#POSSIBLE OTHER THINGS I AM TOO EMBARRASSED TO WRITE ABOUT

[lunarharp]

a random draft where i was ramblingg about witch hat & art to myself for myself :)

rare time i feel like actually going off about the thing i’m having fun with right now in more detail ... but not on twt where strangers might try to discuss back at me lol sorry but that is scary. (not that you even have the room to soliloquy on there)

i love how there's characters for varying types of artists to relate to. people like agott who have been adept at drawing from a young age but feel overwhelmed by feelings of not meeting their expectations. and are driven mostly by feelings of wanting to prove their worth..

people like oru who have always been around the art but now are burnt out from commissions and wondering just what they're drawing for... and ones i relate to the most personally like coco and qifrey, who started drawing at an older age to the skilled people around them. like coco i'm so happy that i'm in the world of drawing(/magic) now and excited every day but also weighed down by fears that i'll never get to what i where i need to be after starting at this late stage and also whether i'm really cut out for this....

and like qifrey i only started drawing after a narrow escape from trauma... i started drawing to make sense of what my life is now, just as he was invited by beldaruit to become a witch because it was the only safe path he could take. (although i've not been through anything quite like what he's been through... ouagh)

and there’s tetia who just wants to draw to make other people feel happy about what she’s made, to have fun, and spread hope and happiness and gratitude. who feels so happy whenever someone thanks her for what she’s created - i understand now how it feels to want to thank them for thanking her and how making art, when you get a meaningful response, can be a truly warm communal type experience. but you do need that response - her overwhelming happiness when the dragon thing was happy and she said it was the first time she’d ever felt fully appreciated for her magic and it made her soooo happy. she had been drawing until then, but it was the last puzzle in place to make her realise the breadth of what magic can be for her.

and riche who is determined to not lose the “her”-ness from her art, doesn’t want to learn new techniques and become more regular and orthodox in style if it means she feels she’s losing something... i get that!!! precious autistic-coded child... the ways we feel about our art differ depending on our own mental landscapes. hahhhh... shirahama said she began this series because she was having a conversation with artist friends about how it feels like drawing just really is magic. i mean..... it is.

i think writing feels like magic too, and i’m glad i can do both now. any creation is total magic. i’ve drawn scenes that were in my head and that’s let other people see them and if i can trust their comments about it, has moved them in some way or at least let them imagine a scene or a situation that they wouldn’t have imagined otherwise. but it’s different from just telling someone about it. when you draw something, or write something it really exists now - outside of you. THAT’S SO WEIRD.

i liked drawing a lot of takarazuka things (before i realised i got kind of burnt out drawing all this transcore stuff that people were not exactly responding to because it’s so niche and weird lmao) but drawing fanart for something that also ONLY exists in art is so special. it’s not acted by real people. like.. they’re just little people that someone drew and now i draw them too. total magic. and she gets up and draws them every day the same as me...

i love that a manga isn’t just art, it’s storytelling too. doing both writing and drawing at the same time - it feels like such a perfect and fascinating combination of skills and facets of creation. i’m better at writing than drawing, so i don’t feel like i can express my original stories well enough in comic form just yet. but i might just get there.

the world is so confusing and overwhelming and terrible every day. only creation is something i can understand. sometimes i can’t understand it - when i feel REALLY bad, it’s definitely like, what’s the point. and i wish i had more things to experience at present than just creation - i want to be outside and just feel and be as well as create. and at some point i’ll definitely stop posting my creations online. but creating has become something that i don’t need to understand the reason for it - so at those times when i wonder what the real point to any of this is.... lately, i usually still create anyway. just as you’d still breathe and sleep even though you’re hurt and confused by the horrors of the world. it’s becoming how i express myself. i find myself drawing pretty much every day because it’s part of how i make sense of shit now and i naturally want to do it. not doing it is painful.

i hope this magic continues. i hope it becomes far more wonderful than i can even imagine from here.

and i won't lose.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭

Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid

Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺

First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.

Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]

The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.

You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.

To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.

"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"

Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.

"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.

The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.

Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.

"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.

So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.

"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"

Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.

"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.

The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.

Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.

It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.

So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.

Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.

The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.

Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.

The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.

"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."

"I don't care about money."

Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?

"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.

"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.

But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.

Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.

"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."

The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.

You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.

Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

hi, idk if request are open but if they are can you please write a percy x reader fanfic where they hate each other but one thing leads to another and it gets kinda steamy

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Enemies To Fuckers

content: percy jackson x reader fic warning: language, mentions of sexual stuff but nothing extremely explicit, arguments but making up (ish) author's note: okay hot ass take rn - like center of the earth hot or leo valdez hot - i can't stand enemies to lovers. IM SORRY I KNOW ITS A BIG THING BUT THE CHILD OF DIVORCE THAT I AM CANNOT STAND IT!! like, no, i refuse to let my love be hard and painful like my parents, even if it does come from a good place. i just can't picture hate turning into love, even if it wasn't ever hate in the first place. that's what it was displayed as and the thought makes me want to throw up- ANYWAYS IGNORE THAT TRAUAMA DUMP FRFR ENJOY THIS OKAY BYE BYE

"you're insufferable!"

"feelings mutual, jackson!"

"rot in tartarus!"

"if it means getting away from you, gladly!"

"okay, okay, break it up," jason huffed, shoving his way between the two and pushing them apart. he glared at each of them before pointing off to separate sides of the argo ii.

"i don't want to see you two near each other for the next hour."

"she started it," percy whined, pointing accusatorily at her.

"did not!" the girl insisted, glaring at the son of poseidon.

"did too!"

"did no-"

"STOP! gods, you're giving me a headache. you two need to start getting along...go!" he shooed, shoving percy one way and you the other. the two of you held each other's glare for as long as possible before getting cut off by the walls that stood between the two of you. y/n rolled her eyes as she lost percy, making her way towards the kitchen. she breathed out a small breath as she started grabbing all the things she needed to make a cup of tea. y/n wasn't a naturally angry person but something about the blasted percy jackson just had her seething. everything from his dumb soft-looking hair, to his stupid stunning green-blue eyes, to his foolishly handsome face- wait, what?

she quickly shook her head, physically trying to get rid of the thoughts. she placed the kettle on the burner, sitting for the water to boil, leaning back against the counter next to the stove. then she heard footsteps and percy walked into the kitchen before huffing out a breath.

"i was here first. get lost, sea boy," you bit out, rolling your eyes as she continued to move into the kitchen.

"don't worry. i'm not here to see you. just grabbing some snacks and then you can be bitchy in here by yourself," percy mocked, throwing a fake salute your way, before reaching for whatever snacks he wanted.

"gods, do you ever shut the fuck up?" you asked, with a mock pitchy voice. percy pulled a face, mocking you under his breath with a roll of his eyes. you sighed heavily, reaching towards the kettle and going to pour it into your mug, at the same time looking away to glare at percy.

"do you realize that you're, like, a massive cun-"

"wait, its-"

"shit! ow, fuck!" you hissed, instantly pulling your hand back from the boiling water that you managed to pour all over your hand. tears instantly pooled in your eyes and had anyone else been in the kitchen with you, you'd be a puddle on the floor. but this was percy. who, strangely enough, was quickly taking care of the boiling water and kettle before gently grasping your hand in his to inspect. you tried to blame the blush filling your cheeks on embarrassment or rage, but you knew what it was.

"next time you wanna call me names, don't do it while pouring boiling water," hissed percy, reaching under the sink and producing a first aid kit. he easily wrapped your hand and you couldn't seem to take your eyes off his focused but worried face. worried...about you. the boy, who you were certain would serve you on a silver platter to any monster who offered him a penny and pre-chewed gum, was worried about you.

"thank you," you whispered as he finished, pulling your hand back. percy rolled his eyes but it was softer than usual, leaning back against the counter and hanging his head.

"yeah, uh, no problem. can't pick on you if youre hurt. think it counts as ableism or something," he replied, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. you nodded slowly, biting on your lip as your gaze drifted off.

"you shouldn't do that."

"hm?"

"your lip," he clarified, nodding with his head, "it- it's bad for you."

"oh yeah?" you taunted, squinting at him as you could sense the lie.

"yup."

"and, totally, not because it gets you all hot and bothered?" you added, tilting your head innocently. percy froze, clearing his throat before glaring over at you.

"no, of course not-"

"your dick is fighting you here," you winked, darting your eyes down before looking back into his eyes. percy burst into a deep shade of red, adjusting his body to hide behind an open cabinet door as you laughed.

"you didn't pay attention in biology then, because it also happens when you are just filled with so much rage-"

"sure, buddy," you teased, taking a few steps forwards before taking his chin into your hand, gently turning it before pressing a kiss just to the corner of his lips. a shuttering breath left his lips, fanning across your cheek.

"you're cute when you're not calling me a bitch," you mused, softly glancing up at him. percy breathed out a laugh, his eyes locked on yours.

"took you long enough to catch on," he taunted, unable to look away from the girl who's affection he's been trying to win for weeks.

"hmm, wanna make up for lost time?" she offered, tugging a small part of her lip into her mouth with her teeth. percy groaned, shooting his hand forwards and roughly pulling her face to smash into his, lips clashing and fighting for dominance. you two were tugging at each other, all the pent up anger melting away into a pure drive to keep each other's hands on the other.

as percy's hand slide under your shirt and as your hips brushed against his, the door to the kitchen swung open, to reveal a fuming jason grace.

"when i said you needed to start getting along, this is not what i meant. people eat here, you know."

[notafunkiller]

love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie​

Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.

Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n 

Word Count: 11K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.

You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.

So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.

And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.

"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.

“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”

He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."

You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”

He snorts. "Not thanks to me."

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.

“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”

You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"

“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.

"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.

You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.

You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.

"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."

“What?” You feel so lost.

"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."

You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.

"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."

“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.

"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."

“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?

"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.

“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.

"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."

“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”

"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."

“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”

Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."

“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”

"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."

“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.

"Did I seem intimidating?"

“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.

He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"

“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.

"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."

“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”

"Want to order food before?"

“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”

"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."

“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”

"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.

“I am running my own bakery.”

"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"

“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”

"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"

“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”

"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"

"What kind?"

You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”

"Paying a salary must be hard."

“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.

"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.

“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”

The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."

The man nods and starts pouring slowly.

When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.

“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”

"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”

“Ihm… No.”

"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.

While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.

"Do you have preferences?"

You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.

"Do you trust me with this?" 

“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”

"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."

*

It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.

"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."

You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.

Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few  hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.

Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.

He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.

"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases. 

“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.

"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."

“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.

"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."

You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?

"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."

“Really?”

"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."

Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”

"Michael..."

That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.

“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”

"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.

You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend. 

“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.

Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.

"It was nice to see you."

You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.

"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."

“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”

"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.

“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.

"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.

“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”

"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.

“Only if it won’t be a bother…”

"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."

“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”

"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."

“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”

"Of course."

“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”

"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."

“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”

He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."

You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.

He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"

“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

"What did you do?”

“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”

Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."

His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”

"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."

“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”

Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."

“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.

"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.

“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.

Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."

“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.

He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."

Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse. 

“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.

"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.

“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”

"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."

You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

"I'm really so-"

"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.

“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.

"Perfect."

“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”

"Noah."

“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”

"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."

“What?”

"Are you free on 18?"

“I… think so. Why?”

"I have a proposal for you."

*

As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him. 

< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?

> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.

> Why?

< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.

> I am sure that's impossible but of course.

You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.

>You look very beautiful.

>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?

< Thank you. 

< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.

> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.

< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.

> You don't bother me.

> I mean it.

< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.

> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.

> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?

< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.

< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.

> I hope it was a full day.

> I mean with many clients.

> And I hope they will give you a call.

< It was a tiring day. How was yours?

> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.

> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.

< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.

5 minutes later

< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.

> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.

< You too.

The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you. 

*

> Hi

> How are you?

< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?

> I am good too.

> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...

< You wanna pick me up?

> Yes. I might need your address again, though.

< Noah doesn’t remember?

< I am picking you up.

Oh.

> You should say no if you don't want that.

< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.

> Do you want me to come with Noah?

> I can.

< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky. 

< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.

> Perfect 🙂

> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.

> So boring

< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.

< Both are fine by me.

> See you at 8 then 😁

> Since you hate the other emoji

< Oh this one is much better.

< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.

You quickly send him your address.

> Thank you

*

The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.

*

> Friends or The Office?

> Also hi

< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.

< Hiii back.

> How are you?

> Let me guess who you like the most

> Is he tall?

< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.

< I’m good, how are you?

> I knew you have taste.

> I am good. Now even better.

< Why better?

< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.

> Because I talk to you.

> So true.

He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.

< I like talking to you, too.

< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?

> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.

> It would never end.

> You?

< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.

< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.

> I am 34, not 304!

> I feel offended

< It’s so easy to tease you.

> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.

< You mean Roy?

> Yeah

> That punching scene though

< God, that guy is a walking red flag. 

< Pam was truly blind.

> She was. Sad...

< Favorite season?

> Hard.

> Very hard.

> Maybe 4.

> Yours?

< Either 4 or 6.

> Tastee

< You are starting to sound like me 

> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around

< Sure old man. Whatever you say 

> Old but handsome, to quote you

< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.

> Excusess

< Shh you are exposing me too much

As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too. 

> Hi. Are you home?

< Yeah?

> in a few minutes you might have a delivery

< A delivery? 

< Bucky what did you buy this time?

> I can sense a tone

< Can you?

> A bratty tone.

> You'll see when it comes.

Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.

< Jesus Bucky!

< These are so pretty!

< Thank youu.

> No complaining, huh?

> Glad you like them.

> I can complain if that’s what you want.

> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.

< They are already in a vase, sir.

You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.

> Great.

< I can’t stop smelling them.

> Noted

< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.

> Waiting

You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.

< Which one should I wear for the next event?

