriend. "I could've handled it myself," she grumbled, starting to get up. "A 'thank you' would be nice," you offered your hand to her. She accepted the help to stand. "I'm holding your hand," she murmurs, taking yours, and you lift her, shaking your head, amused by her. Clarisse stops and looks at your hands together with a huge smile. Before you could say anything, a noise from the forest interrupted, and Clarisse planted a kiss on your cheek before darting off, leaving you standing there, trying to process what just happened.

Clarisse definitely loves giving bear hugs.

She would wake up earlier just to spend extra time with you without anyone interrupting.

When Clarisse's siblings from the Ares cabin tease her about being a lovesick fool, she doesn't even bother defending herself anymore because it's true, and she's not ashamed to admit it.

Your love language is physical touch, so she wouldn't mind receiving hugs and holding your hand all day long.

"Good morning!" You'd hug her from behind at the Ares table, planting a kiss on her cheek, realizing she was annoyed, then darting off to your own table. When you glanced back at the brunette, you'd see her with a huge goofy smile amidst the cheers and teasing from her siblings.

While Clarisse trains, you would go just to watch her. She'd try to impress you, but if she made a mistake, she'd be extremely embarrassed, yet she wouldn't admit it, claiming that the slip was part of her plan for that move that made her fall to the ground.

"And that's how you catch your opponent off guard," she'd explain as she gets up from the ground. "Yeah, right," you start laughing at her. "Hey, I'm serious." Clarisse brushes off the dirt from her clothes, trying to save face.

She'd dislike everyone else but seeing you would instantly brighten her day by 100% .

[livingemkayde]

between blurred lines

best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader

(pre-outbreak)

↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.

AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞

↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.

↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. love ya'll big time

↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist

“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.  “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.  “Let it go,” he repeats.

You grew up with Sarah Miller. 

Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend. 

It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel. 

You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is. 

Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—

No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid. 

Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town. 

“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”

You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is. 

“Hey, kid.”

You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting. 

“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses. 

“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same. 

You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.” 

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” 

“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work. 

“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”

“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.” 

You laugh. “Not your scene?” 

“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?” 

You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”

“Play along.” He smirks.

A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine. 

“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”

“You teachin’?” 

“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh. 

“Smart girl.” 

His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.” 

He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb. 

“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?” 

You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” 

You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips. 

“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”

Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”

You hitch a tough breath. 

“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer. 

“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.” 

“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers. 

“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.

__

You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller. 

She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears. 

And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house. 

Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club. 

Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat. 

“Get a shirt from my dads room.” 

So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.

When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress. 

The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness. 

“What’re you doin’?”

You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were. 

You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands. 

“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.

“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth. 

“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you. 

“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave. 

“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly. 

When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk. 

Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure. 

“Fun night?” 

You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”

You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years. 

Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink. 

He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach. 

You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way. 

“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.” 

Pretty. 

He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary. 

You didn’t think he would notice. 

You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears. 

He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel. 

So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath. 

“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades. 

His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate. 

You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you. 

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech. 

“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely. 

Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again. 

“I thought—” 

“You thought, what?”

Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you. 

“I don’t…” 

“You thought this was a good idea?” 

You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.

“What would your daddy think?” 

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything. 

He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.

“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”

His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat. 

“‘S one word for it.” 

He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace. 

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”

He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. 

“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. 

“Let it go,” he repeats. 

You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm. 

A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans. 

It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle. 

It feels like heaven. 

You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds. 

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”

It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough. 

Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile. 

“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right. 

Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—

“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply. 

Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.

“How do you want it, baby?” 

You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave. 

“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight. 

“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new. 

Pretty. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him. 

“You’re okay, angel.” 

Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him. 

“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.” 

“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips. 

You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little. 

“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”

You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect. 

It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less. 

“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten. 

“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. 

“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?” 

It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello. 

“I-I don’t—” 

“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”

It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist. 

“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside. 

“Joel,” you breathe. “I—” 

“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.” 

So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head. 

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets. 

You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper. 

Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice. 

“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.” 

He picks up the pace. 

“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.” 

You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.

“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."

When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment. 

He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect. 

Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you. 

“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly. 

He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back. 

“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same. 

You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing. 

He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body. 

The Texans. 

“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing. 

“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.” 

It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.  

“Same time next week?” 

Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?” 

“You can’t answer a question with another question.” 

You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again. 

“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door. 

__

[mrsbarnesblog]

wakanda

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, sex in Bucky's hut, he has one arm, woman on top, unprotected sex, dirty talk, insecurity.

Author's note: posting my old fic, while I'm working on that tattoo artist x bookshop owner one👀 If any of you have smut ideas (with some kinks maybe), feel free to write your requests

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. Unfortunately, Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky, so you weren’t allowed to see him.

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

At first, you had to visit Shuri and TChalla to talk through some moments, and that whole time you were bubbling with nerves and anticipation to finally see Bucky. 

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face in your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, not to mention that he looked fantastic. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two rushed to his hut with the food you had bought from a local cafe owned by a kind old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill. 

Bucky talked about his goats and the way he felt better living in Wakanda, while you unconsciously moved closer to him, needing to fill the void that formed while you couldn’t see him. Bucky just stopped in the middle of the sentence, as if he realized that you were too close, looking at him with your big, pretty eyes. 

Food was forgotten. Somehow, you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and hot kiss you had ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to keep you close.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth; your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss. Bucky couldn’t get enough of your taste; he bit your lip, then licked it with his tongue to calm down the delicate skin.

It felt so natural, like it was meant to happen a long time ago, and now you could not keep all of your emotions inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts. 

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m so sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink blush on his cheeks.

"I want it, Bucky; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?" He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to express your unsaid feelings. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.” 

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort. 

“Just leave it on, okay?” 

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?” 

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked stunning with his slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and lustful and needy eyes. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.” 

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time. 

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes. 

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.” 

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however and wherever you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Shit–  how are you so soft…” Bucky's hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and reaching for your sensitive nipples. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he did at that moment—to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?” 

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just—fuck!” 

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching behind you, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky placed his hand on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, and you were not able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers. 

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside. 

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face. 

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, as well as skin slapping against skin. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end. 

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, drawing you in for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body. 

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm. 

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? Will you let me feel you up?” 

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit. 

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me; ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body. 

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him. 

You weren't sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.” 

part 2