#i feel like i'm gonna get heat for this ^^;;

[toxicanonymity]

zebra print (one shot), 18+

PAIRING: Joel x fem reader x Tommy

LENGTH: 5.7k words

SAME AU AS: Leopard Print | Cheetah Print

MASTERLISTS: Joel | Tommy | Both Together

SUMMARY: You run into the Miller Brothers in public, and after joel feels you up at a beachside bar, they consensually kidnap you.

CONTENT: 18+ exhibitionism, drugs, cockwarming, PIV, dirty talk, degradation, breeding kink, MFM, double penetration (double vaginal, and two-hole), possessive/brotherly bickering while inside you, cum inflation, magical lactation.

You were walking along the ocean in front of a beachside bar when someone catcalled. "Hey sweetheart,” Tommy lifted his chin with a smile. His hair was pulled back.

Joel turned around toward the beach and lowered his sunglasses. “Speak of the devil… Get the fuck over here.”

When you approached, Tommy checked you out  “Look at you, lookin’ all snatched.”

“Lookin' empty,” Joel corrected him with a chuckle. “Nah, you always look perfect, baby. C'mere.” He tapped his thigh for you to sit in his lap.

“We're just takin' a load of here for a minute…. Gonna go home and grill up our catch,” Joel said. "And you're comin’ with us.”

“Oh, I drove, I have my car here,” you said. 

“We'll bring ya back to get your car.”

"Okay," You agreed, hormones surging. 

“Good girl.” Joel's big hands wandered as soon as you were on his lap, caressing your thigh, then squeezing it... feeling your breasts as they talked. 

They had gone fishing, and they regaled you with tales of everything they caught, most of which they released, some of which was on ice in the back of their truck.

Joel slid his hand under your bathing suit top, shamelessly feeling you up the bar. He fed you a sweet potato fry, then wiped his hand on your thigh before stuffing his hand down your bottoms. “Mmm, there she is. C'mere.” He used his hand cupping your cunt to pull you against his hardening package.

Tommy went to close out their tab, and you were drenching your swimsuit bottoms with Joel's big hand cupping your heat and tickling your dripping hole. The waiter tried not to look. Joel's touch and praise had you woozy with hormones as memories came rushing back to your body. 

“You're okay, c'mere,” Joel said and pulled you back again. Your head leaned against his, and he sucked at your neck. “Don't worry, Tommy's gonna drive. I gotta spend some quality time in my girl.”

Walking to their truck with Joel’s arm around you felt like having a royal escort. He told you how much he missed you and squeezed the thick silhouette of his cock. “Fuck, if i dont get in that soon, I’m gonna lose it.” His pace quickened until he was opening the passenger door for himself. 

And before he sat, he tugged his swim trunks down to pull out his cock.

He spat on his tip and pumped it a couple of times, then held it with his left hand for you and extended his right hand for balance to help you step into the truck.

“How do you want me?” You asked, and he let out a low whistle.

“Lady's choice, as long as I'm balls deep in that pussy.” 

You faced the windshield.

“Chair position, I like it,” Joel said and gave your ass a little smack. He pulled down your swim trunks, and you braced your hands on the glovebox. While you were bent over, he fingered you from the back and teased your hole, making a wet sound as he smacked his finger against your entrance. 

“Oh yeah, she knows daddy's here,” he said. “Daddy's comin’, sugar.” He used both thumbs to spread your cheeks and your lips.

“Gimme a minute,” he said, and positioned you so he could bury his face in your ass. He tongued and lapped at your cunt, slid his tongue up, and teased your other hole.

When Tommy put the truck in reverse, Joel took his face out of your ass. “All right, sweetheart,” he held his cock and put an arm around you, with his free hand on your mound. He rubbed tip of his fat cock through the slick of your cunt and his saliva, then pushed it into you. He held your hips as you sank onto it with a moan. 

“Yeah, there she is,” Joel greeted your cunt. “Hell yeah…..She miss me?” 

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft chuckle, insides softly rearranging themselves around his girth. 

“Well, shit. You got my number. You shoulda said somethin’,” Joel said. 

Tommy chuckled. “That ain't her job, brother. You better take care of her without her havin’ to ask. Ain't that right, sweetheart?” 

“Mind your own business,” Joel said.

Tommy retorted, “Hey, that asshole is my business. I want to be allllll up in that business tonight.” 

“Yeah, we'll see about that,” Joel said, “keep runnin’ your mouth.”

Joel held his arm around you like a seatbelt, fondling your breasts, kissing the nape of your neck. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he said. “Now that we know what that pussy can do, I think about it all the damn time.”

Stuffed with Joel's cock on his lap: it was everything you'd been wanting. Everything you needed. So many times you'd thought about them… about how nasty and degrading they were…. about them stuffing you full….about fucking Joel in the parking lot…. and on the beach…. and both their cocks crammed in your poor little hole….. you thought about the way you blew up last time. For days, you probably could have passed as pregnant. And each time a little bit of their cum seeped out, part of you was a little sad.

After a few days, you had gotten in the habit of having your hand on your belly so often that you found your hand going there and felt surprised to find nothing. 

God, you want him to cum and fill you up again, stretch your limits....

For the time being, you were content to sit on his cock in the car. He loosened your bathing suit top so that it was floating futilely above his hands as he played with your tits. 

“Fuck, you're so damn hot, baby….. hottest chick on the beach, swear to god….”

“Sure is,” Tommy added.

“You take a pregnancy test?” Joel asked. 

“No, but i got my period,” you told him.

“Oh, we got work to do….” Joel said. “One of these days, it'll take…. one of these days, and then i'll bring you home with us. And you don't gotta worry about nothin’ but carryin’my baby.

God damn, I want that bad.” He slid his hand down into your swimsuit bottoms and fondled your clit.

His hips rocked, slow and gentle. “Ain't gonna blow my load,” he said. “Wanna see how big it can be if I wait…..Tryin’ to figure out if ya get more from a few loads or one big one.”

Tommy piped in, “He hadn't come in a few days. He was moanin’ and groanin’ about the mornin’ wood…. Wouldn't touch it, though. Said he was savin’ it for you.”

Your heart swelled.  

“That's why I ain't fuckin’ ya right now,” Joel said. “Just need ya to sit pretty on me as long as we can….. But I figure it ain't cheatin’if I make *you* come, right? I think that's allowed, ain't it?”

“Course it is,” Tommy said. “Just try not to blow your load when she does.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed. “Just give me a little squeeze, darlin’, when ya come. Just let that pussy hug me, gimme little massage…. That's all I need. Let her hug him with that tight little pussy before we stretch it out again.”

Joel was playing with your clit, and nuzzling your neck, and with his cock secure in your cunt; you began to succumb to the tension swelling in your gut. 

“God, it's hard, Joel,” you marveled at his cock.  

“Oh, baby I know…. Just wanna fill you the fuck up, much as you can take,” he says, “fuck, I want you so bad, baby….. want everyone to see what we do together…. want everyone to see you swole up with my cum, swole up with my baby.”

Tommy took this literally and rolled down the window, making your face tingle at the exposure. 

You were pretty sure this wasn't legal, but you didn't say anything. What was the worst that could happen? 

“We're good,” Tommy said. “I was in the Rangers with the police chief. Saved his life.”

“Nice work,” you replied, bringing a glint of pride to his eyes. He didn't always feel good about his Army days, but right now, it was paying off. 

“How's it feelin’, sugar?” Tommy asked. 

“Uggg, so good,” you answered. “This cock is so big and hard. Packs me just right.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Joel said, breathing a little heavier, rubbing your clit. “That's what ya need, baby. Packed tight, full of cock, full of cum… That's how it should be.”

At a red light, they rolled to a stop, and a truck next to you inched forward. A man was staring. He was old enough to be the Miller brothers’ father. A thought that made your tits feel like they were floating with pleasure. 

Joel removed his right hand from between your legs and used your slippery arousal to massage your nipple right in clear view of the passenger window. You moaned with your head back and Joel said, “Fuck yeah,” meanwhile sliding his left hand between your legs - he knew how bad you needed it. Never wanted to leave you unattended. 

The man in the next truck, the man you imagined as Grandpa Miller, undid his belt and his hand began to move on his lap. He kept rhythm with the way you moved with Joel's touch….