> You think I am the right person to choose?

< I am your date, aren’t I?

> They both look great.

> Depends on what you want.

< That’s what I think too!

< And that’s why I can’t decide.

< Please help me out.

> Pink?

< Pink it is.

< Thank you.

*

What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.

*

You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.

When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper. 

"What happened?"

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.

Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."

His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?

"Of course. Have a good evening!"

“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.

"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."

“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”

You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.

The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.

"I should have made them change the plate…  Do you have an allergic reaction?"

“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”

"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.

“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”

"Do what? Pay you?"

Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes. 

“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?” 

"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.

“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”

"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"

“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”

He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!" 

“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”

"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest 

“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”

"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."

“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.

He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.

As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.

"Please... do you really think that low of me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"

"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."

You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"

*

Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.

"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.

“I should be asking you that question.”

"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."

“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”

"To help."

“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”

"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable." 

“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”

"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."

“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.

"What? Like what?"

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”

"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?

“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.

"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"

“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”

"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."

“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”

"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.

“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.” 

"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."

“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”

"You mentioned it."

“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”

He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."

“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.

"Yes."

“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”

Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."

“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”

"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."

“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”

"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.

“Not without the other one asking for help.”

"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.

“Which point will that be?”

"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."

“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”

"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.

“Please what?”

"Can we just stop fighting?"

“We can if you stop paying me.”

"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me." 

“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”

"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"

“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”

"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.

“I want to end the payments.”

"So no more events..."

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”

"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?" 

“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”

"You are calling me dumb."

“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.

"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"

“Don’t you really see the implication?”

"What implication? Tell me what you think."

“Would you pay me if we had sex?”

He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"

“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”

"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.

“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”

"Do you mean it?"

“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”

He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."

“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”

"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."

You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”

"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"

“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”

"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."

“And I think I got my answer.”

"No, I would not pay you for sex."

“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”

He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable." 

He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.

“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”

"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."

“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”

"Done." His answer is instant.

“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”

"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor. 

“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.

"May I kiss you?"

“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”

He snorts. "Just answer." 

“You may.”

He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.

He smiles. "Hi."

“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.

"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.

“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”

"You want dinner?"

“Well, not right now.” 

"What do you want right now?" 

“Just keep doing what you were doing.”

He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, fuck."

“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.

"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands

You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.

"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.

“Please what?”

"Faster."

“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.

"Left you a few pretty marks." 

“Maybe I should give you some too.”

"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."

“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!” 

"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”

"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"

He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back. 

“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”

"What? You want to go home?"

“I have to go home eventually, you know.”

"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.

“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”

He kisses her. "What?"

You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”

"May I rip these too?"

“No. No more ripping, please.”

"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.

“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.

"You talk so much about leaving."

“Hmm, do I?”

"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Does it bother you?”

"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."

You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”

He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow." 

You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."

“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”

"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.

“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”

"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."

"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."

"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."

"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.

"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"

But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.

He tries not to smile, but it's hard.

“Uhm… what?”

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."

“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.

"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."

You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions

"Doll..."

“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.

"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."

“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”

"Because we can do something else fun for you too."

“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.

“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.

“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.

"We should... stop."

You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.

"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.

He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.

“Then come.” 

Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.

"Doll."

You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”

"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."

“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.

"Gonna take you to the bedroom."

“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.

"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.

"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"

“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”

"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"

“Would you?”

"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"

“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”

"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.

“It’s all yours.”

He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"

“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.

"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.

The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.

“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.

"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.

“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion. 

“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.

“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.

After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.

“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.

"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.

“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.

"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.

“Come here.” You open your arms.

He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.

"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."

You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”

"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean." 

And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.

“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.

"Hurting?"

“A little.”

"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.

"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."

"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.

You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."

"You like pulling my hair."

"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date." 

"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."

“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”

"True. I would moan."

"You and me both." You giggle again.

"So you felt okay?"

"Okay?"

He smiles. "More than okay?"

"You have no idea how okay that was."

"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."

"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."

He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."

"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.

"Condom?"

"Yep. Any preference?" 

"Yeah, none if possible."

Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it." 

"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."

"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."

"Want me to bring my blood tests?"

You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."

"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"

"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."

He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."

You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."

He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips. 

"Oh god."

"Please move."

He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.

"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.

"I’m so unbelievably wet." 

"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.

“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”

"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.

“Once.”

"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.

“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”

"How?" He starts sucking harder.

“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”

"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"

“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”

"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"

“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak. 

"Did you scream?"

“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”

"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”

"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."

“And it wasn’t enough.”

"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.

“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”

"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"

“Nuh-huh.”

"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."

“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.

"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."

“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”

"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.

“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”

"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."

“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.

"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."

“How did it feel?”

"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."

“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal. 

"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."

“Made a big mess because of me?”

"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me." 

“I’m here now.”

"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.

“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”

"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"

“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”

"I'm all yours."

“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”

"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."

“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”

"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.

“I have been imagining how this would feel.”

"Thought you did it only once." 

“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.

"How many times did you imagine it?'

“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”

"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.

“You fucking me hard.”

"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.

“As hard as you can.”

As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way. 

"God, this is... fuck me."

“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.

"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."

“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.

"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."

“I think- that’s- possible.”

"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?" 

“Yeah! Please!”

"Please what?" 

“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.

"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you  realize what you said.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.

"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”

"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"

“Is it bad if I do?”

"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"

“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.

He pulls your hair. "Daddy."

“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”

"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?" 

“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”

One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.

He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.

“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.

"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."

You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”

"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue. 

You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.

"Thank you."

“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say. 

"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.

“You just found out?”

"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.

“Oh god, I am so lucky.”

"Did you always have a daddy kink?"

“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”

Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip. 

“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.” 

"How could I not?"

“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.

"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."

“How did I look at you?”

"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”

“Well, you can.”

He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."

“For what?”

"For everything. And for wanting me."

You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?” 

"Boring older man."

“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”

He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."

“Well, it’s because you are.”

"You are mine too."

“Lucky us.”

"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.

“I might be okay with that.”

*

It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural. 

“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.

"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.

“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”

"Oh my god. That’s amazing."

“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”

Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."

You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”

"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."

“You will say you can help me out.”

"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.

He reaches to hold your hand. 

"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."

“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”

"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.

"Is that a yes?"

“That’s an I am considering it.”

In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."

“I didn’t say yes yet!”

"Ihm."

“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”

"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."

“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”

Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."

“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.

"I just like doing this for you."

“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.

He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"

“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”

"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.

“But I wanna know.”

"Please, just..."

“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”

He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."

You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”

"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"

“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.

"For my help?" He finally looks at you.

“Yeah.”

"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"

“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”

[lucyandalexiafan]

Car ride home | Alexia Putellas x reader

Summary: you have a big crush on Alexia, everyone makes jokes about this but Ale doesn't seem to understand, and you have to come back (to your) home with her after a three-day camp. What could possibly happen? Warnings: little "sexual" contact (hand on inner things), allusion to sex, little age gap not defined (something like five or six years).

Words: 2018.

Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!

“Are you coming home with me, little one?”

 I blush and try to protest.

 “Don't try, you won't take two trains to come back to Barcelona after a three-day camp”

The authoritative tone, an eyebrow raised as if she is daring me to protest.

I nod looking at her.

The others giggle.

Mapi messes up my hair.

She smiles mischievously.

She hugs me.

"See you Monday"

Behind her Ingrid waves her hand to greet me, a sweet smile on her face.

Ale snorts and there is more laughter, I look at the ground embarrassed.

“None of them will ever do something anyway” Marta adds.

I look at her, eyes slightly wider open.

Why do they keep insisting on joking about this?

Ona grabs my shoulder, laughing under her breath.

“Won’t you?”

“And that's it - Ale replies irritated – Bebita, do you have everything?”

I nod, slightly intimidated by the tone.

Is she mad at me?

I grab my bag and wave to the others, then follow her towards her SUV.

The trunk is already open.

She put her suitcase on the right, I put mine on the left and, on top of it, my backpack; I just take from it my phone before sitting next to her.

“I'm not mad at you, little one”

I blush at the nickname, looking at my hands.

“I'm sorry they always make jokes” I whisper guiltily, as if it were my fault.

It was so complicate bonding with her. She was the most reluctant to talk to me or communicate with me, the one that was cold from the beginning and very strict on the field; but she was like that only with me.

I had a crush on her even before we played together, but I never said it to her.

The fear of making mistakes is a constant in my friendship with her.

The fear of saying one word too much, making a rude joke or being intrusive.

The fear of ruining the friendship.

“Don't worry - she turns on the car - Put on some music, would you?”  She asks, handing me her cell phone.

I grab it, thinking about how the others had reacted when they saw me unlock it to change the song in the locker room when she asked me to.

How much they gossiped because no one knew her phone password. Not even Mapi knew it.

I put on a quiet 80s song that I know she likes.

Her free hand, due to the automatic control machine, is on her thigh.

After a while she points me to a town that can be seen from the road, she tells me that she had played one of her first women's soccer matches there.

Then, casually, she places her hand on my knee.

I hold my breath trying to act normal even though my heart is racing.

The thumb caresses my skin left bare by the short shorts.

“Did you enjoy the camp?”

“Mh?”  I ask, her eyes focused on his hand.

“If it bothers you, I'll take it off,” she whispers, giggling, her gaze fixed on the road.

“I… no, it doesn't bother me - the face getting hot - sorry”.

She chuckles turning left.

The hand goes up a little.

I move my leg towards her seat, spreading them apart.

She smiles slyly.

If possible, I am even more embarrassed by the gesture.

But I've been dreaming about this contact for months. A less innocent, less friendly, physical contact, something more than a hug.

I'm doing it wrong?

The next song starts and is her favorite.

“This is beautiful, I love it”

I smile nodding.

Her thumb pet my skin just under my shorts.

This is the first time we have had this contact.

What does it mean?

“So the camp?

Did you like it?"

I nod vigorously.

I turn towards her with my torso and her hand goes higher, about halfway up my thigh, under my shorts.

Fingers touching the inside of the thigh.

I gasp in surprise.

I try to recover quickly. “The… yes, it was n-nice” I reply, swallowing my saliva.

A nail scrapes across my skin and I feel a knot in my belly.

I gasp.

She starts talking about camp.

Of what I liked.

Of what could have been done better.

Of the coach.

I am too focused on her hand, on the humidity between my legs and concentrating on breathing to listen to her.

How long have you wanted this contact?

It means something doesn't it?

I mean, why else would it mean touching my inner thigh?

We had gotten closer in the last two months, it's true. We live six hundred meters from each other and, since I don't have a car, she accompanied me to the training and home quite every day.

But I didn't think she could look at me like that. She never showed any signs of it and she always said that I was too young, even though in the team there were relationships with multiple years of age difference. The others laughed about it and kept making more or less veiled jokes about the fact that we spent so much time together.

After a while of always seeing me arriving and going home with Ale, watching the way that we interact, the girls with whom I had bonded most in the few months since the beginning of my first year at Barcelona had asked me if I liked her.

I was at Lucy and Ona's house for a movie night, but I realized it was a trap the moment I entered the apartment and saw only the two that were living there, Aitana, Caro and Marta. I mean, it was a weird combination of people for a movie night knowing that Aitana is a person who talks a lot during movies, while Marta and Caro want absolute silence, and most of the team love the movie night, so why did there were few of them during a Thursday night?

I blushed as I looked at the ground when Aitana asked it; what I was supposed to say? Lying when it was so obvious to them was not the best decision, so I didn’t say something. After a few seconds Lucy hugged me giggling and Ona, while she was cooking, told me that "obviously she's feeling the same".

“We'll be home in ten minutes” she whispers.

I nod, snapping out of my thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?"

I observe her.

She smiles looking at the road.

Why is she so beautiful?

“I… nothing important”.

“Everything you think is important, little one”

I bite my lip.

She had started calling me that after dinner at her house, one of those we shared at the end of training when we came home late and didn't feel like eating alone, when I told her that I liked it as a nickname.

She had started using it in front of everyone after a couple of weeks and it was so nice to know that she had a nickname just for me; sometimes, when Ale is using it in front of Mapi, Mapi begins calling me the same, making jokes about us.

“Maybe you think of a boy or girl?”

I raise my eyebrow and she looks at me.

“Maybe you are thinking to someone, you're young and there's nothing wrong”

“Are you thinking of anyone?” I asked quickly without answering her.

I freeze at the idea that she does it and the person is not me.

Her hand rises higher when she stops abruptly the car in front of a traffic light; her middle finger which, if it were fully extended, would touch my soaked panties.

I moan at the idea.

I close my eyes.

“Actually, there is a person”

I widen my eyes.

I watch her.

“At first I tried to pretend that I didn't like her because she's younger than me and I've never had something with younger people-“

“You talk as if you were fifty,” I reply.

“Well, I'm twenty-nine.”

“How many does he have?”

“She - she replies - She, it's a she”

I bite my lip.

Even worse.

Overtaken by a woman.

A cursed and lucky woman.

“When… when did you understand?”

I hesitate when her fingers start to move exploring my inner thigh, my groin.

Why is she doing this to me if she has someone else on her mind?

“You know, for a series of reasons we found ourselves very close for a couple of days and at the end I had to accept that I like her - she smiles - And from there I look for every opportunity to talk to her or be together”

“She is a lucky girl,” I whisper.

She asks me to repeat when the car stops at a red traffic light.

Is possible that all the traffic lights are red?

The universe hates me.

Her eyes in mine.

I get lost watching her.

She is so beautiful… so perfect.

Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks…

“Mh?”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times when I feel her fingers brush the elastic of my underwear.

Should I move away?

I want it so bad, but I don't want her to do something with me just because maybe she can't be with that girl.

“She's lucky, the girl – whisper – Does she know?”

She giggles.

“You know, I don't think she has any idea of ​​the effect she has on me”

I close my eyes.

“She is so innocent and she gets embarrassed so often that her cheeks are always red… they are so adorable”

The gaze returns to the road.

She turns the wheel with one hand, turning left again.

She's so hot while she's driving.

Her fingers move, touching my skin.

But…

“She's a bit shy, but with the rest of the team she's much more relaxed than with me… I think I make her a bit uncomfortable”

Team?

I turn to her, her eyes wide, when I realize she's talking about me.

Cheeks on fire.

Is this happening?

“I can smell your arousal up here little girl – she tells me, looking at me while she parks the car under her house – You are so sensitive”

I gasp for air when she runs her tongue over her lower lip

I hold my breath when the tip of her finger goes under my underwear.

“Can I kiss you little one?”

I widen my eyes at the request.

I nod quickly.

She kisses me.

It's a slow kiss at first.

The lips playing with each other, the tongues coming into contact.

Her lips are soft.

The other hand, the one that is not between my legs, caresses my cheek.

Such a sweet gesture and in contrast to what she did throughout the trip.

I gasp as she moves the hand down my neck.

She smiles on my lips.

She breaks the kiss slightly.

I look at her scared, eyes open.

What if she just wanted to kiss me?

If it's not-

“Tell me you want me to stop and I'll stop — I shake my head at her, her hand still on my neck — Or tell me you want it and we'll go to my apartment.”

I nod.

I bite my lip.

I try to kiss her, but she moves her head away, the hand on my neck squeezing lightly.

I moan.

“The words little girl”

I moan loudly.

I squeeze my thighs together, her hand closed in the grip of my thighs.

“Can we go to your apartment?  Please?"

She smiles before kissing me hard.

She turns off the car and takes the keys out of the car.

I get out of the car at the same time as her and she locks it.

I start to walk to the building but she grabs my hand.

Her lips are immediately on mine, her hand caressing my cheek.

I moan when the other grabs my hip covered only by my t-shirt.

She smiles.

“So sensitive”

I bite my lip blushing while she grins openly.

Hi! This is my first fanfic and the first time that I try to write something in English that is not for school, so please be kind ahah; if you find some mistakes or if you have some advice write to me pls:)

[lilliumrorum]

What does he have that I don't? (Part Two)

<<Previous | Masterlist | Next>>

Synopsis: After getting comfortable in your captain's dwelling, you experience a dream involving him, intensifying your desire for the man.

WC: 3k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Soft Price, fluff, Cheating, kind of pining?, Wet dreams, Masturbation.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've had lots of fucking issues with tumblr and I am proper pissed off. Exams have been kicking my ass too, but I'll make sure to write an extra long chapter next time!

In this situation, unlike others, you wouldn't yearn for Simon's touch. The absence of affection from him for months has built a resistance to missing that once addictive sensation. Tears welled up once more as you reflected on the abuse endured just to cling to the shattered fragments of your 'relationship'. Desiring a different reality, you found yourself in a challenging situation, torn between lingering feelings for your lost love and developing admiration for your captain.

Concluding the scorching shower, the realization struck that a towel was forgotten. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you pondered how such a simple thing could be overlooked. An uneasy hope lingered that the captain remained undisturbed in his slumber, as a preemptive guilt surfaced. The idea of waking him up intensified that internal conflict, leaving you in a contemplative state after the steam had dissipated. Standing there, damp and hesitant, you grappled with the consequences of a neglected towel and the possibility of disrupting your captain's peace.

Your hand unlocked the door, cracking it open just a bit.

"John?"

"Mm?" His deep voice echoed from the couch.

You felt a sense of relief upon realizing he wasn't in bed yet.

"I… may have forgotten to grab a towel," you admitted with a nervous tone.

You heard his soft footsteps moving down the hall and passing by the bathroom. As soon they approached the room you made sure to narrow the crack of the open door, ensuring you wouldn't accidentally flash him. A sturdy silhouette stood behind it, holding a towel. Cautiously peeking around, you gently retrieve it from his grasp.

He stared at you for a moment, gazing at your damp hair and shoulders before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Don't make my floor too wet, Sergeant." He said with a breath before trekking back to the couch.

You slowly closed the door, releasing a heavy breath you didn't realize you were holding. It felt as if butterflies had been swirling around in your stomach, cheeks burning like fire as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The butterflies were nothing novel; in fact, they were a constant presence. Every time you worked near him your heart fluttered.

The salt-and-pepper mustache that quirked up when he smiled made your heart do flips. His hands, aged yet firm, with thick fingers calloused from years of service made you fantasize about what they would feel like inside you. The quick waves you received when he walked past you, his combat pants fitting him just right made for an easy distraction. Doing paperwork with him late at night presented itself a challenge. Your brain was constantly fuzzy whenever you looked at him.

At this point, you couldn't distinguish whether it was him making you shudder or your own nakedness. The stark contrast in temperature from your shower to the chilling air heightened your eagerness to get dressed. The towel rubbing against your skin brought a soothing sensation to your mind, interrupting your thoughts about him.

"You did so good f'me, lovie. Such a good fucking girl." He praised, slowly pulling out of your fluttering cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of being empty after being stuffed full for so long.

"I love you, Simon." you whispered breathlessly.

He gazed at you, searching your eyes for some sort of hidden plan, or trickery. He found nothing but adoration.

"I love you too." He whispered as he got up, searching for the towel he had placed somewhere, you reached out and gently wrapped your hand around as much of his toned arm as you could before he moved too far.

He glanced at you, his expression filled with curiosity.

"Si, can you promise me something?"

"What is it doll?"

"Don't leave me."

"What kinda promise is that? I'm never gonna leave you. Hell, I'm stuck on you."

You smiled at his words.

But he broke that promise. He left you, a ghost in his place.

"Captain, is it alright if I get dressed in the bedroom?" You uttered your words with a delicate tone as you stepped out into the hall.

His head shifted in the direction of your voice, his attention lingering on your legs briefly before his gaze ascended to meet your face. He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. Your posture started to shift as nervousness crept in, especially with his eyes on your barely covered body. He seemed to take notice, offering a smile before he spoke.

"Of course dove, that's where you're sleeping anyway." He spoke with a tone that held weariness.

"Oh no you don't ha-" as soon as you spoke you were interrupted.

"I said that's where you're sleepin' and that's that. Don't argue with me, sergeant." He commanded.

You raised your hands in the air, signaling surrender, before letting out a laugh and walking back to his bedroom.

The scent of everything was reminiscent of him, when you opened his closet, the aroma of cinnamon and pine struck you instantly. You breathed in his scent and felt a bit more at ease. Why did everything about him have to evoke such a strong sense of comfort and familiarity?

If you didn't move past this childlike crush soon, you'd end up with more issues than you're already grappling with. He could be your father for Christ's sake!

You shook your head, as if the thought would dissipate, while grabbing some pajama shorts and a tank top. The clothes were rather revealing, but John would surely understand if he saw them. Your intention was to return home to Simon, not to him. When you left, there was no time to retrieve your clothes, as you aimed to escape the situation as smoothly as possible.

Your body ached for sleep, going without it for what seemed like ages.

Turning the light off and slipping into bed, a subtle shift occurred in your thoughts, and the image of John began to weave its way into your consciousness like a gentle melody. In the calm moments preceding sleep, his laughter echoed, and the warmth of his gaze painted the canvas of your contemplations. The memory of John intertwined seamlessly with the comforting embrace of his sheets, creating a space where the lines between reality and the fanciful dance of imagination became hazy. With each closing of your eyes, dreams unfolded, casting John as the silent protagonist in the tales that quietly unfolded in the realm of your weary mind.

In the silent corners of your thoughts, dreams took shape, painting a picture where you were romantically involved with John. Scenes of stolen glances and hidden meetings unfolded, with the forbidden nature of it all adding an exhilarating edge to the fantasy. In these vivid dreams, shared moments created a connection that surpassed the ordinary reality surrounding you. However, these fantasies were kept as a personal refuge—a brief escape within the private chambers of your mind, where the blurred lines of possibility flirted with the edges of longing.

"Tell me what you want, dove. What do you need from me?" he breathed in a solaced whisper.

His rugged hands worked at your body, roaming across your naked form as you tried your hardest to utter a word, mumbling nonsense. He hadn't taken your panties off yet, the cloth becoming more and more wet by the second.

"Words, sweetheart. I need to know what you want from me." His fingers teasing your clit in soft, circular motions.

"John- Oh shit! I need them inside! Please!" You practically sobbed.

Everything in this moment completed you. His waist was stationed between your legs as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. At this point you were a whining mess for him. You were too distracted with your pleasure to realize he had pulled your panties to the side, thick fingers lined up with your sopping hole.

"God, you're perfect."

The captain's eyes snapped open upon hearing sounds emanating from the bedroom. Initially thinking it might be crying, he knocked on the door once.

With no response, he opened the door to investigate, finding you helplessly whimpering and pressing your thighs together in your sleep.

He was well Aware that intruding was not right, but he lingered a little longer, drawn by the sweet serenade of your voice. Going back to bed at this moment seemed impossible for him. His cock straining against his pants as discomfort grew, urging him to address it promptly.

He treaded back to the couch, every step carrying an enduring strain to his crotch. Fuck, those noises were driving him wild.

He knows it's not right, yet he pulled out his erection anyway. He needed relief, blood rushing to the tip as it sprung out of his pants. His arousal was yearning for a momentary reprieve.

He groaned as he started fisting his cock, guttural groans coming from his chest as he chased his release. His eyes fluttered closed, Imagining you spread out for him, begging for whatever he could give you. Your pretty body writhing underneath him while you worked in sync to reach that peak. Nails scratching at his back with each forceful thrust of his hips. He tried to stay as silent as he could, listening to the melody of your sounds. He tried to savor your sounds, prolonging his orgasm to the best of his ability. He couldn't hold it any longer, somewhat embarrassed at how fast he was going to finish.

The familiar feeling of his climax began to reach him, his lower abdomen flexing harshly with each stroke.

"Fuck"

His sticky cum flowed over him fingers as it spilled out from his twitching tip.

This was wrong, but god did it feel so fucking right.

Throughout the night, Simon couldn't shake the image of your shocked and saddened expression from his thoughts. All he longed for was to have you back with him at home. Who the fuck were you with anyway?

As the minutes stretched into hours, Simon's chest tightened with an unsettling jealousy. The anticipation of your return became a weighty burden, and the quiet emptiness of the house echoed his longing. He had watched you leave, hope clinging to the belief that you would soon walk back through the door. However, as the night wore on and you failed to return, that hope transformed into a bitter ache. Each passing moment fueled the jealousy that churned within him, a mix of fear and insecurity. The empty house seemed to mock his unspoken yearning, amplifying the silence that enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

The air hung heavy with tension when Johnny left the house, the weight of your discovery lingering in the strained atmosphere. The revelation of the affair had cast a pall over the once-shared space, leaving behind a palpable sense of betrayal. The door closed with a hollow finality, echoing the rupture in trust that now defined the relationship. He laid there in your empty bed, the aftermath of your revelation settling like dust in the room, and the emptiness of the departing footsteps mirrored the void that now consumed the once-shared moments with Johnny. The silence that followed was deafening, amplifying your absence.

When you left he was still pent up with arousal, so him and Johnny went a couple rounds, but he soon had to leave to get enough rest before the sun rose. With both of you no longer present, he truly began to realize he was alone.

Jealousy gnawed at Simon as he grappled with the unsettling uncertainty of your whereabouts. Each passing moment fueled his imagination, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of who you might be staying with. The unanswered questions echoed in his mind, creating a symphony of doubt and insecurity. The image of someone else occupying the space meant for him sparked a surge of possessiveness, leaving him yearning for the reassurance that you were still his. The silent house became a canvas for his anxious thoughts, and the suspense of not knowing intensified the monster within him, clouding his emotions with a turbulent mix of suspicion and anger.

Just who the fuck did you think you were, leaving like that?

He felt his jaw clench, thinking of you with someone other than him.

Every thought of someone else near you ignited a primal instinct to claim and protect what he considered his own. The mere idea of sharing your presence with another set off a storm of dominance, intensifying his need to assert his presence in your life. It was as if an invisible tether bound him to you, and the thought of anyone encroaching upon that connection stirred a fierce determination to safeguard what he considered rightfully his.

Sleep eluded him, elusive as his thoughts were ensnared in a web of restlessness. The weight of emotions, a mix of envy, dominance, and yearning, kept him tossing and turning in the dim silence of his bedroom. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance to the rhythm of his unsettled mind, casting a surreal atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within. The bed, usually a sanctuary, became a battleground for his inner struggles. The clock's ticking echoed like a constant reminder of the sleep he desperately sought but remained just out of reach. The night stretched on, a canvas painted with the shades of his unquiet thoughts, as he wrestled with the myriad emotions that held him captive in the wake of the events that unfolded.

Awakening to the robust aroma of tea wafting into your nose, you stretched out your well-rested limbs before swinging your legs over the side of the captain's bed. The lingering remnants of the dream from the night before clouded your thoughts, creating a palpable tension in the air. As you pondered how to navigate the interaction with him, uncertainty hung like a veil. The simple act of rising from the bed felt like stepping onto uncharted territory, and the fragrant tea served as a reminder of the shared space that had witnessed the intimate contours of your dreams. The challenge ahead lay in reconciling the vivid images of the night with the reality of the morning, as you grappled with the aftermath of the subconscious journey that now lingered between you and the captain.

You approached the bedroom door, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The journey down the corridor felt like a deliberate exploration, each step carrying a subtle anticipation. As you entered the kitchen, a captivating sight awaited you – the captain, turned away, engrossed in some task involving the kettle. The play of muscles beneath his skin was a spectacle, every inch defined and visible, yet soft. His silhouette painted a picture of strength and concentration, a moment frozen in time that captured the essence of his physicality. The air in the kitchen seemed charged with an energy that transcended the simple act of making tea, as you silently observed, feeling both a sense of intimacy and a respectful distance in the presence of this private moment.