Your spine arched as Joel touched you, and his lips grazed your ear, and his hips just barely moved under you. “Oh, fuck,” Joel moaned, rubbing your clit and circling your nipple. You're gonna come for me, baby. “Gonna give this big cock a little hug. Come on.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Come on, sugar… come for daddy… you know you wanna…”

You closed your eyes and let go, marveling at the power of the pleasure. Your legs trembled while your walls convulsed on his cock. Your thigh muscles gave out under the pleasure and the dead weight sank you a smidgen further down, over-filling you with his length

“Oh, FUCK,” you gasped.

“Attagirl, yeah,” Joel said, “Oh, goddammit,” he pulled you hard against his chest, one hand grasping your breast.

You regained enough control to adjust your hips and relieve the pressure of his tip against the door to your womb.

Joel sucked in air through his teeth, and took a long, controlled breath. 

“You good, Man?” Tommy asked with a smile in his voice, and lifted his hips out of the seat, drawing your eyes to Tommy's bulging swim trunks as he fetched something out of his pocket. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Joel cursed. Ain't gonna do it,” he said. He took a deep breath and held it.

Tommy quickly lit a joint and handed it to Joel. Joel took a puff. His dick twitched faintly, but didn't unleash the typical blast of warmth.  A slight dribble was felt in your depths, but he'd managed not to full-on explode. 

He relaxed back against the seat and caressed your cheek, then released the smoke from his mouth in a long sigh. Indirectly, you breathed some of it in. 

“Woo!” Joel exclaimed. “Still in business….. Ohhhh, that was good, sugar…. Fuck, you feel good… really feel like heaven, baby. MMM,”

He slapped the center arm rest for emphasis. “Fuck!” He took a deep breath and let it out with another sigh. “Never felt a pussy like it…. Tight and soft…”

“Hungry too,” Tommy added. “Mmm…. Hey sugar, you like that last time? Like havin’ two cocks stuffed up in ya?”

“That was wild,” you replied. "Nothing like it."

Tommy asked, “Which ya like better? One in the back or both in that hungry pussy?” 

“I don't know,” you laughed and asked, “What are you into, Tommy?” 

“Well, I gotta say, the ass has an edge ‘cause I don't gotta worry ‘bout comin’ inside and havin’ Joel lose his shit,” he playfully hit Joel's shoulder with the back of his hand, then took the joint from him. “But it felt really fuckin’ good bein’ crammed in that pussy together.” Tommy took a hit, then looked at the joint. 

“Drive,” Joel commanded, and Tommy muttered, “Oh, shit,” letting the smoke out of his mouth as he noticed the green light. ‘Grandpa Miller’ had already driven away with one hand out his window, wiping something on the side of his car.  

Tommy rolled your window up halfway. Then Joel took the joint back from him and brought it to your lips. You took a tiny puff. 

"Aww," Tommy cooed.

Joel pinched out the joint and handed it back. Tommy tucked it behind his ear.

“Hey baby?” Joel said, "What if we were parked just like this, and some guy came up and asked if he could feel your tits, just for a second?”

“What would I do?” You asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Guess I'd say I'm busy,” you answered. I'd say he's gotta get in line.”

The three of you laughed, and you added, “oh my gosh,” with a chuckle. 

“And what if it was alright with me?” Joel asked. “Hmm?” He squeezed both your breasts and at a hornier pitch, asked, “What if it turned me on?” 

“Just for some guy to feel my tits? That's it?”You asked. 

“Yeah,” Joel confirmed, “Just to cop a feel.” 

“Fine, I guess,” you agreed. 

Joel groaned into your hair then kissed behind your ear and whispered, “That's my girl.” He kept the fantasy going: “Fuck yeah. He can….he can do it while you’re sittin’ right on this dick… and I'll feel how much ya like it or not.”

“What does this guy look like?” You teasingly asked. 

“Hot,” Tommy answered. “Hot, with a big cock….So you'd do it?”  

“Sure,” you answered. “Hot with a big cock? No brainer.”

“That's what I'm talkin’ ‘bout,” Joel’s cock twitched inside you. “Hell yeah, baby…. Oh, God.”

He was about to bite his knuckle but bit your shoulder instead. 

----

When you arrived at their residence, it was a lot nicer than you expected. It was gated, sprawling, with a pool. And that was exactly where you were headed. A pool with a couple of cabanas, cushions, pillows, nice grills. 

“Is this like….. a country club?” you asked. 

“Nah, this is *our* house, baby. The Miller Den…”

“Oh, wow… your business must be doing great.”

“What’d I tell ya, pumpkin? Don't gotta worry ‘bout nothin’.”

Tommy parked the truck and cracked the windows. Joel fumbled with the door handle and Tommy said “I got it,” then jogged around to the passenger door and opened it.  

“C’mere, sugar,” Tommy murmured and held your hand. Joel angled his hips toward the door and lifted, giving you a boost. Then his cock slid out of you as Tommy eased you into his own big arms. 

“Mm,” Tommy hummed into your hair as he helped you out of the truck, facing him. He set you on your own two feet, but kept his strong arms around you until he knew you were okay to stand. “You good?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you sighed.

Joel made you your favorite drink at their outdoor bar and you enjoyed it in the pool while Tommy unloaded the truck and cleaned the fish. 

After dinner and dessert, Joel laid back under the cabana and gave his massive erection a squeeze through his shorts before pulling them off and letting his cock stand proud and free. You pulled your bottoms off, too. “Alright, c’mere,” he beckoned you into straddling him. You held his shaft near the base to run his tip through your slick, then fit him for entry and sank down. His hands on your hips helped you slide right onto his cock. “Ohh God,” he sighed, watching his length swallowed to the hilt. “Tommy, I dunno how much longer I can go like this,” he admitted. 

“You got this, Joel. You got this,” Tommy encouraged him.

“Alright,” Joel agreed, “maybe if we, uh, talk or somethin’.” 

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Hey, the surf's supposed to be great next week…” 

They talked about the weather, movies, shows, places they’d like to visit–they included you in that part. Tommy sat back on a neighboring mattress under the same cabana, facing the same direction as Joel with a front row seat of you speared on his brother’s big dick. The three of you talked casually, and Tommy was looking around, not totally fixed on the beautiful sight before him. He adjusted himself a couple of times. He muttered “damn,” when you stretched and yawned. But as time went on, his eyes had trouble pulling away from your body, and his hands had trouble pulling away from his crotch. And you had trouble not watching him be driven crazy with arousal. The flow of conversation began to falter with the distraction. 

Tommy asked, “How ‘bout about a little DP, darlin’? Whatcha think, Joel?” 

“Fuck,” Joel said, “That’ll do me in… that what ya want, baby?”

You replied, “Just want your cum.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna get it, sugar…”

You yawned and said, “good,” with your eyes half closed. 

Joel asked, “Think ya can fall asleep like this, baby?”

“Yeah, I'm already about to.”

“How ‘bout we take a little nap…give my balls a little more time to load up. Hm?”

You yawned again, “yeah,” and tucked your head into his neck. 

“Good girl,” Joel said, then asked Tommy to get him another beer. 

You fell asleep on Joel's cock with not a care in the world. He caressed your head and your back, and got Tommy to drape your dark zebra print sarong over the two of you as a light, soft blanket. You hummed in contentment, and soon you were both asleep. 

As the two of you dozed and the sun finished setting, Tommy went in to retrieve some lube, and he carefully positioned a chair facing the cabana about 10 meters away. He pulled down his swim trunks, spread his thighs, and jacked off as quietly as he could. When he imagined you packed with both their cocks, goosebumps prickled his forearms. “Fuck,” he whispered. You were so perfect. He dared to imagine himself balls deep in your cunt, unleashing a massive load, and, “oh, shit–ohh,” the split-second forbidden fantasy made him bust sooner than he meant to.

When you woke up, your hips were already moving, and so were Joel's. You were grinding against him, about to come, and in sync with your rhythm, he was thrusting up into you, grunting and moaning. 

“Ohh, fuck,” he cursed, half awake. “Oh, god,” his voice was weak. 

He shuddered and slammed his hips upward, then his dick twitched, his fingers dug into your ass, and he pulled you down. Grinding upward with his cock seated deep inside, he gave you his mega load, one massive throb at a time.

Your orgasm overtook you, and your convulsions mixed with his, milking his cock even better. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel panted, “Oh, fuck yeah…. Goddamn, baby.”

Thick ropes of silk shot into your womb, one after another.

Each one seemed to last two seconds, with not even a second in between. Nearly a continuous fountain. 

“Jesus,” you cursed. “Ugh–Mmm.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, still not empty. “Fill you up real good…mm. Sit up for me, darlin’.”

You sat up and held your breasts. His face was wrecked and pink. His neck vein bulged. The chain around his neck pooled between his collarbone and throat. His mouth hung half open as he watched your lower abdomen. You were fuller and fuller. 

“Oh, goddammit,” he grumbled, once his ropes lost volume. By then they were closer to typical volume for a man whose orgasm just started.  

You put a hand on your belly, looked down, and moaned at the swelling. 

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Fuck, you're goddamn perfect.” His hips slowed once he was finally drained. 

You were left bloated with his titan load, both hands on your tummy, pressing your fingers slightly into your skin, watching your belly move just slightly with the pressure. It felt wild, familiar, and remarkably arousing.

“God damn, you're hot,” he said with you still seated on his cock. He caressed your belly and said, “We got more work to do, but fuck, you look good, baby.” He admired you with his own skin glowing and reminded you, “You’re here all night.”

“More work to dol?” Tommy asked. 

“Ain't as much cum this time, but look at this pretty girl….” 

“It's still a big fuckin’ load, man,” Tommy said.

Joel got his phone and said, “yeah, but…” as he pulled up the picture of you from last time after the beach tent. He looked back and forth between you and his phone. “Look how much bigger she is here,” he showed Tommy.

Tommy speculated, “Maybe it's ‘cause she had both of us.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Joel acknowledged.

“You wanna find out?” Tommy asked, rubbing his cock over his swim trunks. 

Joel asked you, “Whatcha think, baby?” 

“Sure, If it turns you on.” Your reply was cool, but Tommy clocked the look in your eye and nodded, “Yeah, she wants it.” 

Tommy dropped his shorts, and Joel teased, “just like that.” 

“Oh yeah,” Tommy chuckled as he slathered his erection with lube. 

Tommy got behind you, straddling Joel's knees on the cabana mattress. He placed both hands on your ass cheeks and kissed your asshole, then murmured, “There she is. There’s my sweet little hole…. Nice and tight. Could never fit two dicks in here,” he chuckled. “Sure am glad your pussy can take it. Didn't hurt ya, did we?” 

“No,” you answered. 

Tommy asked, “What’s your cock think, Joel? She recovered from last time?”

“Oh yeah,” Joel said. 

Tommy pressed his hard, wet cock against your ass and asked, “Wanna try that again before I take your ass?” 

The question made you spasm on Joel's cock. 

“Pussy says yes,” Joel chuckled. “C'mere, baby.” 

You leaned forward to give Tommy access.

Tommy slathered his fingers in lube and wedged them in above Joel's cock. “Shit, man. You're still that hard?” 

“I am now,” Joel said. “Mm.” 

Tommy added a little more lube, pumped his cock, and said, “Alright now.” He used his finger and thumb to help squeeze his tip into your pussy, right on top of Joel's cock.

The familiar stretch burned in a way you could never replicate on your own. 

“Woo,” Tommy said, “Look at her take. Shit, you were born to take two cocks, baby…” 

He pushed in bit by bit, and fuck, it was such a good burn. It faded faster than you wanted it to, then came back as Tommy pushed further. He coaxed you, “Yeah, nice and open, come on….. Relax, honey…. Breathe for me… know you can take a little more of this dick… You can take us, sweetheart.”

Joel was breathing heavily, holding your thighs. 

You took a deep breath, then when you exhaled, Tommy shoved his cock in. 

“Oh, god damn,” he cursed, and Joel moaned under him.” Fuck, fuck,” Tommy said. 

“When's the last time you came?” Joel asked him. “You jack off this mornin’?” 

“No,” Tommy said. “The more you talked about holdin’ off….”

“God damn it, Tommy,” Joel said. “I swear to God, if you come.” 

“I know,” Tommy said and took a deep breath then let it out with a sigh. “I won't. I got my own hole to fill up…. and I'm gonna do it good.” Tommy rocked his hips, massaging your walls and Joel's cock with each little thrust. “Good girl,” he praised you.

“Yeah, atta girl,” Joel said.

Tommy marveled “What a woman. God damn, Joel,” then moaned, “Oh, God.” 

Joel observed, “You got that look on your face, man…”

“Fuck, alright,” Tommy said, then squirted lube on his thumb to work your ass open. He took a deep, calming breath, and pulled his dick out of your packed cunt, or else the way your ass clenched around his digit might have made him cum. 

His broad tip pushed into your asshole, then the rest of his cock slid in. “Yeah,” Tommy breathed. “Good lord.” 

“Doin’ good, baby?” Joel asked, and it felt like you might overheat. 

“H-Hot,” you answered with a little shudder. Your nipples poked into Tommy's palms, making him moan and squeeze your tits. 

Joel grabbed his cold beer and sat up to lift the bottle to your lips. He poured you a sip and you swallowed, with some of it dribbling down your face.

Tommy asked Joel, “How many ropes ya think I got?” then, with his hands on your bloated middle, “Shit, how many ropes is this?”  

“Fuck, I forgot to count,” Joel replied. “I reckon nine or ten.”

“Big ones,” you added. 

“Oh, she likes the big ones,” Tommy chuckled, then pulled his hips back. After pushing his shaft fully I'm again, he said, “Damn, she can really take it in the ass. Joel, you ever fuck her ass yet?”

“Nah,” Joel answered. "Got my hole right here."

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Too busy tryin’ to get her pregnant, huh?”

“Yeah, I ain't wastin’ a drop,” Joel said, then asked, “How's it feel? Nice an’ tight?”  

“Fuck yeah,” Tommy said. “Tight but easy. She’s a sweet little hole, don't fight back.” 

You pushed your rear back against Tommy and he marveled, “Fuck, she swallowed it right up. Good girl.”

“Yeah, she's a good girl,” Joel agreed. 

Their cocks were separated only by your thin, stretched wall. Joel's hips rolled under you, and Tommy fucked you nice and slow. “ooh-wee.” 

Stuffed in both holes–something you’d imagined every day since that time on the beach, never really able to conjure the feeling, even using your biggest dildo while wearing your biggest butt plug. You'd made yourself cum that way, but it was nothing like being between these brothers. Their hands all over you. Their grunts and moans, praise and encouragement. Their sturdy bodies. Their warm, throbbing cocks, rigid and massive. Their spongy, pliant heads, engorged by their desire for *you*. 

“God damn, I could get used to this,” Tommy gave your ass a little slap. 

“Are you holdin’ out?”Joel asked after a minute, eager to see you full of more cum. 

“Chill, man,” Tommy answered. “Gimme a minute. Just enjoy it, man.” Tommy squeezed your hips and murmured, “He just wants to see ya all swollen….

But I'm in it for this…” He brought his face closer and whispered, “Love the way ya feel, baby.” 

“Watch it,” Joel cautioned him with a thrust to remind him you whose girl you were. 

“Mmm” you locked your eyes with Joel's and let your tits down to graze his chest. 

“C'mere,” Joel whispered and pulled your face to his. He kissed you deep and his cock thickened in your cunt. 

Tommy sighed and gripped your hips with his big hands.

Joel was at full mast and began to rock his hips with more power. His lips broke from yours with a moan. 

“Goddamn,” Tommy muttered, barely able to contain himself. 

“Feel good?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah,” you answered.

“What's it feel like?”

“Like I'm just two holes.” Your pussy quivered at your own words.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel said.

“Yeah, like I'm just two holes, stuffed full... like, you're just gonna keep packing and packing me.”

“God damn right,” Joel agreed.

“Yeah, that's right,” Tommy chimed in. 

“Feels like I can't fit anything else in my body…. like if I drank more than a sip, I'd get heartburn.”

“How your tits feel, baby?” Joel asked. 

“Tender, swollen.” 

“God damn,” Joel said. “Perfect, ain't it? This whole thing we got goin’ on….” He moved his hips more gently, and his breath was becoming more labored with pleasure. “This time…. I want ya to send a selfie every day. You got that? One a day, at least, so I can see how you're doin’.” 

“Okay,” you agreed.

“And I wanna see too,” Tommy added. 

“You wanna see too?” Joel asked. “I don't think so, man.”

“I ain't even blown my load yet,” Tommy reminded Joel. “If ya want me to stuff her with it, you better let me see too.”

“You serious?” Joel asked, nostrils flaring as he glared behind you at his brother.

“What's the big deal?” Tommy asked. 