"Good morning, Sergeant. thought I'd get some tea ready for ya."

You listened intently, and there was a warmth in the captain's voice as he completed the tea-making ritual. Even though you couldn't see his face, the audible smile in his words painted a vivid picture. The sound carried a gentle resonance, echoing the pleasure he took in the simple act of preparing tea. It was a melody of contentment, and the timbre of his voice conveyed a subtle joy that surpassed the mundane task. As you stood there, the audible smile became a shared moment in the quiet kitchen, a connection forged through the familiar sounds of morning rituals and the understanding that lingered between you and the captain.

"Thank you, Captain. For all of this. I owe you one."

The dual impact of your words and the vivid recollection combined to color his complexion with a subtle embarrassment. It was as if the mere mention of his title held a key to unlock a realm of thoughts he hadn't anticipated sharing. The involuntary flush revealed a vulnerability, a momentary glimpse into a private mental landscape stirred by arousal that lingered beyond the confines of last night. In that fleeting blush, a complex interplay of emotions unfolded, creating a connection between now and what he had done last night that had left its mark on the captain's waking thoughts.

"You owe me nothin', dove. Hush up and drink your tea." He uttered, handing you a partially hot cup of the chamomile beverage.

"Anything planned for today?" You asked while softly blowing on your tea.

"PT, but It's going to be different today, so don't you worry about lieutenant."

His words had the exact opposite effect on you. You were most definitely worrying about Simon.

Taglist: @ttsbaby01 @waves-against-a-cliff @konigslittleliebling @imjustheretofightforlove @beebeechaos @mikimumiki @splaterparty0-0

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

I AM LIVING FOR YOUR SLASHER HEADCANONS, esp the last post!! but i have a question: what do you think michael would do if the next time he wants to fuck, they’re like “nope, don’t want to, you didn’t make me cum” and is generally just provoking him and saying shit like “i can just find someone that CAN satisfy me” and other dumb shit. would he not care?? get jealous? knife through the door?? so many possibilities

Thank you thank you!!! <3

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐹𝑜𝓇

Featuring: Michael Myers

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, rough sex, overstimulation, general nsfw things, mdni, i got carried away, unedited because I didn't think i'd write this much

As for your question(s):

I think it definitely depends on how long you've known him. The only way he'd give a flying fuck about what you think is if he was down bad. Especially if we're talking about the OG Michael. RZ Michael is easier to convince to actually give a shit what you want in bed, but it's still not a priority for him. Still, there are certain personality traits you can exploit to get what you want. . .

-

When you first brought up that you were unsatisfied in bed, it was a very soft comment after he was done and zipping his jumpsuit back up.

"I didn't even cum. . ." you mumbled, staring at your bare abdomen and leaking cunt. It was all him. You didn't even have the chance to pleasure yourself; it was too difficult with him constantly flipping you over and manhandling you. Your body was sore and bruised, but you laid there, discontent.

You moved your gaze to look at his masked face. Judging by the way he stopped his movements, he'd heard you. You bit your lip, turning your eyes away and down to your hands which fiddled with each other. You knew he didn't care, but it would be nice if he did.

"Just get out, okay?" you spoke, embarrassed and a little angry. "I'll just get myself off since you can't seem to do it."

Your tone had him walking around to the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded knife from the nightstand. You flinched, but didn't bother to run. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already.

Just as you figured, he turned back around, trudging out of your bedroom with the blade in his grip. You rolled your eyes. You were half tempted to call up and old friend of yours for a night, but realized that might end in bloodshed. Michael was much too possessive for that.

Suddenly, an idea crossed your mind. You knew Michael was selfish, but he also always had something to prove. He wanted to, no, needed to be the best at everything. Nobody could escape, outrun, or hide from him, and he knew that. So what if. . .

It was a few days later when he came back, heavy footsteps on your porch alerting you. Still, you pretended not to notice, phone up to your ear as you chatted. You were leaned against the kitchen counter, occasionally popping some popcorn into your mouth.

The door to your house creaked open before shutting again. You paid no mind.

"Go out? Ha," you spoke, fingers moving around a stray popcorn kernel absentmindedly. "If I want to get drunk, I'll do it in my own home, thank you very much."

At this point, he was looming in the kitchen doorway, but you didn't even bother with a glance.

"Oh, go out to meet someone, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be nice. . . I mean sure, there's a guy that stops by, but I'd be lying if I said I was satisfied." You leaned against your fridge, his massive form still lingering just a few feet away.

"It's just. . . other people I've been with have gotten me off four, five times a night, but this guy? Not once. Yeah. You heard me. Not once."

You made sure to emphasize that last phrase. You knew the dangerous game you were playing, but you didn't care. "Talk to him? Girl, I've tried. He's like a brick wall. Doesn't even say goodbye. As soon as he's done he's out the door. Rude? Tell me about it. Sure, I've had better, but he always keeps crawling back looking like a kicked puppy. I just kind of feel sorry for him."

You didn't have time to speak again before the phone was ripped from your grasp and tossed carelessly across the kitchen, plastic pieces shattering across the tile.

One hand wrapped around your throat while the other rested just beside your head, almost denting your poor fridge with the force. The choke was painful but not deadly, and you locked eyes with the culprit, staring intently.

He pulled you against him before slamming you back against the fridge, and you winced at the sudden force. "What's wrong with you?" you sputtered out, your hands trying to fight the grip on your throat.

He glanced at the destroyed phone, and you had to stifle a smirk from appearing on your lips.

With another slam, he finally released his hand from your neck, and you took in a few shaky breaths. Still, he loomed close enough to leave you pressed against him.

"You're angry," you spoke, rubbing the marks forming on your neck. "I assumed Michael Myers never got angry."

He looked to the shattered telephone again before looking back at you. He wanted an explanation.

"What do you want me to say? It's true. And I'm pissed about it. All you ever do is use me then leave. I haven't had a proper orgasm in weeks!" You pushed your hands against his chest angrily, but he didn't budge. "I know you're not a good man, but it still isn't fair. I can't even call anyone because you'll have a knife through their neck before they can get their pants off."

He let out a breath, both hands finding purchase on your hips. "Now's not the time," you huffed, moving to push his hands away. His grip tightened. You headbutted his chest, forehead resting against the rough material of his jumpsuit. How could he be raring to go at a time like this? "Unless you've got anything planned for me tonight, I'm not interested."

He didn't falter. You looked back up to try and read his face through his mask. It did not work. You could tell he was. . . different than usual, but he was probably still pissed off from your words over the phone.

His fingers nestled behind the waistband of your shorts, and in one fell swoop they dropped to the floor. You stayed silent. He never had the decency to take your clothes off. It was always ripped or sliced, and there was never any time taken. Hell, he'd never taken your shorts off without your underwear going with.

You stifled a laugh. Was he actually. . . trying?

He slid a knee between your thighs, pinning you. One hand explored your upper half, sliding under your shirt until he hit your bra. His other hand travelled downwards, slipping underneath your panties. You felt a rough digit slide against your clit and let out a sudden breath. Quickly, he backtracked, moving back up until he found that same spot.

You had to bite your lip to prevent a gasp from leaving it. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been stimulated there. It was suddenly all too-sensitive.

Two fingers caught the small nub, and you had to grip his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling. The digits toyed with it, squeezing and brushing like he was testing something. Your forehead pressed against his chest as heavy breaths left you.

One hand worked at massaging your chest, running a thumb against your nipple, while the other played with your clit harshly. You didn't expect him to be gentle in the slightest, but it still had you shimmying your hips in discomfort. It's not that you weren't aroused, and in fact, you were all too turned on. He'd never shown any interest in any part of you besides your cunt and mouth, and even then it was only to slide his dick into. This? This was all new. This feeling of rough hands overtaking your body, touching your skin, pleasuring you for the first time. . .

You pushed your hips forwards, trying to gain friction. With any luck, you could actually get off tonight.

Suddenly, all hands were off of you and he stepped back, tilting his head.

You rushed to hold yourself up, knees wobbly. You shot daggers at him, eyes burning. He stopped. Why the fuck did he stop?

He stared at you, waiting for something. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking as put-together as you could with wetness creeping down your thighs and shorts discarded on the floor.

"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you want," you muttered. "Congratulations, you found the clit. Took you long enough. You'll have to work a little harder if you're looking to clear your name."

In a flash, he had you hauled over his shoulder, and you let out a gasp of surprise. You could only sigh as he took you to your destination.

You were dropped onto your bed, legs dangling off the front as he pushed you down into the mattress. You cocked a brow.

In an event you'd never thought would happen, he kneeled down in front of you, hands spreading your thighs apart. Was this a dream? You were in shock. There's no way he was going to. . .

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your panties were slid down your legs and tossed aside. It didn't take long before one hand was back between your legs, rubbing your clit as the other pressed against your stomach to keep you in place. You couldn't move your thighs which were locked apart, blocked by his shoulders.

You couldn't sit up with the way he had you pinned, and so stared at the ceiling, hands gripping the sheets.

A new sensation startled you, and you tried desperately to sit up enough to see, but it was no use.

It was his tongue, dragging up your folds until he reached your clit. He took the nub in his mouth, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent the noise that threatened to come out.

That old and familiar feeling built within you, like a spring coiling and coiling, ready to snap. Your mind went blank as a tension built within you. It was like everything but your cunt was numb. There, feeling was in overdrive. Every swipe of his tongue, every prod of his fingers inside of you, swiping forward to push against your favorite spot: it was too much.

You came with a breathless gasp, back arched as your hands dug into the sheets. Even without seeing, you knew your cunt was a mess. You could feel your cum seeping out. You could smell the scent of sex in the room. Your thighs shook, pussy clenching around nothing.

You expected him to pull back, but instead you felt his tongue licking at your cunt, swiping up any spill into his mouth. You let out a whine as he prodded inside, tongue lapping up your wetness.

Digits were back to circling your clit, and you moaned, still much too sensitive. Despite this, he had no intentions of stopping, instead switching out his fingers for his mouth as he thrust a finger inside of you. You had no time to process before another joined the first. Your head pressed desperately against your bedsheets.

"Slow down," you gasped, voice shaking. He didn't heed your words, and in fact, sped up the way his fingers pushed in and out of you. You whined. The tension was already back and ready to snap within you.

"Michael," you cried, eyes clenched shut. "Please!" You weren't sure what you were pleading for.

You came again, more violently than the last. Over and over your cunt pulsed, leaking your cum to pool at your enterance, only to be pushed back in with the shove of his fingers.

"Okay! Okay! You win!" you panted, wiping the sweat from your face.

When he still showed no signs of letting up, all you could do was let out a weak groan. You got what you desired, you supposed. But it seemed he found something he liked as well.

All this because you decided to talk a little shit about him. You didn't dare tell him there was nobody on the other line.

[devieuls]

ˋ Love Lessons .

Neteyam Sully x Omatikaya Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : After years of friendship, you realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend Neteyam, but you decide to keep your crush to yourself, afraid of ruining your relationship. The only thing that gave you any comfort was the fact that Neteyam was not interested in any woman, until one day he asks you for advice to make his crush understand that he is interested in her.

Warning : SMUT MDNI - Bites, oral sex, canines, hickeys, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, light dirty talk, foreplay…

Lenght : 5k

Notes : I don’t know, I feel like I could have done better. There are some smut parts that I liked more than others, but I don’t know. I think I’ll do it again later, I also tried to contain myself in detail (as a test, but I think I will continue to write with many details)

NETEYAM: 22 y.o / Y/N: 20 y.o

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles; KARYU: Teacher

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

As long as you can remember, Neteyam Sully has always been the person closest to you, covering your back every time you created trouble in the Omatikaya clan or got into trouble with your own family. Fortunately your parents trusted Neteyam blindly, after all he was the son of the Olo'eykte and as he grew up, his reputation grew with him, making him worthy of the trust of the whole clan. You could consider him your best friend, who understood and appreciated your rebellious spirit and so contrasted with his, creating a perfect balance in your relationship, as one gave the other what one lacked.

When you were younger it seemed easier to see you only as friends, but when you came of age you found it difficult to see Neteyam only as a friend. You had to admit that he had become a handsome Na'vi, an excellent warrior and probably the definition of perfection in the flesh, always teasing him about things like "You are Eywa’s favorite" and similar phrases. It was a fact that Neteyam excelled at everything he experimented with, so much so that he was the first Na'vi of his group to complete his Iknimaya on the first try, so you assumed he was perfect at everything. You never tried to make him understand your true feelings, intimidated by the fact that he would probably reject you and drive you away, ruining a friendship that lasted for years. So you arrived at the age of twenty with a huge crush on your best friend, watching in silence as the young Na'vi attached to him and flirted to become his companion and one day Tsahìk. You were heartened that he never told you about a particular girl, so you weren’t afraid to lose him yet, not wanting to realize that one day it’ll be too late to come out.

"Yn? Why are you so thoughtful?" Neteyam asked you as you walked through the forest, to reach your secret place where you two spent most of your time. "Mh? A-Ah, nothing, I was just seeing if there were fruits around to collect and take with us" You replied, smiling at the Na'vi near you, trying to drive away all the thoughts that haunted your mind. "Are you sure? If you need to talk to me about something, here I am, you know ma Tanhì" His sweet and caring voice was just one of many curses that didn't help your arduous feat of not thinking of him as a possible partner, but only as a childhood friend. "Yes" you hissed, forcing a smile and then turning away from him, bringing it back on the path before you. You kept walking for a few minutes and then you stopped because of Neteyam who got stuck in his footsteps. You looked at him worried, thinking that he had stepped on a poisonous animal that created paralysis or something like this, but then he turned to you with an embarrassed and shy look. "Ma Tanhì… can I ask you something?" he asked nervously, while scratching the back of his neck, noticing a slight veil of redness on his cheeks. "Umh… yes, tell me" you answered, approaching him, trying to figure out what question might embarrass him this way. "How do you get a girl?" The question hit you directly where it would hurt you most. "I-I mean, I’m asking you because you’re my only female friend, and I know asking Kiri would be the same as being mocked by all my siblings, and my mom isn’t the type to make that clear, saying things like 'follow your heart' or 'be yourself', so… I was hoping to hear it from you," he continued shyly.

At that moment all your beliefs collapsed like a house of cards, realizing that it was now too late even to mention that you had a crush on him. You didn’t react right away, your heart weighed so much that it crushed your lungs, taking away your ability to speak. After a few seconds you began to laugh, hiding your pain behind this action, hoping that Neteyam would not notice from your eyes that you were hurt. "The mighty warrior Neteyam, son of the Olo'eyktan and golden boy of the Omatikaya clan does not know how to get a girl? Really?" You asked ironically, knowing perfectly well that every girl in the clan would fall at his feet with a simple smile or greeting. "Neteyam, knowing you, you’ll just need to introduce yourself to this girl and she’ll be at your feet." your voice was a little tougher but sincere. You started walking in the forest followed by Neteyam who was trying to keep your quick step. "Let’s say she’s not like the other girls, this girl probably doesn’t even see me… Or if she does, she doesn’t do it the way I would" Unknowingly Neteyam was stabbing your heart repeatedly with those words. "Neteyam, c'mon. All the village women have a crush on you, you are the ideal type of all, so I doubt that 'this girl' doesn't see you as you would like" You snort while moving the plants to walk, feeling the look of Neteyam burn on your back and then sigh. "I’m telling you, that’s it. Y/n, you’re my…best friend, help me. Please, I promise I’ll cover you with your parents when you run off in the middle of the night, whatever you want" his desperate voice made you laugh, having never heard he beg like this.

"And you’ll have to take Tuk and my little sister Popiti out whenever they want. Plus, you will accompany me and Kiri to collect beads and objects in the forest" You turned to him suddenly, finding him a few inches away from your body. backing up because of the short distance between your bodies. "All right, will you help me?" he lowered his voice quietly, looking you in the eye while waiting for your answer. "Yes… Tell me about this girl." You back off before you start walking again, trying to calm your heart that was starting to run in your chest. Your tone was slightly cold, you didn’t really want to hear him talk about his crush, but as his friend you couldn’t even back out, not after he was always there for you. "Well, she’s… you know…" he began in a dreamy, excited tone, following the direction you were taking. "Perfect. There’s not much else to describe her with. She’s different from all the girls I’ve ever met, she’s kind, caring, and she loves being with kids. I know she’s a rebellious spirit and she likes to make things. is perfect, then her hair-" you stopped him before he could continue to describe her and go into pseudo-romantic details like the smell of her hair or the sound of her laughing. "That’s enough, I could throw up if you started listing the physical characteristics too" Neteyam laughed embarrassedly, remaining behind you. "Have you already come out? Or have you at least made her think you’re interested?" Your voice became slightly gloomy, and then stopped once you arrived at your secret place.

The place was lovely, you had found it as children and from that day had become your place, there was a small waterfall that created a kind of crystalline lake that connected to a small river hidden by high plains and thick nature. You and Neteyam sat on the grass to talk more comfortably. "No, I don’t know how to tell her or make her understand… I thought it would be easier, but every time I try, she doesn’t understand it or she starts laughing thinking that maybe I’m joking" he sighed heavily, and then he looks up to the sky. "And how did you 'try'?" Your eyes met his, trying to help him in some way, even if you would have preferred to do the opposite. You still had to realize that Neteyam could fail in something as easy as courtship. "Lo'ak told me to show interest, to be empathetic and to be myself, but all this I already did. My mother said that showing myself confident would be attractive, but I’m confident and direct in words, and showing respect." Neteyam dropped on his back and snorted, clearly frustrated by the situation, which you also noticed from the nervous oscillation of his tail "'Teyam, I know no one more respectful than you, as I said, you would be the perfect mate for any girl in the village." You admitted looking at the guy who was now lying next to you, unable to look away from his sculpted body, following every line of his body, enchanted by how his chest rose and lowered with every breath.

"Then what do I do… Why doesn’t she understand? It’s obvious that I’m doing something wrong in the courtship, ma Tanhì" his head turned towards you, looking at you while you were sitting and watching him, making him blush slightly. "Maybe start complimenting her, girls love that. Put your hand in her hair when you talk to her, like moving a strand behind her ear, looking for physical contact makes understand your intentions, especially by the way you do it. Oh! Make her laugh, if you can make her laugh, surely you have done most of the work" your voice was bitter in your throat, you were hating giving that kind of advice knowing that he would use them with who knows who. Neteyam as he watched you listening attentively and taking mental notes of what you advised him. " And be attentive to the details, what interests her etc… if you remember important events in her life or what she loves to do, it is a clear sign of interest. Plus if you have common interests, could you do it together, for example, she likes hunting?" he looked at you enchanted for a few seconds, then nodded and said "Yeah, she likes it" his voice lowered slightly, as he looked at you, hoping that you would understand. "Well, you can ask her to hunt with you. You’re a great hunter, you’ll definitely impress her. And then… umh, I don’t know, maybe be present in her days, even with a greeting, maybe looking for her look or bringing her something you know she might like. And be direct, let her know that you like her, maybe you take her and tell her, you create the right atmosphere… yeah, you know… things like that" You looked away from Neteyam’s, feeling a strong twinge in your heart that made it hard to speak again, feeling as if I had helped him get away from you. "What if she doesn’t understand it? she’s a good friend, and I don’t know if she’ll reciprocate" You clenched your jaw, maybe understanding who that girl was. Your mutual friend had been acting weird with you for weeks, and Neteyam was acting strangely the same way. Now all the dots were connecting in your mind. " He will understand, if you will be directed with there is another way. If it is not a skxawng. In case you make yourself heard and give her special attentions." You said with clenched teeth, unable to hide the annoyance anymore.

"Ma Tanhì," he whispered, approaching you, sitting again just to lay two fingers under your chin, turning your face towards him. Your noses brushed lightly as his eyes rolled down your lips. "And as actions?… what should I do?" his hoarse voice struck you in a strange way the back and the lower abdomen. "U-umh… Maybe you should… w-well" The breath died in your throat, going to create a knot that pushed down all the words that were going to come out of your lips. " Hmm? I should what, ma Tanhi?" your noses rubbed against each other again, and for a few seconds you deluded yourself that he wanted to kiss you, perhaps failing to realize what was happening. His eyes returned to yours, making you feel a flock of Sturmbeest in your belly. "L-like… kissing her" You whispered with a thread of voice, while his free hand went to move behind your ear some strands of hair, then caress your cheek with his thumb. You swallowed loudly, noticing how Neteyam’s eyes seemed so concentrated in yours, leaving you amazed. "Should I?" His words made you take a deep breath, feeling suddenly weak. "You should…" Neteyam’s smile caught your eyes, staring at his opened lips, which received a mischievous smirk. "Yes, I should."

Suddenly a strong heat hit your body, causing your heart to pump as much blood as possible into your veins as your cheeks burned. Neteyam’s lips met yours, his hands moved from your face to hold the sides of your neck, pressing the thumbs on your jaw. You stood by that unexpected approach, and then only realized it when Neteyam’s tongue pounded against your lips and welcomed it into your mouth. You felt his sweet taste because of the fruit that you both had eaten just before walking into the forest, you moaning in his lips trying to break away from the passionate kiss to catch your breath. Neteyam bit your lip, pulling it with his fangs, now moving his hands between your hair and around your waist, pressing your head against his lips making you groan as your flickering fingers grazed the hard skin of his abdomen. His warm skin contracting under your fingers, as if you were made of pure fire, so much so that when you felt more confident of yourself and your body, you sat on top of him. Your legs tied to his pelvis, squeezing him to you as he did to your body, shuddering when his hand that was once on his waist was now climbing up your bare back, making you arch your body like a cat. You trembled when he came off your lips with a snap that accompanied the sound of the waterfall shattering against the surface of the water, making you pant and gasp to regain the air you had lost. Your red face and half-closed eyes while Neteyam pressed your fingertips on your body.

You feared, for a second, that everything would be over after that kiss and that the embarrassment would lead you two to stay away, but your fears were swept away when you tried to get up from his legs and Neteyam prevented you, starting to kiss your jaw. In silence your bodies were calling each other, you felt the pressure of his whole being against you and new electric shocks hit your back. His soft, moist lips drew wet kisses on your jaw, starting to bite and suck down your neck as your head bent backwards, keeping your eyes half closed. His tongue was even more raw with your already sensitive neck, rough and greedy explored every inch of your skin, occasionally pressing his canines, panting raucously as he savored you. Letting sweet moans come out of your throat in despair as your fingers crawled into his braids, seeking comfort. The curious and hungry eyes of Neteyam studied your skin, feeling contentment in feeling the trembling and shivers he caused you, enjoying your heavy breaths and the noises you made to contain the moans, as if you could be ashamed of something he was trying to hear with such desperation. Your back gently collided against the grass when Neteyam stretched you under him, sliding his lips down your body, as his fingers gently removed the braided top that covered your breasts, as if to give you time to stop him if you wanted. Your eyes rolled backwards as his rough tongue collided against your nipple, and his hand crept in agonizing slowly between your legs, caressing it. You bit your lip violently when you felt the gentle and circular movements of his thumb on your clitoris, feeling the chills come down and hit right where Neteyam was playing with his fingers.

The red cheeks began to burn on your face, as you carried a hand to your mouth to force you not to let him hear your stifled moans, even if your hot body betrayed you. A smothered scream of pleasure instinctively came out of your lips when Neteyam’s fingers slid very easily into you. You suddenly felt airless, your eyes wide open and your body trembling, eager to hear what else he had in store for you. Neteyam’s hoarse laugh made your tail stand on end behind you, while the tip of your head swelled because of excitation, making you blush even more. "No need to be embarrassed, it’s normal that you like this, ma Tanhì" he whispered against your skin, making you arch your back again because of his rough pumping on your breasts. "Shh, baby, just… enjoy the moment and let me hear how much you like it" Neteyam’s voice was getting lower and slower, more sensual, knowing that you would like this. Swallow loudly when Neteyam made his way up to your thighs, leaving behind a trail of burning wet kisses, accompanying his movements with his fingers firmly inside you, which continued to move as if they were waves, making your legs tremble. Your sensitive breasts made you shudder because of the light breeze and saliva that the boy had left on the tip, and when you lowered your head to look for his eyes, you found him blowing against the bundle of nerves that yearned to be satisfied. You once again felt his tongue but this time he was working through your needy folds, loving the way one of his muscles could make you feel all that ecstasy. You whined as your hands went to clench the soft grass to find a foothold to release the frustration of too much pleasure, dropping your head backwards, hoping to muffle as much as possible your desperate moans. Neteyam looked for your face, eager to notice the impatience of your eyes and watch your face become a mess just for him, with the aim of giving you as much pleasure as possible, wanting to feel you up to bring you orgasm. He started savoring your intimacy, tickling your folds with the tip of your tongue, making you grunt as you clenched your teeth. When he started sucking, you felt something break in you, you couldn’t even cover your mouth as you groaned his name without shame, watching as he was focused on feeding on your excitement. Your hand again found place in his hair, pulling them and accompanying his movements as he gave you pleasure. "Look how wet you are for me, you wanted me so badly?" Neteyam said with sensual voice, between a lick and a lukewarm breath to make you shiver and whimping.

Your legs began to feel tired and heavy around his cheeks, trying to close together to stop feeling that tingling and flickering caused by too much pleasure. Neteyam wrapped his big hands around your thighs, opening them wider, locking them as much as possible against the ground below as his fingers sank into your soft flesh. His jaw continued to move between your legs with a heartbreaking rhythm that went from slow and gentle to rude and fast, making your walls tighten around his wet muscle. Neteyam broke away from you when he felt that your intimacy was wet enough not to make you feel pain when he slips inside you. His eyes peered at your body beneath him, still trembling and sensitive, touching your already sweaty skin, worshipping how you writhed and gasped under him. You could only take courage later, drawing him to your lips after your fingers hooked to the necklace on his neck. You tasted your own intrinsic moods in your best friend’s saliva as you embraced his body between your legs, rubbing his covered intimacy with your naked, feeling him grunting in your mouth. You smiled as you felt him vulnerable above you, taking advantage of that moment to put yourself on top of him, your back arched toward him to allow you to continue the kiss that was giving relief to both of you. You began to rub yourself on his still-covered sex, feeling pleasure when his throbbing muscle found space in your heat, moaning with pleasure, as your hands on his chest could feel the contractions and chills running through his body as well.