“She's mine is the big deal,” Joel said. “And that oughta mean somethin’.”

“You're the only one who gets to cum in her cunt,” Tommy reminded him. 

“Watch your step or both holes are mine,” Joel warned. It was becoming heated between them. 

“Yeah…. maybe, maybe you're right,” Tommy said, “She's your girl, I shouldn't be filling her with my cum… Sorry, sugar.” He began to withdraw his cock, and just as the crown of his tip hitched on your tight ring of muscle, Joel protested, “Don't let her down.” 

Tommy repeated, “Sorry, sweetheart. You heard him… you're his.”

“Goddamn right, she's mine,” Joel said.

Tommy argued, “What's a goddamn picture gotta do with bein’ yours, huh? If it's my cum, too, I wanna see how she carries it…. I ain't trying to steal your girl, man.”

Tommy was just sitting there with the tip of his cock in your ass, not moving his hips as he argued with Joel. You were moving a little with the motion of Joel's hips under you, and your ass was slightly lifting Tommy's cock in a joystick motion each time. 

“Alright, how's this,” Joel offered. “We can FaceTime her when we're together.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy agreed, then asked you, “Whatcha think about that, sugar?” 

“Sure,” you agreed. 

“But I want the pictures too,” Joel said.

“okay, okay,” you agreed and slightly pushed back on Tommy, moving Joel's cock.

“Ooh-wee,” Tommy smiled. “Fuck, she hungry.” He slid all the way into you with a moan.

“God, I love the way it looks on you,” Joel gushed. “The way what looks?” You asked.

“Bein’ stuffed with our cocks and cum….. love the way your face looks, the way your body looks. God damn perfect.” Joel's hips began to roll with more power, fucking you softly from the bottom as Tommy filled your ass with his cock.

“Alright,” Tommy said, “I'll give ya what ya want, but you gotta tell me what ya want, sugar.” 

“Fill me up,” you pleaded, “Come in me. Come in my ass.”

“Oh fuck,” Tommy moaned, and with a few sharp thrusts, his balls began to unload. His cock twitched in your ass. He held your hips and groaned, turning into a delirious chuckle. “Oh yeah,” he said. 

Joel counted. “Four. Five.”

“Ugh,” Tommy moaned. 

“Six.”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy's hips came to a rest flush against your ass as he dumped the rest of his load. “Seven,” he moaned. 

Your lower body tightened and you began to come, lightheaded from pleasure.

“Yeah, let go,” Joel said. “So perfect,” he encouraged you. “God, I love that face. Fuck.”

You grinded into Joel's pubic bone as your climax throbbed through your clit, radiated through your core and ass, making pleasure possess your whole body.

“Oh God,” you moaned, feeling the pressure of your belly against Joel's lower abdomen. Joel raised his hands to rest on your sides, with the heels of his palms feeling your belly.

“Hell yeah.” And then, with an upward punch of his hips, he began to come again. His cock twitched, and he groaned. He emptied his seed so deep inside you.

“God Almighty,” Tommy said, overstimulated by your trembling cunt and Joel's throbbing cock through your thin membrane.

Joel thrust low and smooth and slid his hands to feel your belly more. The pressure increased in your gut with each rope, and it stretched your skin. Heavy and swollen, you had to imagine it was what pregnancy felt like. 

The pressure became too much, and you had to start sitting up more.

Joel's eyes poured over you in delight. “Perfect,” he repeated. “Gorgeous.” And with his eyes on your tits, you looked down to see how swollen they were. Tommy reached around and held your heavy breasts as Joel finished coming. Tommy massaged your breasts, and the slightest bit of warm milk squirted right at Joel and hit his hairline. 

“Oh, fuck,” Joel sat more upright, drooling for a taste. Your belly pushed into his stomach as Tommy fed him your swollen tit. Joel latched on and sucked what milk he could out out of you. His cock twitched again. 

His lips broke away to marvel, “Jesus… I don't wanna suck ya dry… Wanna enjoy the view for a few hours.” 

But for the sake of balance, he took a few seconds to suckle at your other breast. When he let your sensitive nipple out of his mouth, some drops dribbled down onto the curve of your belly. 

“God, I'm wrecked,” he admitted. “Shit… feel like I'm gonna leave my whole cock in your cunt,” he laughed. “I know that's what she wants, huh?”

“How are we gonna do this,” Tommy asked. 

“Uhh,” Joel thought, “Go ahead and pull out, lay her down, put her feet up for a while. Yeah, get some pillows”

Tommy pulled out and got a pillow from the neighboring mattress, then went to gather more from another cabana. 

You were seated on Joel's cock, and he had his arms around you when he leaned forward and said, “Alright baby, I'm gonna lay ya down.” He gently lowered you into lying on your back, then put you in a mating press. “Good girl, perfect angel.”

When he was satisfied with the amount of pillows Tommy brought back, Joel eased himself out of you and stacked pillows under your knees. 

“How much was it leakin’ last time?” Joel asked. 

“A little,” you said.

“But when I saw you at the store later, you were still pumped full,” Joel recalled.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Didn't really shrink for a day or two.”

“Alright. Good….. I’m so proud of you,” Joel said. “You did real good, sugar,” Tommy added.

“Such a good girl,” Joel brushed hair out of your face. “Yeah, that's my good girl.”

Leopard Print fam: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @flawssy-227 @tateypots @selfproclaimed-moviecritic @archive-of-ink @mysterialee @professionalpromqueen @greensabereyesforcevictim @umnitsa @fandomunite2107

Thank you for reading 🖤🖤🖤 if you enjoyed it plz let me know!

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Needy | Thunderbolts*!Bucky x Female Reader| Oneshot 1.1k

Bucky needs to leave for a mission, but you need him back between your legs. Maybe there's time for both?

Warnings: 18+ for adult content! P in v, unprotected sex, little bit of exibitionism kink, creampie, armour kink/hero worship if you squint. Hint of Thunderbolts spoilers, if you know you know.

HBS Week 3 -: “Not now!” | [Heat/Rut | Rushed Sex | Exhibitionism]

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Hot Bucky Summer | Bucky Barnes

"Babydoll, I've got to go." Bucky bent down to put his combat boots on, pulling the laces tight and tucking them in the top, no time for neat army knots. It gave you the perfect view of his shoulders though, rounded by muscle and trapped beneath his tight t-shirt.

You bit your lip.

"But Bucky," you pouted, "please, just quickly, I'm gonna miss you so so much." You dragged each syllable.

"God, don't do that face at me — or that." He gestured to where you lay on your bed, sprawled over the sheets biting the end of your finger as you spread your bare legs slowly.

"Why?" You asked, innocently, batting your lashes and earning yourself a growl of disapproval. God that growl did things to you, made your heart beat faster in your chest (between your legs).

"You know damn well why, I have to go." He said, shrugging his leather jacket on and checking each of his holsters in turn, knives at the small of his back, guns in his chest holster and at his thigh, a few bits of new tech stored alongside his fingerless gloves in his pockets. Bucky brushed his long hair back from his face, one hand on his hip as he surveyed the top of the dresser as if a rouge dagger may have escaped him.

"You've got a few minutes," you let your hand trail down your chest, fingers spreading over your wet folds and parting them so Bucky could see your sticky arousal.

"If I get back in that bed I want more than a few minutes." He allowed himself a smirk, winking before checking his watch and his earpiece.

"Oh, well, if it's the bed that's the problem..." You happily bounced up from the bed and jumped at him. Instinctively Bucky opened his arms, lifting you under your thighs so you could wrap yourself around him.

"You're making this so hard." He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder and kissing your neck.

"Ohhh, I hope so," you giggled back, squirming enough that you could rub yourself against the rough contours of his tactical gear. "Do you know how sexy you look like this, all scary and mean with all your weapons. Makes me just wanna —" you didn't finish your sentence, closing your eyes and moaning instead.

"Fuck — " Bucky whispered into your neck, already relishing and regretting his next actions.

"That's the plan big guy —" you rubbed your hands over his shoulders and down his pecs where his skin tight t-shirt moulded to every contour. "God damn it just look at you." You pressed your fingers into the muscle, desperate to feel his body without anything in the way.

Bucky slipped his metal fingers between you, pushing his tactical belt up and his zipper down, just enough to free his cock from the confines of his underwear.

"Yes — yes — yes—" You were squirming so hard he could barely get enough purchase to push inside of you, but then he was in, helping to guide you down his hard length at an agonisingly slow pace. "Oh — fuck — Bucky you fuck me so good, baby, thank you." You babbled incoherently, happy enough just to have him back between your legs. Wrapped around him you could feel every inch of his cock, his hard body, the hilts of his knives cold against your calves, the guns that bumped your knees when you moved. "I fucking love you, Bucky Barnes, so fucking sexy and — and — ugh — you're my hero —" you tried to move in his grasp, a slow up and down thrust.

"Okay, Babydoll, no messing about." He started a quick pace, keeping his fingers between you to rub at your clit, driving you quickly towards release with relentless precision. His vibranium thumb was cool, the perfect contrast to the burning heat you felt pumping through your body.

KNOCK

"Hey — Bucky, I think everyone's going." Bob's soft voice floated through the door.

"Just a minute." Bucky clenched his jaw and focused his gaze on you,piercing and perfect. You clenched around him, having Bucky's full attention was always delicious but knowing he was needed elsewhere, and he'd chosen you, was the cherry on the cake.

"Don't go, baby."

KNOCK KNOCK

"Bucky, hurry up I don't want to have to sit next to John on the transport."

Ava called, her boots already echoing down the hall along with John's grumbling.

"Buh — Buh —" You keened against him, body flush at both Bucky's ministrations and the thought that the entire team were just on the other side of the door.

Bucky pushed you up against the wall, half holding you up so he could speed up his pace and you pressed your face into his leather jacket, scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders and neck where his hair had grown longer.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Bucky, it is time for us to go now, let's go."

"FUCK OFF." Bucky shouted, his voice mingling with the sound of Yelena's chuckling.

He pushed you higher, holding you open while he fucked up into you. Helpless you gasped, letting your mouth fall open as you watched him chase your body towards release.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Mr Winterrrr, we must go, save the day time, let us hurry to glory!"

Bucky moved again, tipping you back on the bed, your legs up over his shoulders, he bent down and kissed you, messy and deep, "you gotta cum now, Babydoll, I'm not kidding - I've gotta go."

"Bucky! Tell me to cum again — oh my god — make me cum!" You twitched around him, so close.

"Cum, now, Babydoll, cum on my cock right now." He used that low, gravelly tone again and your couldn't control yourself any longer.

You screamed your release, clenching around him as he throbbed between your legs and you grinned at the feel of your combined release slipping out between you.

Bucky panted, hard, and pinched your cheeks between his vibranium fingers, "god I love you, I'll be back soon." He kissed you quickly, stuffing himself back into his combat trousers and heading for the door.

"Love you too, Bucky-baby, be back soon!" You stood at the door of your room, wrapped in just the sheet from your bed, and waved at him as he half-jogged backwards towards the others, eyes still on you.

"Hey, Barnes, what's that on your trousers." John pointed at a drying white smear of your arousal, stark on the matt black of the fabric.

"Not now, John, we've got a mission." Bucky slapped him on the back and strode up to the waiting helicopter.

[maebelmelee]

Been thinking about being Dutchs woman, but Arthur can't keep his eyes off you.

JUST IMAGINE the tension between y'all, halfway hidden between camp and the river after a fight with Dutch and Arthur finds you, wants to help you relieve your stress...

I'm in an insufferable amount of physical pain right now HOWEVER I aim to please, so here's this super steamy lil thing for you xx

content is below the cut!

maybe it was the way arthur looked at you when dutch wasn’t watching — that tight jaw, those hungry eyes. maybe it was the night you screamed at dutch, slammed a bottle across the floor, and arthur found you shaking behind your tent, too proud to cry but too angry to breathe.

or maybe it was just always there, coiled tight like a fuse waiting to burn.

but now? now you’re in arthur’s lap inside an old abandoned shack a mile out from camp — hidden, quiet, filthy — and he’s fucking you like he’s starving for it. like he’ll die if he doesn’t have you.

your skirt’s bunched up around your hips, your back pressed to the splintered wall. his jeans are open just enough for him to be buried inside you, deep and unrelenting, one hand covering your mouth as the other grips your hip like he’s trying to leave bruises.

his mouth is hot against your neck. panting. cursing.

“goddamn,” he growls, teeth grazing your skin. “you take me so good, baby. every time.”

you moan against his hand — helpless, writhing — and he groans in return, the sound low and wrecked.

“shhh,” he murmurs. “you know we can’t be caught. that son of a bitch’d shoot me where i stand.”

but he doesn’t stop. he never stops.

his hips roll hard and slow, dragging every inch of him through your soaked, needy body like he owns it.

you pull your mouth from his palm just long enough to gasp, “he couldn’t do what you do.”

arthur stills — just for a second — eyes burning into yours.

“say that again,” he pants.

you hook your legs around his waist, dragging him in deeper. “he couldn’t make me feel the way you do. he never could.”

arthur makes a sound you’ve never heard before. somewhere between a growl and a moan. he pulls out and slams back into you, rough and deep, hand tightening around your throat now — not hard, just enough to hold you there. enough to make your head spin.

“you’re mine when you say shit like that,” he rasps. “mine, not his. you understand me?”

“yes,” you breathe, drunk on him. “i’m yours.”

his thrusts get faster, more frantic. the wood behind you creaks with every slam of his hips. you cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, your body coiling tighter with every grind of his cock against that perfect spot inside you.

“gonna come for me?” he whispers against your ear. “come on. make a mess on my cock. let me feel you.”

you fall apart with a cry muffled against his shoulder, shaking and clenching around him, and he loses it — burying himself to the hilt and groaning through gritted teeth as he spills inside you, heat flooding your core.

for a long moment, neither of you move.

then he leans back, brushing a strand of hair from your face with rough fingers.

“one day,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna leave him. and when you do… you come to me.”

you nod, already aching for more.

and outside, the wind howls — like it knows this secret’s too dangerous to keep much longer.

[hoondrop]

i kind of see sunoo as a mean dom or switch may i request for an idol!bf coming home to you after an overseas concert :000

anon,, yess!! I see it too!! he fits the mean dom agenda so we'll i love it!!

You barely heard the door shut before you felt it; the heavy, electric silence that followed his presence. You looked up from the bed, heart skipping, and there he was.

Sunoo, fresh off a flight, still in black jeans and a slightly rumpled designer coat, eyes dark and unreadable.

You barely had time to breathe his name before he crossed the room and pushed you flat against the bed, his body hovering, lips brushing your ear.

"Spamming me with naughty pictures and videos? knowing I was flying home tonight?” His voice was low, accusing, almost amused. “You missed me that badly, baby?”

You opened your mouth to answer but he was already on you. his mouth hot, demanding, leaving bruises down your neck as his hands dragged the hem of your nightshirt up.

“You think I would just let you be?” he growled against your skin, his thigh pressing between yours, grinding. “Acting sweet while your fingers were in your panties, huh?”

You whined, hips lifting instinctively, but Sunoo grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand. “Nuh-uh, not tonight. You don’t get to touch me... not yet. You’re gonna lie there and take everything I give you. Understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sunoo.”

He clicked his tongue. “Try again.”

“Yes, Sir."

A wicked gleam paired with his condescending distracts you as his other hand slips down, teasing, stroking the slick heat between your thighs through your panties.

“Such a filthy girl,” he murmured, peeling the fabric down unbearably slow. “So wet just from the sound of my voice?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He was not in the mood for patience, slow reverent intimacy. Not after the stunt you had pulled.

He slid two fingers into you, curling them just right, watching your face with hungry eyes. “You missed this. Say it.”

“I missed you,” you gasped. “I missed this — your hands, your cock—”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and sat up just enough to free himself, his length flushed and already hard. “Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how needy you are. How desperate.”

“Please, Sir. I need you. I’ve been good—I didn’t touch myself—I just need to feel you, please…”

He scoffs, pulling his hand back, letting it hit against your thigh, the flesh jiggling a bit at the force. "Lying to my face, baby?"

You find your hair wrapped around his palm, tugging and pulling on it to bring you closer to his face, a moan leaving your pretty lips at the pull.

"Want me to pull up all the nasty videos you sent? You can hear your cunt squelching.. god, you're such a wet slut for me, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, Sir... fuck.. please, I'm sorry.." you cry out, wanting nothing more than to be stretched around his cock. You missed the feeling of it - of him so bad.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve waited so long — now let me remind you who you belong to.”

He thrust into you in one hard stroke, groaning at the feel of you clenching around him. “Mine,” he hissed. “Say it.”