"Hmhm, I know something you’d like to try." Neteyam said as he wrapped his hands around your bare hips, observing the red and purple spots that covered your body. "What?" you whispered in response, as you detached yourself from his lips, observing him with ardent desire. One of his hands came up on your face, placing three fingers on your jaw and thumb on your lips, caressing your soft mouth, and then gently tapping on it. "Open." he ordered. His eyes following your every move, worshipping the way you obeyed him by opening your mouth and taking his thumb in your mouth, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively began to lick and suck his finger greedily, whining as you felt the slightly salty taste against your tongue. "Good girl, you already understood" Neteyam continued, as his hand on his side began to explore every inch of your body with desire. The Na'vi lowered you to the height of his loincloth and you smiled before taking your face away from where Neteyam was leading you, back on his face, sliding his salivated thumb out of his mouth. "Hmhm, here I decide, 'Teyam" you whispered to his ear, noticing with the corner of your eye his jaw contracted as your fingers find their way under his loincloth, just after picking up some of your moods still dripping from your intimacy, wrapping your phalanges around his needy manhood. You heard him growl after panting because of your touch, his chest rising and the frustrated breath of his nostrils against your neck, making you smile for the effect you had on him. Your hand began to slide up and down his erection with gradual speed, you felt his hoarse and rough groans against your skin, his hands clasping your thighs and his breathless breaths. Your lips went to tease the shell of his ear, leaving some magnate kisses or slight licks. When you felt quite satisfied with how he was also pining under you, you lowered yourself making sure you kept eye contact. Your hand went to move and later rip off his loincloth; Neteyam bit his lip and then groaned deeply when your mouth wrapped around his glans, starting to tease the tip with your tongue. Your head slid along his entire length to completely conceal it, immediately moving the head with greed, making him hiss and wince under you. The vein of his penis pulsed incessantly against the inside of your cheek, as he bit his lip and carried a hand to collect your hair in a tight vise.You felt his erection collide several times against the deepest point of your throat, letting you fuck your mouth by Neteyam, before breaking off with tears of pleasure sliding on your face. Your lips swollen and reddened, covered with drool as you tried to start breathing regularly sent him into ecstasy.

The pre-cum that came out of Neteyam’s sex illuminated your lips, making him turn on more to the vision of you with swollen and dirty lips of him. He took you by the hair and carried you back under him, and then he opened your legs and slid inside you with a facility that you would not have expected. You moaned breathlessly as his hips collided with yours in that way, carrying your hands against his back, beginning to scratch and tighten his skin with need. Your cheeks reddened that welcomed other lukewarm tears, your legs tight around his pelvis and the strong heat that at each push accumulated inside you. His tail wrapped around your heel, holding you still due to spasms of pleasure. Neteyam’s hoarse groans did not delay in striking your ears, as he held you by the hips, caressing your trembling thighs and twitching at each of his lunges. Your sweaty bodies colliding with every little movement, making you more hot and eager to consume you. Your lips met once again, growling at each other every time Neteyam pushed against your G-spot, your willows stirring each other’s hormones still stuck in your mouths. You bit his lips when he began to push and grind inside you shamelessly, growling at him before whining, making him excite even more as he purposely struck where your walls held him tighter due to sensitivity. You felt Neteyam’s body stiffen and twitching above you just before reaching orgasm and pouring out of you in time, then carrying two fingers inside you and starting to pump until you reach your peak shortly after him.

You whimpered loudly after the strong orgasm that mercilessly hit you; your heavy, sore thighs as your orgasm crashed into him and hot splashes of your cum poured over his hand. He gasped entranced, stunned by the lust and how your body looked so soft and relaxed after cumming. You took long deep breaths, looking at the green leaves so far away from you because of the trees too high, the sun that lightly struck the place where you were made you return to reality. You blush when Neteyam lays next to you, looking up at him too.

"Well, then…" He started, while you recovered with your hand the pieces of clothes to cover yourself again, hoping that you both would turn a blind eye. "Hmm…" You whine while avoiding his gaze with all your heart. "Do you think after all this, you realize I have a crush on you? If even this way you don’t understand that I like you, I don’t know what other kind of attention to give you to make it clear" he said casually. You shuddered and looked at him in shock. "Excuse you?" you whispered not really wanting to understand the meaning of his words. "I say, did you understand that you are the girl I was trying to conquer?" Your eyes met and you swallowed. "I don’t know how to ask you more directly than that, and don’t think I’m not afraid to ruin our friendship. But I like you, not just aesthetically, i love every part of you. I’ve been trying to make you understand this for six years, not that I didn’t like you as a child…" His voice was slightly shaky, as you watched him in silence, trying to figure out how to respond. "You never let me know…" you whispered as you blushed. Neteyam laughed and led you to lean on his chest, wrapping your body with arms "You really are a skxawng, ma Tanhì. I’m supposed to be teaching you. But how to figure out that someone has a crush on you." You hit him blushing while hiding your face on his chest. "Yeah, yeah, lessons from a guy who doesn’t even know how to come out and only does it after having sex with his crush. The great Karyu, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" You teased him and then got pinched on the hips by his hands. "Not that you ever noticed I’ve had a crush on you for ages." Neteyam looked at you perplexed, and you couldn’t contain the laughter.

"See? Other than 'lessons'. You’re more Skxawng than I am, ma 'Teyam."

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604

[berriblossom]

Cold hands and warm love

[Date with Death : Casper x Reader] [i am positively obsessed with this man that he's making write again| spoilers for endings#3 btw and the story.]

There's something so oddly soothing watching Casper sleep with Azrael in his arms, all snuggled up without a care in the world. His ghostly white locks sprawled against your shared bed sheets. His eyes ever so softly flutteribg against his pale cheeks, the rays of sunlight dance across his face, almost creating his own personal golden hour.

You chuckled at the idea. Casper wasn't a huge fan of super bright things. Even when you managed to convince him to walk outside your apartment with you, he dons a pair of black shades and scowls at everything. Now that you think about it, he's even more like a black cat than anything, rather than a sign of bad luck but rather for his sassy attitude and his dislike for certain things.

As you quietly watch from your desk, with your pet sitting in the empty sunny spot of the bed, you think back to how long its been since tou winning the bet and being a somewhat embodiment of life while your sweet little now former Grim Reaper is the opposite.

Goodness, one small picture shouldn't hurt? Besides, Casper can't argue with how many not-so-sly pictures he has taken of you randomly as of late. Even changing his profile pick of you sleeping with Azrael while you napped on your bed after work. He tried fighting it off, saying he mainly picked the picture because Azrael looked so good in it while you just happened to be there....no other reason...(he said this while fighting off a flustered face while gazing back at the picture. He then denied making it his lockscreen too.)

You picked up your phone and began to open the camera feature and angle the camera to get the best picture possible. Hell you even move from the desk to hover slightly over Casper and your pet to get the best angle. "Stay right there pretty boy....just perfect..." you mumbled while snapping a few silent pictures. You went to adjust his snowy hair to move from his beautiful face. Just as you touch his cool face, sleepy red eyes flutter open and the iconic pout appears on the reapers face.

"Sunshine....what are you doing? Why do you have your phone like that..." Casper's eyes flutter as he fights off the sunlight beaming through the blinds, all while his sour pout turns into a playful one. Your pet scatters away while Casper tries to snatch your phone away to see the sneaky pictures you've taken of his sleeping figure.

"Ah ah ah! Nope, absolutely not pretty boy, if you can take pictures then so can I!" You shuffle off the side of the bed while Casper jumps up to grasp your hand and to get those pictures. You tease and weave yourself away from him and the bed, sitting on the edge you laugh at how pouty and upset Casper is.

His frustration only exceeded when you decided to flash him the adorable and beautiful picture of him in his sleeping form. As casper has told you before, reapers do not need to sleep or eat. But the idea that he was so comfy in your blanket and bed, cuddling Azrael closely. It just made you want to tease your little reaper to bits. Though sadly your teasing and fun was put to an end.

Suddenly, you felt two strong cold hands wrap around your torso and squeeze you gently. You could feel Caspers lips against your neck as he mumbked for you to please delete the picture. As adorable and pretty as he could be in those moments...the little rat decided to try and tickle you to get you to give uo your phone.

Luckily you were quick enough to slip from his grasp again(heh get it) and make your way back to your bed while cherishing your sweet victory. "Sorry casp, but you look too good! I might make this my profile picture on the chat room too!" His frustrated groans on embarrassment only fueled your decision.

"Sunshin pleeasseee....just....atleast make it your lockscreeb to while your at it...since you can't stop looking and staring at me. Just can't get enough, silly mortal.." ah his ability to bounce back is incredible as ever. But still it was fun while it lasted. Casper came to join you on the bed while bringing you back close to him...somethibg about "being warm." But you did not mind.

You'll never mind, your soul brings him warmth, his perfect heater if youll say. You chuckle as he scrolls through his camera roll whie trying to find a picture of you(an god awful one) to place as his profile picture on the chatroom. Yeah its going to be a long day. But you never minded.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of the break up has different effects on both, Azriel and Reader.

A/N: yall I'm sick🥲 the updates might be late but I'll try to post as much as possible. Hope you like this one!

Pieces Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

It's been one month.

One month of Healing.

When azriel left, I told myself that I will not contact him until I'm ready. Doesn't matter how much I'm missing him or wanting him. I will not talk to him until I know I won't take him back the second I see him again.

I gave myself two days. Two days to sulk all I wanted. I spent the whole time crying and feeling miserable about myself. Before Az left at least, I wasn't by myself. At least I saw him once a day.

Now? Nothing.

I am totally alone. His absence hit me Hard. Everything I saw, almost brought me to my knees.

The kitchen where we would make dinner together, laughing and joking with each other that many times ended with us covered in flour and syrup.

The couch where we would sit cuddling and talking until we fell asleep, always waking up with strained muscles.

His office where he would sit on his chair in front of his desk, writing out reports and whatnot while I sit in his armchair reading my book. Just enjoying each others company and occasionally taking breaks to make out on the very deck, and then some.

After those dreadful days though, I called Feyre and Mor and had a very much needed girls night. We took out a wine bottle and I spilled everything to them. My mind was too drunk to think my feelings about Elain might offend Feyre but she genuinely felt sad for me and embarrassed about her sister. The poor girl even apologised to my about Elain's behavior to which I immediately told her it wasn't her fault.

When I told them how lonely it got being alone in a big house like this, they suggested maybe I should get a job or something to keep my mind distracted and promised that they'll visit me often. So I did juat that.

I found a part time job at a local library. I have to admit, I'm really enjoying it. I'm the second assistant to the sweetest lady, Hilda, who owns the shop. I don't do much, just help her in small things like adjusting books on self or helping in shipping books out or in. Layla, the first assistant, handles most of the work around the shop. My job is basically doing what she asks of me. The salary isn't much but I don't care because it's never been about money.

The first week was very hard. Everyday after I came home, the silence felt like a slap on the face, reminding me of everything I lost.

But, slowly, I became comfortable with it. Now it's doesn't hurt me as it did before.

There were many times when I think of Azriel, tears filled my eyes, but I never let them free. I sucked them in and did anything else that didn't made me cry, like taking baths, baking my favorite chocolate brownies, reading in front of the fire place while drinking hot coco or calling my friends to take me shopping.

And as time went. I started to heal. I started to feel good, happier with myself. And without even realizing it, I started to love myself.

-☆-

Azriel

It's been one month.

One month of regretting everything I did to my mate.

I've spent my whole month sulking in this room, crying and regretting everytime I chose Elain over my wife. I haven't slept at all since I came here, just enough to keep me functioning. My appetite is gone. I don't eat unless Rhys come and force feeds me like I'm some baby.

I told Rhysand and Cassian everything the first morning i stayed here. Which earned me a flick to head by Cassian and a very disappointed look from Rhys. Even though they didn't give me any scolding(which I very much deserved), the flick and expression said enough.

Rhys has refrained me of any work, handling it himself or having someone else do it. While I have been sitting around here and hating myself. It seems like even my mind has declared itself an enemy, showing me memories of everytime I dismissed Y/N and hurt her in any way at most random times, cutting a deeper cut in my heart everytime.

"Hey Az, I was thinking if we could go out for dinner tonight? There is this new amazing restaurant I saw while walking near Sidra. I really want to try it." She told me as I put on my coat, ready to go.

"I can't, I have a mission for today. Rhys told me it's important so I can't skip. We'll go some other time. Okay?"

"Ok."

I could hear the excitement in her voice when she asked me and the hurt when I rejected her and promised to go another time. The time never came. She never asked again. And I never noticed.

"Az, are you awake?" She whispers in the dead of night. Both of us sleeping on the bed. My back to her, hoping to fall asleep quickly because I have early training tomorrow.

Cassian is spending time with Nesta more, so Rhys has told me to go to an illyrian camp to check how things are going. I have to wake and go there early to catch them off guard to see what's truly going on.

I can't do that if Y/N doesn't let me sleep.

I didn't answer her that night, hoping if i dont respond, she'll think im asleep and doesnt call me again. She really didnt call me again. I prioritized my sleep over her. Her voice sounded so small. She needed me. And I didn't care.

"So, I saw a really cute baby in garden today and..." I drone out her babbling and try to quickly I can get out of here, I promised Elain to help in her garden today. She'll be disappointed if I show up late.

"Az? You're listening to me right?" She suddenly questions, I clear my throat and answer a small, of course, she nods and takes a deep breath, not saying anything anymore. I sign in relief of the silence.

I put my head in my hands and tug hard on my hair, wanting to feel hurt, hurt the kind that she clearly felt and I didn't care.

I hate myself more and more as memories flash through my mind. I can't even cry at this point. I wished she'd hit me when we fought. Slaped and paunched some sense into me. I don't blame her at all for not talking to me. Gods, I wouldn't even blame her if she left me. I deserve it.

How do I fix this?

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten

[pinktom]

i was smeared on twitter! xD

This morning, I was delighted with a series of fascinating screenshots.

I'm being smeared on Twitter! By someone I don't know, who hasn't even read Lover's Spit, because I do not want to spoil aspects of my own fic.

And it didn't stop there, friends!

Obviously you can tell by the "18 Likes" there were at least 19 people outing themselves as haters. 😔

Let's be clear: if you're twiggered 👉👈 by seeing Tom Riddle bottom, block me and move on

Not because I'm out here publishing smut left and right (I'm not even a smut writer), but because there is absolutely no way you could possibly enjoy my content if you're a fixed shipper.

Is it about who tops and who bottoms? I don't know. Really, at least half of the time, I prefer top!Tom. My enjoyment of a fic is not contingent on whether one character or the other gets dicked down. Of my top favorite fanfics that I can think of offhand, Tom doesn't even bottom in any of them.