“Yours, Sunoo — all yours, only yours.”

He didn’t hold back after that.

He pounded into you relentlessly, one hand around your throat, the other tangled in your hair, your moans filling the room along with the sound of skin slapping skin. He took you like he owned you, like the weeks away had been agony and you were the only cure.

When he finally let you come, it was only when he said so. and the orgasm tore through you like lightning, leaving you shaking, ruined, full of him.

Still, he wasn’t done.

“Don’t fall asleep, princess,” he whispered against your neck, hips still grinding slowly. “You think one round’s enough after how long I’ve been gone?”

He smirked when he felt you twitch under him.

“Good. Because I’m not stopping until you can’t say anything but my name"

[r66dusthewriter]

Sundress season.

Pairing: Country boy!Drew/rafe x fem!reader

Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

A/n: This is solely based on Drew saying “I’m from the country ☝️🤠” on that one Jimmy Kimmel Late Night Show interview. This is the first smut I’ve written in what? 2 years? I’m scared, so i'm gonna leave this here and leave.

Synopsis: in which Drew never pursued acting and still lives in the country.

Genre: Smut

Warning: Filth. Read at your own risk.

Word count: 1.2k

From messing around in high school hallways to calling yourself his wife and living on his farm. It still felt surreal sometimes. The air was warming up, thick with the scent of grass and wildflowers and though he always insisted you stayed inside where the A/C could protect you from the heat, you much preferred being by his side.

He liked to act grumpy about it, muttering about the sun and the scorching heat and how he didn’t want bugs eating you alive but the truth was, he loved having you there.

Today was no exception. You’d stepped outside in a soft summer dress paired with your worn-in cowboy boots and the protest he’d been preparing immediately vanished. He just stared for a moment, smiled like he was trying to bite it back, then nodded and pulled open the passenger door of his truck, saying “Alright, come on then.”

You’d spent most of the morning in the passenger seat, bumping along dusty paths while he made small stops, checking out the animals, inspecting rows of young crops, scribbling mental notes for things that needed fixing. He never did anything halfway. Not with the land. Not with you.

On the long way back, he slowed the truck and pulled to a stop near the river crossing the huge property, hopping out and going to help you out to join him.

“I wanna build a dock here,” he said, pointing out toward the water’s edge. “What do you think?”

You climbed onto the opened bed of the truck and settled on a clean blanket he’d laid out earlier for you, your legs swinging off the edge as you studied the view. The way sunlight skimmed the water, the gentle slope of the earth, the stillness of it all…

“I love it,” you said.

He took a few photos of the spot, angles, spacing and depth. Something about how he planned everything made you feel safe, like he was building more than just a life, he was building you into it.

He tucked his phone away and checked the time, then turned to look over at you as you observed the view and he watched you, a half smirk growing on his face. “I’m getting hungry.”

“I can start heading back while you finish out here,” you offered, already swinging to hop down. “Make you something quick until lunch.”

But before your feet touched the ground, he was already there, stepping between you legs, placing his hands on either side of you and caging you in without pressure. He leaned in slowly, kissing your jaw, your neck, the space just below your ear. Lazy, wet and familiar.

Then, with a teasing bite to your shoulder, he murmured, low and rough “Not that kind of hungry”

Your breath caught on a laugh that quickly faded into a quiet moan as his mouth trailed lower, brushing soft kisses along your collarbone, then down the delicate dip of your cleavage. Your fingers tangled in the hair that curled at the nape of his neck, grounding yourself in the moment.

He eased your dress up with slow, deliberate hands, the fabric bunching around your hips. Then, with a quiet groan like he couldn’t help himself, he sank to his knees in the warm grass. The world went still as he looked up, eyes dark, focused, reverent as his lips began to trace soft, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs.

His hands slid upward, thumbs grazing just beneath the edge of your underwear, his voice rough and playful.

“How about a meal to go?”

You couldn’t even speak, just nodded, lifting your hips slightly in invitation. He smiled like a man who’d just won something that wasn’t already his, then slid your panties down your legs, careful and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. He balled the fabric in his hand, then tucked it into the pocket of his jeans with a mischievous glint in his eyes, like it was some kind of trophy.

His hands found your hips with practiced ease, fingers curling firmly as he pulled you toward the edge of the truck bed. The blanket shifted beneath you, the soft rustle of fabric mingling with the quiet buzz of summer. 

Without a word, he lifted your legs, guiding them over his shoulders, holding you there like you would even think about leaving. His grip was secure, grounding, as his eyes flicked up to meet yours one last time, checking in the way he always did, even now.

Then he leaned in, pressing the softest kiss at the very apex of your thighs before his mouth ascended fully, dragging a long, slow lap of his tongue along the delicate heat of you. You gasped, fingers curling tighter into the edge of the blanket as your head tilted back toward the sun.

His movements were slow, deliberate, each one reminding you just how intimately he knew your body, how deeply he understood the rhythm of your pleasure. His tongue flicked your bundle of nerves until you were pulling him by his hair impossibly closer towards you, your moans overtaking the flowing river next to you. He lapped at your slick cunt shamelessly, fucking you with his tongue until every breath you let out was a pathetic whimper. Your chest heaved and gaze blurred, eyelids finally falling shut allowing you to get lost in the moment.

“Ugh fuck” you cursed, thighs trembling around him and locking tighter as he pressed further, deeper, applying pressure to your clit and making his tongue vibrate against it. He let out lewd groans of pleasure as he selfishly took more from you, your moans becoming louder and louder causing his length to tent in his jeans.

You sank back onto the bed of the truck, the warmth of the metal searing your skin briefly but the feeling was distant, almost forgotten. Your back arched against it as pressure started to build on your lower abdomen, his hand reaching up to grope at your hardened nipples over your dress, rolling them between his fingers just enough until the pain was a peak in your pleasure.

You didn’t have time to warn him before your cunt pulsed against his mouth, leaking sweetness onto his plumped lips as he licked you clean of it. Your breathing slowed down as he did, until he rose to his feet with a last kiss to your heat. 

He smiled, his lips glistening as he looked at your swollen core, skimming his thumb along it before introducing it into his mouth to lick the remnants as he watched you intensely, gaze warming your skin more than the sun was.

“Just wait until I get that dock going” he murmured, a breathless edge to his voice as he discreetly adjusted himself in his pants, then extended a hand to help you sit upright. You took it, your legs still heavy with afterglow. As you settled, he stepped even closer, both hands rising to gently sweep your hair back, fingers grazing the sensitive place where your jaw met your neck, tilting your face upward until your hazed eyes met his.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lip before his mouth followed. His tongue flicked softly at your lower lip before deepening the kiss. Slow, sensual and unhurried. You melted into it, moaning faintly at the taste of yourself on him. When he finally pulled back, his eyes stayed locked on yours, lips still ghosting over yours as he whispered with a crooked smile.

“Delicious”

Looking at you like nothing had ever tasted sweeter.

[monserelates]

P.S. I'm Still Not Over You; James Potter

part 4 of the p.s. series

⇨ f! reader x james potter

⇨ summary: The girls have decided to help you (against your will) with your love story, will their plan turn out or wll destiny have another thing planned for you?

⇨ warnings/notes: use of y/n, lowkey confusing timeline angst, not proofread, Emotional cheating themes, heartbreak, tension, crying, James spiraling, reader torn between two people, longing, and one (okay maybe a few) very old love letters/

⇨ word count: 2.9k

The fire crackles like it knows something you don’t. Which is fitting. Everyone seems to know something you don’t. Or worse—something you do, but can’t bring yourself to say out loud.

“Okay,” Marlene says, arms crossed and eyes dangerous. “We need a timeline, a location, and two distractions. Then we strike.”

Lily frowns. “This isn’t a murder plot.”

“It might as well be,” you mutter from the couch, buried under three textbooks you aren’t reading and a guilt you can’t shake. “It feels like I’m planning to bury someone alive.”

Dorcas throws a sock at you. “Stop being dramatic. You’re not murdering anyone.”

“I’m emotionally decapitating myself,” you say flatly. “That's worse.”

“Sweetheart,” Lily says, folding herself onto the floor beside you, “if you were truly over Potter, you wouldn’t still be carrying around a letter you wrote in fifth year and never sent.”

You stiffen.

Marlene winces. “Too soon?”

“Yes,” you say.

“No,” Dorcas says at the same time.

Lily sighs. “Look, all we’re saying is—it’s eating you up. And him too. Peter told us he barely slept last night.”

“Peter should mind his business,” you mutter, face heating.

“He’s part of the intervention,” Dorcas says cheerfully. “No one gets to be Switzerland in a romantic meltdown of this magnitude.”

Marlene plucks the forgotten letter from where it’s half-tucked into your Arithmancy book. The parchment is worn, corners softened from how many times you’ve opened it. She clears her throat before starting to read in a dramatic-soap-opera accent,

"My Dearest James,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. You’ll never read it. You’re probably laughing with Sirius somewhere, chasing Bludgers or charming your way out of detention.And I’ll keep pretending I don’t--"

You snatch it back before she gets to the end. "Marlene, I will literally jump your ass." “I wrote that before Amos. Before anything. I was stupid.”

“You were in love,” Lily says, gently.

You press your lips together. “And now I’m not sure if I’m allowed to be.”

Silence.

Then Marlene sighs. “I was gonna save this for later, but—James reread his letters too.”

Your heart drops. “What?”

“Peter caught him with the box. The one with the envelopes. Said he’d been staring at the second one for twenty minutes.”

The second one. The one where he let you go.

You don’t say anything.

“Listen,” Lily says quietly. “We know you feel guilty about Amos. And scared. And maybe a little angry that none of this happened when it was supposed to. But life doesn’t happen on time. Love sure as heck doesn’t.”

“I’m not ready,” you admit, voice small. “Not to forgive him. Not to—feel this big again. Not when I was just starting to forget.”

Dorcas leans in. “So don’t forgive him. Don’t do anything, if you don’t want to. But don’t pretend like it didn’t mean anything. To either of you.”

Footsteps sound from the boy’s staircase. The Marauders are descending.

“Here we go,” Lily mutters.

“Act natural,” Dorcas hisses.

“I am natural!” you whisper back, definitely not naturally.

Sirius enters first, talking with Remus about someone hexing the suits of armor into singing Celestina Warbeck. James follows, dragging a hand through his hair, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you.

He stops.

You don’t look away.

You should.

Yeah, you definetly should.

But you don’t.

The air goes still.

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t scowl either. Just… watches. Like he’s remembering too.

Sirius is the one to break it. “Alright, why does it feel like something deeply manipulative is happening in this corner of the common room?” He glares at the girls.

“Because it is,” Peter says brightly, earning himself three glares.

James slowly makes his way to the hearth, settling opposite you but saying nothing. Your friends all pretend to do other things, horribly.

“So,” he says finally. “You’re here.”

You blink. “I live here.”

“Right.” He looks away. “Right.”

More silence. More tension.

You think of the letter. Of the way your name looked in his handwriting. Of how he said he didn’t feel good enough. Of how much easier this would be if you didn’t still love him.

But you do.

You hate that you do.

And somehow, the fire keeps crackling, like it’s waiting.

..

Everyone’s still pretending nothing is happening.

The problem is, everything is.

James is now at the far end of the couch, legs stretched out, fingers twitching against his knee like he’s holding back a Quidditch reflex. You’re across from him, trying not to look every time the firelight catches his eyes. (You fail. Twice and counting.)

You’re meant to be reviewing Transfiguration theory. Instead, you’ve read the same sentence five times and still don’t know what a Vanishing Spell’s molecular cost is.

Across the room, Sirius mutters something to Remus and cackles. Remus doesn’t even try to look innocent. Lily shoots them both a death glare. Dorcas is scribbling something into her planner that looks suspiciously like a timeline labeled “J+Y/I.”

You lift your eyes. James lifts his too.

A beat. You both look away.

It’s been like this all week.

After the letters, after the fights, after Amos... You’d thought maybe silence would feel like peace. Instead, it feels like a scream neither of you is ready to release.

“Hey.” His voice startles you.

You glance over. His gaze is gentle now, less tense than earlier, but still wary. Always wary.

“You, um—drop this.” He holds up a parchment. Your parchment.

You freeze.

It’s the edge of the letter you wrote. The one from fifth year. My dearest James...

“Nope!” Marlene snatches it so fast her wrist nearly cracks. “Sorry. That’s—mine. Old homework. Rubbish, really.”

James blinks. “...Right.”

You feel like you might combust. Lily’s hand lands on your shoulder, subtle but grounding.

“So,” Sirius cuts in, dramatically flipping onto his stomach like a cat, “this is cozy. Almost romantic. Firelight. Study books. Long, lingering glances.”

“Sirius,” you and James say at the same time.

He grins. “There it is! The unspoken synchrony.”

Dorcas: “Gross.”

Remus: “It’s like watching a Shakespeare tragedy in slow motion.”

James mutters, “You lot are actual demons.”

You shake your head. “Don’t encourage them.”

Another glance. Longer this time.

He’s still wearing the sweater you like. The one with the worn cuffs, the sleeves too long. You remember falling asleep beside him in that sweater once, years ago, before anything had names.

You look away again.

The silence returns. But it’s not the awful kind. It’s filled with almosts.

And maybe that’s what tonight is. Not a beginning. Not a confrontation. Just... circling.

Too aware. Too afraid. Too much, too soon.

But not nothing.

Definitely not nothing.

..

“Okay,” Lily whispers. “So we plant it. He finds it. We gauge his reaction. Nothing explodes. That’s the plan.”

“I’m sorry,” you blink, “what part of this isn’t emotionally reckless?”

Marlene, lying upside down on her bed, grins. “All of it. That's the point.”

Dorcas holds up your fifth-year letter. The one you never sent. The one Marlene found by accident. The one that begins: “My dearest James, I don’t even know why I’m writing this…”

You almost snatch it back. You don’t.

“This is ridiculous,” you murmur. “What am I even hoping to get out of this? That he reads it and goes, ‘Oh, brilliant, I’ll fall madly in love now, thanks for the stationary’?”

“Maybe not,” Lily says carefully. “But don’t you want to see? Just... see?”

You hesitate.

The parchment is soft now, worn from your hands. You’ve read it so many times the words have lost their shape. But the feeling is still there. Still clinging.

You exhale. “Fine. But we do it my way.”

Later That Night – Common Room

You slip the letter into his Transfiguration textbook. Third page in, just tucked enough that it won’t fall but not so hidden it won’t be found.

The girls watch you like you're defusing a bomb.

“This is going to backfire spectacularly,” you mutter.

“Probably,” Dorcas shrugs, sipping from a stolen pumpkin juice bottle. “But it’ll be spectacular.”

“Where’s Sirius?” Lily asks suddenly.

Marlene: “He’s with Remus. Plotting something ridiculous, probably.”

Too late.

“I KNEW something was up!” Sirius Black appears behind you like a wrathful older brother summoned by the gods of gossip and poorly made choices.

You shriek. “Have you been eavesdropping?”

He places a dramatic hand on his chest. “I’ve been watching. You think I didn’t notice the tragic moon-eyed stares and the sudden ‘accidental’ brushing of hands over breakfast jam jars?”

Remus, following behind him, holds up toast. “She did literally knock the jam into his lap two days ago.”

Sirius points. “Case in point!”

You cover your face with both hands. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he says cheerfully. “You love me. Because I’m the only thing standing between you and public humiliation. Well—besides yourself, obviously.”

He eyes the letter, now pressed in James’s book on the table.

“You sure about this, Y/N?” he asks, softer now. “Because if he hurts you again, I’m hexing him into next Tuesday.”

You smile, wobbly. “I’m not sure about anything.”

Sirius nudges your shoulder. “At least you’re not boring.”

Remus, unusually amused, leans in. “You know, you could just... talk to him.”

Everyone stares at him.

He shrugs. “What? I can be emotionally healthy sometimes.”

Marlene: “You helped Peter throw a dungbomb at his ex last week.”

“Healthy boundaries.”

Lily shakes her head. “Let’s just focus on the drop.”

“Already done,” you say quietly, eyes flicking toward the book. “Now we wait.”

Dorcas sighs dreamily. “I feel like a war general.”

“You are a war general,” Marlene says. “Of feelings.”

You collapse into the couch, nerves starting to settle.

Then the door opens.

James walks in, running a hand through his hair, yawning.

And that’s when it hits you.

The letter’s in there. Waiting. Silent and still and dangerous.

You suddenly feel like you just rewrote the future with a flick of a wrist.

Sirius leans over. “Too late to chicken out?”

You nod, wide-eyed. “Way, way too late.”