That said—I am drawn to stories where Tom Riddle is in a central role, and nobody fixated on bottom!Harry could ever possibly deliver. So yeah please go ahead and block me. ಠ_ಠ

Also, the accusation that I "want engagement" is goofy

If I was driven by engagement, the fic would be straightforwardly on the Top Tom tag, feature a lot of smut, and probably have twice as many hits.

I don't write for engagement; of the 6 fics I have published, 2 are rated G and only half of them even have ship tags at all.

And regarding Lover's Spit specifically, it would absolutely spoil the story if I went on Tumblr rambling about how they're going to fuck. I have more respect for the lovely people who read the story as it is than random potential readers who feel they cannot engage with a story on the off chance their t/b preferences aren't met after 150K of non-smut content.

Yes, fixed shipping preferences can be sexist and homophobic

If your preferences are informed by your belief that Tom Riddle is "too powerful" to ever bottom (!!!) and "submit" to Harry, you're embarrassing and regressive.

You're tacitly admitting that women—that people without penises—are fixed in a state of submission; and you're also insinuating the same of gay men who prefer to bottom.

Sex is a lot of things - not just a power exchange. Sex, as I see it, is about intimacy, vulnerability, and expressing love. That is how I write it, and why I do not want to share "spoilers" about how sex will play out in my fic.

Ultimately this slander is just the product of entitlement

Though Lover's Spit has a lovely, inspiring, and engaged bevy of readers, it is by no means a popular fic. It's a wee little niche fic.

I can see no reason why someone would bother publicly slandering me except that they're just deeply entitled and butt-hurt that I'm not complying to their whims, even though I am a teensy weensy small-time fic writer with no following whatsoever. It's so batshit.

If fixed shipping matters to you, block writers who don't tag. Simple as that.

Anything you'd like to add my dear @k3uuu?

[onismdaydream]

tw: afab reader, fingering, sex in a public place (they don't get caught), pet names, not proofread

note: i asked what i should write the other day and @papersirens said suguru and then this happened so yeah :3

"look at that guy over by the bar."

suguru hums, you can feel the faint rumble of his chest on your back, and turns his gaze towards the direction you're facing. "the one in the red?"

"no, no, three people to the left of him. he's wearing that flashy chain. you see him?"

"what about him?" your boyfriend hooks his chin over your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach pulling you ever so closer.

"he just struck out with this one girl, must've said something real bad because she threw her drink at him. see how his shirt is wet?"

"mhm."

"well, now he's talking to that blonde girl and i'm pretty sure that she's friends with the first one because they came in together."

it's common, at this point, that whenever there's some sort of outing with your friend group, you and suguru find yourselves tucked away in the quietest corner you can find. you'd much rather people watch than quite possibly make a fool out of yourself and suguru didn't mind the change of pace it provides. nursing drinks and pointing out the interesting things people did was plenty entertaining in your opinion.

"and," you continue, grateful that the music isn't as loud over here and you don't have to strain your vocal cords to be heard. "i think he's about to blow it here, too."

almost as if on cue, the girl tosses the remainder of her drink at his face and storms off, leaving the man alone and rejected once again. he grabs some napkins from the bar counter, wiping at his face and grumbling, before he walks off towards the bathroom. you would feel bad for him, but you have a feeling that he deserved it.

"looks like you were right." suguru chuckles, his arms loosening around you and allowing him to run his hands along your sides slowly. you can practically hear the smirk that pulls at his lips.

"you should know by now that i often am."

"then tell me, angel," his voice drops, his head turning so his mouth ghosts along the shell of your ear. "you think people can see us?"

suguru's hands drift lower, one squeezing at the fat of your hip and the other skirting dangerously close to the edge of your dress. a shiver runs down your spine, anticipation coursing through your veins as his fingers grazes against your skin.

"suguru," you whisper, your own hands reaching out to rest on his. you don't stop him, don't pull him away, don't want him to pull away.

"i don't think they can." he answers for you, his hand slips under your hem and your legs spread for him on instinct. humming softly in approval, he presses a tender kiss to your jaw. "only way they'll know is if you make noise. but you can be quiet, right? be good for me?"

his fingers tease you, sliding up and down your slit through your underwear. you're already wet, the dampness soaking through the thin fabric and you'd be a lot more embarrassed if it didn't earn you that throaty groan from suguru.

"you like this, hm?" rubbing at your clit to draw a quiet moan out of you, he nips at your neck, a sharp pinch that makes you arch into his touch. "better be quiet, baby. don't wanna draw attention to us."

"don't," your breath hitches, his fingers sliding underneath the band of your panties, touching you. "don't tease, suguru."

he must take pity on you, on your desperate state, because the next moment, he's properly fingering you and your head falls back against him, mouth open as you gasp at the sensation. if anyone were to look over, one glance at your fucked out expression and they would know, but your corner is secluded enough. suguru wouldn't risk you getting caught — he didn't want anyone else to see you like this. this sight, your face scrunching in pleasure and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, was his and his alone to savor.

long and dexterous fingers prod at that spongy spot inside you, slick wetness coating them so there's no resistance. it's hard to stay composed when the heel of his palm grinds against your swollen clit. he can tell you're getting close, the little whines and the way you're clenching around him pointing towards your inevitable release.

"cum on my fingers, angel."

and you do. you would do anything he says, follow him everywhere and anywhere, so long as he gives the word.

his cock throbs in his pants, you can feel the hardness of his length against your body, but he doesn't pay any attention to it. his focus is on you.

"so pretty." he whispers, almost to himself as he admires you, your beauty that he could never tire of. he waits a moment, allowing you to regain yourself before pulling his fingers out. your slick and cum web between his digits, making them shine even in the low light.

suguru places them in his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, tongue swirling around to get every bit of your essence. you watch in awe and arousal, your core thrumming with another wave of desire.

"we're going home." suguru smoothes out your dress before pulling you with him. "gonna make you come on my tongue next."

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Singlemom!OC

Theme: Fluff, a little bit of angst.

N/A: To my dear Pedri's Girls who voted, it's finally here. I'm sorry for not posting it yesterday, but I ended up getting very tired and with some doubts. First about being a "reader" or OC, and I ended up choosing OC because I couldn't write without visualizing someone, and because while I was writing, the image of Hande Erçel came to my mind. Anyway, this is just an introduction, there will be three chapters and a bonus. I hope you like it, and that you fall in love with them as I did.

"I can't believe it, Fer. I can't believe it happened again. When I think everything is going to be fine, something like this happens," Pedri lamented. His brother was already upset with the situation.

"I know, brother, we will get through this, as we always do." Pedri ran his hands over his face. "I need to call mom, she's is worried." Pedri just agreed while his brother walked outside the box. At the same time he left, a little boy entered the private space. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed Pedri.

"You are crying?" The boy cautiously approached Pedri and then kneeled on the floor beside the player, his elbows resting on the sofa where Pedri was sitting. "My father says that men shouldn't cry, but my mother says that only real men cry."

Pedri laughs.

"Your mother is right. Are you alone here?" Pedri looked around looking for any adults, but it was just them. The little boy just nodded and then started looking for something in the pocket of the jacket he was wearing, and soon he was taking off his coat. Pedri noticed the name and number on it. "I liked the choice of shirt." The little boy looked at him, embarrassed.

"here" he finally takes out a handful of M&Ms from his pocket. "Mom and I always eat them when we are sad, and now that you are sad, you will feel better after eating them."

Pedri smiled at how adorable the little boy was and readily accepted the candy; he was too sad to think about his diet.

"Bye I have to go." He watched the little boy put on his jacket again, ready to leave.

"Hey, don't you want me to sign your shirt?"

The little boy looked at him cautiously and uncertainly, and Pedri could see that he was in an internal battle.

"My mother says I shouldn't bother the players"

"It's not a bother; you shared your sweets with me; we're friends now. The little boy's eyes opened so wide that Pedri was afraid they would jump out.

"Serious?" he asked uncertainly. Pedri just nodded and saw the boy's face light up.

"PEDRIIIIIII!!!" He gave an excited scream and ran to the player, hugging him. He was definitely controlling himself before, Pedro thought.

**********************************************

"Hey, do you plan on going to that nightclub again?" Pedri asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible while continuing to do the exercise that the physical trainer gave him.

"What? Are you asking this? I thought these things weren't for you. Ferran mocked.

"It's because he's trying to find the woman he spent the night with," Gavi says, receiving a deadly look from Pedri.

"What, am I lying? You looked at every photo that marked the club's location on social media."

"Seriously Gavira, if you don't shut up..."

Pedri threatens, making the others laugh.

"It seems that only you were affected by the night since you woke up alone in the hotel room" said Ter Stegen, the goalkeeper who had been listening to the entire conversation in silence until now. Pedri looked directly at Gavi, knowing he was responsible for telling the details.

"Seriously, man, I'll never tell you anything again."

"What? I was just trying to help. Knowing if one of them saw the woman you were with that night. If I hadn't seen her, I would have thought it was a hallucination in your head."

Pedri rolled his eyes at the younger man's mockery.

"I know you were upset that you woke up there alone. 

"I wasn't," Pedri said defensively. "It was not a big deal." He said with a shrug, preferring to remain silent while focusing on the strengthening exercises, that it was better to forget the subject, either because Gavi was irritating him or because he had a grain of truth.

Nightclubs were not a place he normally frequented; he always preferred to stay at home watching a series or movie, but he had made an exception that night as he was upset because of the injury and the nasty comments he received, like it was his fault. It ended up that he didn't regret going at all; after all, it led to the best night of his life with the woman he would meet at the bar, and thanks to not consuming alcohol, he had recorded in his mind every detail of that night and the woman.

He remembered the exact moment she entered the place; his eyes immediately stayed on her; her presence attracted him like a magnet; and her long hair fell all over her back and down to her waist. The red lipstick and the huge, sweet smile she had. He remembered her scent and the woman's sharp tongue as he approached, not giving a damn about who he was. He had etched the dimple in her cheek every time she laughed at something he said, and God, her laughter was like music to his ears. He remembered how she pressed her body against his while they were on the dance floor and how all that tension took them both to a hotel room that night. What a night!

"Dude, stop thinking about her while you are with us." Ferran's voice takes Pedri out of his thoughts. Pedri looked at him confused.

"Your cheeks give you away, man," said Gavi, who had a small smile on the corner of his face. Pedri turned to the mirror, noticing the color that appeared on his face.

"Shit", he mumbled, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

"Although you met her in a nightclub, maybe you should look in other places, like churches or registry offices." He looked even more confused at Ferran, who had an ironic smile on his face. "You know, considering your history with women who end up being married and everything."

"Seriously, I'm done with you guys." Pedri stood up, moving away from his companions, who were laughing at the situation.

**********************************************"" Fans like to feel close to players, so we can continue investing in content with them in pairs or in groups. We can record some kind of challenge with the boys who have the most friendships about how much they know each other. Fans love knowing these details." The woman said to the social media girl as they walked down the corridor to the meeting room, where the rest of the communication team would be.

"Mom, mom, mom!" She turned, looking at the little boy who was running towards her.

"Hey, honey, what's wrong? Everything is fine?" She bent down to the child's height, who seemed to be in a hurry to be somewhere. "I'll be at the gym with my friend," he said impatiently, about to run again.

"What a friend? There is no place for children there" she said worriedly, placing her hand on her son's head.

"Mom, pleeeaaaase," he said while pulling the woman's bag, looking for something.

"Axel, breathe. What are you looking for?" She asked when her child threw all the things inside her bag on the floor.

"The cards that Grandpa gave me to show my friend, I FOUND." he said excitedly, shaking the cards in his hand.

"Bye mom, I love you." She watched as the boy disappeared down the corridor without even looking back, which made her curious to know who this friend was, and she made a mental checklist to ask when they were leaving. She also added to talking with her son about running around Ciutat Esportiva, she had the opportunity to bring him to work, but she knew it was best not to abuse the luck, even though he was normally a quiet child, these days, he always had to be somewhere.

**********************************************

The sound of Xavi's whistle signaled the end of training. He thanked all of the players, greeting each as they dispersed across the field. Some were already returning to the dressing room, and I remained there along with a few other guys.

"3, 2, 1...." Gavi says. Pedri raise his eyebrows in confusion, looking at him.

"PEDRIIIIIIIIIIII" Rafinha and Ferran say in a thin voice, clearly imitating the little boy who ran onto the field in our direction.

"He took so long to come this time," Gavi says, laughing at the scene. The little boy opens his arms and throws himself at Pedri, who holds him carefully.

"Hey little guy." He put him on the floor, and held out his hand for him to hit.

"Are you ready to play yet?" he asks, raising his eyebrows hopefully and looking the player up and down. It was the question he asked every day since he started showing up at the end of training to visit him, showing all his anxiety about seeing his favorite player return to the field.

"I'm almost there; I'm back to training now, but I'll be ready soon." The child makes a pout.

"My God, he have the same habit of arching the eyebrows and the things you do with your lips. It's too much Pedri for me." Rafinha says, laughing as he walks away. He ruffles the child's hair, and only then does the little one seem to realize the presence of the others. And his cheeks turn red, and then he hides behind Pedri's leg, who bends down and hugs him.

"the red cheeks and all." Are you sure you haven't been messing around?" Gavi continues. Pedri rolls his eyes at his friend, throwing the bottle he was holding at the youngest.

"Hey little guy, there's no need to be ashamed of us; we're cooler than him." Ferran says as he is trying to get the child's attention, making him hides his face in Pedri neck. The number eight smiles mockingly at Ferran, proud of the child's far-from-discreet preference.

"Don't flatter yourself; you didn't see the number he's wearing." Fermin scoffs.

"It's very good taste," Gavi says. Pedri turns the little boy in front of him.

" Axel!!! This is treason," Pedri says indignantly, as he sees the little boy wearing Gavi's number.

"My grandfather chose today. Gavi it's his favorite" he says with a shrug.

" But I like him a lot too." Gavi smiles, convinced, at his friend.

"Of course you like; you're the same size, of course you'll feel affinity." Gavi's smile dies immediately, and he raises the middle finger to Pedri.

"haha, Look who's talking, Pedri."

"Don't you think it's strange that he's here every day? " Pedri asks curiously.

"He must be some employee kid," Fermin concludes. "At most, the brother of one of the teenagers who are outside waiting for photos, he is small, manages to pass the security guards with no problem" They laughed again.

The little boy moves away from the player and looks for something in his pocket, and Pedri already knew what it was; after all, that had become their routine since they started meeting more often, whether in the CE or in the boxes on match days. Axel takes a handful of M&Ms from his pocket to share with the player.

"Just a little this time. My mother is suspicious." His eyes widen at the boy.

"You said your mother gave it to you, Axel," Pedri asks worriedly.

"Well, sometimes she gives it to me. But she says I can't eat all the time."

The boys were trying not to laugh, especially now that the boy was more welcome with them, casually kicking the ball for them.

"Great example, Pedriiiiiii." Ferran scoffs; Pedri rolls his eyes; it wasn't his fault; well, in part yes, it was him who said to the child, "Your mother won't mind if it's just a little."

**********************************************Pedri was sitting with the other players in the press room of the arena where the Barcelona basketball team was playing. They were waiting for the club president to take a photo; after all, it was important for them to see the first-team players supporting the others. While he waited, Pedri looked at the candy store's website on his cell phone, looking for what Axel had told him so much about during the week, about a new type of M&Ms with different flavors that he was dying to try, but it was still out of stock. Occasionally he would look up from his cell phone to respond to something the other players were saying. Gavi was by his side, chatting about something that Pedri could no longer follow due to the rapid changes in subject that the youngest started.

"Hey, guys," Laporta says, entering the conference room. He greeted each of the players who were there, and the staff organized them for the photo. As always, the president would hold the ball, and everyone would be on hand to touch it, in the form of support. After the photo, they start a conversation with the president until the door is opened wide.

"Oh, sorry." I thought they were already finished. Pedri, who had his back to the door in a conversation with Araujo and João Félix, freezes; he would recognize that voice anywhere, and above all, he would recognize the perfume, which hits him like a punch in the stomach. He immediately caught Gavi's eyes, who seemed as surprised as he was.

" The game is about to start, and we need to take some photos of the boys for promotion."

"Of course, we're done here" the president says, laughing. Apart from Gavi, the other boys didn't seem to notice Pedri's reaction, as he finally found the courage to turn around to look at the woman, and God, he felt his breath catch in his lungs.

"Oh, do you already know the boys personally?" Laporta asked the woman who looked up from her cell phone, looking at the other people in the room, and as soon as her eyes fell on him, they tripled in size, but she was quick to hide her surprise.

"No, not yet" she said simply.

"Boys, this is Isa Harver; she is the club's new communications assistant." Laporta introduced them, and she extended her hand to greet each of them. When her hand stopped in front of Pedri, he immediately noticed the ring on the girl's finger.

"Fuck" He heard Gavi saying behind him with a certain humor in his voice. Pedri simply couldn't believe his luck.

******************************************

N/A: SOOOO, I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I revised this chapter a million times, but English is not my first language, so something must have slipped through. Let me know what you think. And for my Gavi's girls, I'm also preparing something for you."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! Is it possible for you to write something about Tomas with a very blushy s/o? Like they tend to blush or fluster easily and he pokes fun at them even though he's lowkey the same way.

This was…something that kinda went off request. (Is this OOC Smoke? idk you tell me.)

Tomas didn’t mean to take advantage of how easily you fluster but how could he not when you looked so cute with wide doe eyes that adamantly avoided making contact with his, whilst your hands reached up to cover your heated cheeks out of embarrassment, your voice pleading with him to stop his constant teasing. However You never made it easy for Tomas even in the slightest as he would always end up reaching a hand out to lift your head up by the chin so you were forced to look him in the eyes, using his other hand to remove your own from your face, just to add onto the teasing fun by saying; ‘are you flustered?’ Whilst his eyes engaged in every reaction you gift him.

He’d then gasps, ‘oh you are!’ He coos. ‘Dear gods and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore adorable, you, my beloved always end up proving me wrong like always.’ He’d finish whilst receiving a huge power trip from how you’d weakly try to push against his strong chest to create some distance between the two of you, only for him to cage you in his strong arms and hold you against it instead, smiling dopily underneath his mask, a side effect you’ve had on him for a long while now but he wouldn’t want it any other way. ‘Tomas. Stop.’ You’d whine, burying your head into his chest to hide away from him, feeling all sheepish and squirmy beneath his gaze, cheeks still uncomfortably warm from the previous bouts of teasing.

‘Sorry sweetheart but no can do, you’re reactions only encourage me into teasing you even more.’ Tomas said cheekily as he nuzzles his face against your head, tightening his grip on you slightly when he felt you attempt an break out, wanting to keep you caged to his chest forever if possible. ‘You honestly have no idea what you do to me my love but,’ Tomas then moved his head to be level with your ear, you didn’t need to see his mouth to know there was a mischievous smirk because you could feel it through the mask, plus the way his eyes would reflect that same mischief didn’t make matter better either; ‘I’m sure we can find a more intimate way that’ll spell it out loud and clear for everyone to hear just how bad the effect you have on me.’ You felt your whole body heat up at the insinuation as you then smacked Tomas lightly on the bicep.

‘Behave yourself, we’re in public.’ You hissed as you looked at him, conscientious of the possibility that someone, god forbid that someone be Bi-Han, Kuai Liang or even worse both of them, overhearing this and making their own assumptions. Tomas on the other hand couldn’t help but find some form of humour in your furrowed brows and pouty lips; to him, you looked like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum if he didn’t give you what you want. ‘I’m not the one who’s got their head in the gutter though am I?’ He retorts as your left once again huffing, you were staring to understand why he enjoyed poking fun at you from time to time, you fell into his traps so seamlessly that he didn’t have to do too much because you already did that for him and for that you condemn yourself.

‘It’s not my fault that you word certain phrases into making me think those types of things, and besides I’m very much aware of how…vocal you can be during our more intimate moments.’ You said with a suggestive smile, batting your eyes at him for added effect as it was you who watched as Tomas swallowed thickly and continued to watch as his eyes grew wide as your ears could pick up the distinct hitch in his breath, along with the way his hands gripped your waist tightly. It was entertaining in seeing how quickly Tomas went from cocky to flustered with a few purposely placed words strung together; When he didn’t responded after a while you reached your hands to hold his face, allowing for your thumbs to gently caresses the parts that his mask couldn’t quite cover.

‘What’s wrong Tomas, you seem a little speechless.’ You said with fake worry as you brought your face closer to his so he could see the smirk growing across your face. ‘Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?’ You added with a whisper, not bothering to hide your amusement at the sudden change of your dynamic as you the pulled yourself away from him and out of his grasp as you walked away, looking back to see him still frozen to the spot you’ve left him in, before rapidly blinking his eyes when they cast their gaze on you with a unfamiliar look, which resulted in your cheeks becoming warm once more but you managed to bypass it in order to give Tomas a warning for the future. ‘Two can play at this game my sweet and we can go at it all night if that’s what you wish.’ You finished with a wink.

[yurinaa-world]

Characters: Housewarden x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Housewarden With flirty S/o

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes, might be ooc

Notes: I am writing for twisted wonderland now!

𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈

Who knows how you both got together and how you started dating each other?

He cannot handle your comments at all. like how you say all that and not be embarrassed while he, on the other hand, is all red in the face while lecturing you not to use such words in the land of the queen of hearts.

In return, you tell him, "I don’t see any type of rule that stops me from complimenting the Queen's beauty. You grin ear to ear while he just goes silent. The boy was left speechless.

As you decide to push your luck more than you already have and grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, Ah, what have you done after awhile? He calmed down, but don’t think you're not going to get a lecture after all; he must set an example so you don't do it in public.

But did you listen? Of course you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but he never told you not to flirt in private, and when in private, you do so much more to tease him, something like giving him kisses all over his face or blowing in his ear; such simple things get him so riled up!

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇

He’ll definitely go along with what you're putting out; if you think you can fluster him, you can dream, but it’ll never happen even if you try your hardest.

But who knows if you don’t try? You did many things to see him get all red, but nothing... Nothing; he just returns the energy you gave him, tells you he’s tired, wraps his arms around you, and falls asleep—not the things you wanted out of him.

Well, if words won’t get you the reaction you wanted, then your actions might, so you start to kiss his hand or intertwine your hands and give him a direct kiss on the lips.

He just smirks and somehow makes you go red instead! Leona just laughs at your gaping mouth and your rose-coloured cheeks, but you’ll keep on trying! Since nothing is impossible!

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

Well, if he can deal with Floyd, then he can definitely deal with your flirtiness.

But once you saw his octopus form for the first time, you knew you had something. Well,  you of course asked him if you could see him in his octopus, and after a lot of convincing, he did!

Well, he was pretty increure about showing this side of himself; he looked so red, and you told him that there was no need for him to be embarrassed; he looked so cute. He told you not to stare, but how could you not?

Azul doesn’t believe you at all, but you really mean what you said; he looks cute! You ask him if you could possibly touch his tentacles; they look so soft and squishy.

𝒦𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓂 𝒜𝓁-𝒜𝓈𝒾𝓂

He’d be pretty chill with your flirting.

not really flirty back, but he doesn’t need to since he’s always making you break with his bright smile and how he calls you beautiful; he does gushes to Kalim about you and how you're so pretty and how lucky he was to get to date you, and Jamil just listens (Jamil's totally Kamil’s wingman).

When you kiss him, he’s on cloud nine; you can see a little blush on his cheeks. He wanted to repay the favor but wanted to make it special, so he took you a ride on his magic carpet and gave you a kiss, which surprised you but you liked it.

𝒱𝒾𝓁 𝒮𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓉

Of course he loves your compliments; now he doesn’t blame you for being so madly in love with him; he is the fairest.

He’ll take anything you throw at him, no matter how flirtatious, since he’s a celebrity, but he likes to see you get flustered instead since you look so cute when you get a taste of your medicine.

He’ll grab your chin with his thumb pressing on your lips (if that makes sense). How needy you are to want his attention so badly. He is so generous to do so, but don’t get too greedy.

𝐼𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹

You like SSR in a gacha game where odds are like 5% chance of winning, but he was able to get lucky in just one ten pull.

He can’t handle you; even the most lighthearted comment gets him on his knees and has his fiery blue hair turn pink, but when you tease about it, he’ll mutter about how you're wrong, and he would never be flustered by a normie!

He’ll forgive you if you say sorry, but do you stop? No, what's the point in that? So you keep on going, like distracting him from his games with kisses on his neck. He’s muttering with a bit of blush on his pale skin that you're distracting him, but you want to spend time with him, plus he can play his games anytime.

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒾𝒶

I see Malleus understanding your flirting and going along but also getting confused by some of the things you say since he’s been sheltered for a lot of his life (like the man doesn’t know how to use a phone).

How bold of you, child of man, to say things like this to him without any fear! Call yourself lucky since Sebek isn’t there to scream his head off about indecent behavior in THE Malleus Draconia.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[soullumii]

if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader

part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)

summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s

warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay

word count: 4k

joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)

a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end

i said we're in danger

sleeping with a friend

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You cant stop thinking about the kiss. 

The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?

It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols. 

He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?

No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.

But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules. 

There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.

“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”

Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.

So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:

No kissing.

Should be easy enough. 

You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now. 

You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.

This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting. 

“Howdy,” he says.

“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”

“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”

You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.

Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.

“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“

You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.

Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.

He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”

Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.

You should honestly just say something like:

I’m here for my underwear.

And you’re positive he’d say:

Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.

And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.

But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”

How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?

God damnit, you need to get your shit together. 

Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.

He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out. 

“You know me so well.”

He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”

You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”

“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”

Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”

“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?” 

“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?” 

You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”

“You know me so well.” 

His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.

His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—

“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.

You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.

But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.

Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.

He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”

The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”

“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”

“You know you have the good stuff.”

“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”

That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.

“So why d’ya need a drink?”

Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.

You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”

He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.

“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.

“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.

He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours. 

He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer. 

It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you. 

Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.

You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.

And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction. 

His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him. 

Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips. 

When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.

Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact. 

“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage. 

“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.

His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.

You’d let him drag you under a million times over. 

Your best friend.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly,  fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.

“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.

You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they’re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily. 

God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.

He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.

He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.

“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.

“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.” 

“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.

“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.” 

“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?” 

“I dunno? Maybe ask?”

“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”

“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.” 

He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”

He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free. 

And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.

This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him. 

“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh. 

You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room. 

His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.

It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.

He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.

“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”

He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”

“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”

He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”

“You like it when I’m mean.”

“Wanna see how much I like it?”

“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”

He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”

You just smile innocently at him.

Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.

“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”

It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.

“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.

“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”

A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.

He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously. 

“Joel,” you moan.

“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders. 

Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter. 

And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.

His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.

“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”

Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.

“H-holy shit—oh—“

He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”

Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything. 

“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.” 

It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours. 

Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.

“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.

“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”

You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“

“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.

Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later. 

The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth. 

Then, you remember.

You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”

“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.” 

It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.

“And my cock inside you ain’t?”

You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”

“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.

Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense. 

“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”

He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”

You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface. 

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.

But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.

You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.

He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You okay?”

Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“I’m good.” 

“You sure?”

He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” is all that he says. 

“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Joel.”

It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

part 3