James walked back into the common room, yawning, one hand raking through his hair — a picture of casual obliviousness.

And that’s when it hits you.

The letter. It’s in there. Waiting. Silent and still and dangerous.

You suddenly feel like you’ve rewritten the future with a flick of your wand. One moment of insanity — one letter slid between pages — and now you’re staring at the boy you love, wondering if your entire life is about to shift.

Sirius leans over to whisper, “Too late to chicken out?”

You nod, wide-eyed. “Way, way too late.”

James plops onto the couch, textbook already in hand. Your stomach free-falls. He opens the cover.

And just before he can flip the page—

“Mate,” Peter says suddenly, way too loud, “fancy a trip to the kitchens?”

James blinks. “What?”

“I want a tart. Or five. Please come with me. You know I can’t talk to the painting alone.”

James raises an eyebrow. “Can’t believe I’m being emotionally blackmailed by a snack.”

Sirius is already standing. “Actually, sounds like a great idea. I could really use some jelly slugs.”

Remus smirks. “Yeah, some chocolate sounds good.”

James sighs. “Fine. But five minutes. Then I’m studying.”

You don’t exhale until the portrait hole swings closed behind them.

The girls all lean in instantly.

Marlene whispers, “If he finds it tomorrow morning, I give it three hours before he shows up at your door like a Victorian poet.”

Dorcas grins. “Do we think he’ll cry? I’m hoping he cries.”

“Shh,” Lily says suddenly. “Someone’s coming.”

Two boys climb in through the portrait hole. Ravenclaws. Seventh years, probably. Loud. Thoughtless. Not noticing the group of girls curled by the fireplace.

“—I mean, you can’t even blame Diggory,” one of them is saying. “She’s been staring at Potter like she’s in heat since the start of term.”

The other laughs. “Maybe she just likes a challenge. Must suck to go from Diggory to a bloke who won’t touch her.”

You stood so fast your chair nearly tipped.

Marlene grabbed your wrist. “Don’t. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

But it wasn’t you who stormed back through the portrait hole.

It was James.

His face was a mask of fury, lips thin, fists clenched.

Sirius was right behind him. “James—mate—wait—”

But James didn’t wait.

He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed the first boy by the collar, and slammed him hard against the stone wall.

The entire room gasped.

“Say it again,” James hissed.

“What—?”

“Go on. Say it again. Say something about her.”

The other boy reached for his wand. “Back off, Potter.”

James didn’t even hesitate. He threw the first punch — fast and sharp and full of something he’d been bottling for months.

Okay, hot-- No. Now was not the moment.

Sirius and Remus were suddenly there, dragging him back, shouting. Peter moved to stop the other boy from retaliating. Someone screamed. A prefect ran for a professor.

The boy James hit was on the floor, lip bleeding, swearing furiously.

“You don’t ever talk about her like that,” James snarled, still fighting Sirius’ hold. “You don’t look at her like that. She’s worth ten of you.”

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t breathe.

Somewhere between the firelight and chaos, he looked at you — just for a second. And whatever rage he carried melted into something softer. Sadder. Still burning.

And then he let Sirius drag him toward the stairs, shoulders heaving.

Remus turned back briefly. “Don’t worry. He’s not sorry.”

Lily touched your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

But you didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your throat was tight, your hands shaking. You hadn’t cried all week — not when you broke up with Amos, not when you found the letter, not when your girls conspired to rescue your love story with ink and parchment.

But now, watching James fight the world for you like he was born to do it?

You did.

You cried.

Soft. Quiet. Shattered.

And the letter was still waiting.

..

The fire’s nearly out.

A faint glow flickers over your face as you sit cross-legged on the rug, letter in hand. The one your lovesick, fifth year self wrote. The one you helped plant, then second-guessed so violently you’re now contemplating throwing it straight into the flames.

Your thumb brushes over the parchment's edge. You don’t open it—you know what it says. You wrote it. You helped bait him. And now, after what happened outside the kitchens, it feels cruel.

The words echo again in your head.

"She left Diggory for Potter. What a joke. What a slut."

And then James, practically flying across the hallway. Fists clenched. Fury painted across his face like war.

You flinch at the memory. Not because he scared you—but because it scared you how much it mattered. How fast he ran. How much he cared.

The portrait hole creaks behind you.

You don’t turn. You' already know it’s him.'re to immersed in your own thoughts to notice.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there in the dark, probably unsure if he should even come closer.

Finally, James says, “You’re still up.”

You hum. “So are you.”

A beat. He walks toward you, then sits beside you on the floor, not too close, not too far. His hands rest on his knees. His knuckles are bruised.

You eye them. “You alright?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t hit him as hard as I wanted.”

You snort, despite yourself. “Yeah. I noticed.”

Silence wraps around you both for a moment. Not hostile. Not heavy. Just… hesitant.

James swallows. “I didn’t do it for the drama, you know. I didn’t do it so you'd see.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t even realize what they were saying until—” He cuts himself off. “I didn’t like hearing them talk about you like that.”

You finally look at him.

“I didn’t like watching you believe them.”

That makes your chest tighten.

James shifts, glancing at the parchment in your hands. “Is that it?”

You nod.

He gestures to it. “You’re gonna burn it?”

“I thought about it.”

“Why?”

You laugh under your breath, bitter. “Because it’s pathetic.”

He looks at you like you’ve just stabbed him. “It’s not.”

You raise a brow. “You haven’t even read it.”

“Don’t need to.”

You blink. “What?”

“I don’t need to read it to know it’s not pathetic if it came from you.”

You exhale shakily.

James leans back on his elbows, looking up at the dying firelight painting shadows across the ceiling.

“I messed everything up,” he says. “I waited too long, and, as much as it hurt, I watched you fall in love with someone else."

“I wrote a letter too, James.” you say quietly.

“I know that now.”

Another silence. This one hurts more. This one tastes like every moment you could’ve had but didn’t.

James sits up. “Can I ask something?”

You nod.

“If I told you… that I never stopped meaning what I wrote in those letters. That every day since fifth year has been me trying to pretend I didn’t care too much—”

You hold your breath.

“—would you hate me?”

You shake your head. “No.”

He looks at you then, full-on. “Would you still love me?”

It comes out barely a whisper: “I never stopped.”

The letter crumples in your lap.

James reaches for your hand, slowly, like you might bolt. When your fingers meet, it’s soft. Familiar.

Not desperate. Just real.

He presses his forehead to yours. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Your eyes close. “Me neither.”

And for the first time since fifth year, everything feels still.

Not perfect. Not fixed.

But finally, finally honest.

taglist:

@simp-for-fiction

 @natalia42069

 @miapotterismyfav 

@strlightfilms 

@mgg55lovr 

@bellatrixcurls @gulugulukaboom

@glittervame

@andrewgarfieldislife @yasministration

@elijahhewsonswifelol

@leena12

@stta-princess

@klobug287

@chicledebanana

@stta-princess

@klobug287

@chicledebanana

@kissmxcheek

@froggiedragon @abhootghiihii @azurewilloutcast @king4phrodite

@simpingovereveryonez @toothy-rabbit

[melanch8ly]

I think it would be very fun to have Sevika tied up while you rile her up and see how furious she gets… much to think about

tied and teased

tags: bondage, power play, fingering, nipple play, begging, forcing sevika to be subby, edging.

you’d been begging to tie her up for weeks.

weeks.

and sevika had been saying no for just as long. every time you brought it up she’d just scoff, tip her chin at you with that smirk like you were playing at a game you didn’t understand, like you were real cute for thinking you could do anything to her that she didn’t let you do. but you kept asking, persistent, climbing into her lap with those soft, sweet eyes and your ridiculous pout and your even more ridiculous mouth. promising to be good. swearing you’d make it worth her time.

you were desperate for it. and sevika?

well, she wanted to see what you'd do with power. she was curious. and maybe a little cocky.

so she let you.

sort of.

“you get ten minutes,” she’d growled, pulling her shirt off as she sat back in the creaking old armchair in her safehouse, chest bare, eyes glinting like danger. “tie me wrong, and i’m breaking that headboard within five minutes.”

you grinned.

you didn’t tie her wrong.

no. you used three different knots, tested and double-tested—and had the rope wound tight around her wrists, binding them above her head to the iron beam behind the chair. she watched you do it, lips curled with lazy interest, letting you pull her mechanical arm taut, her flesh wrist even tighter. you straddled her thighs, made sure her legs were spread wide, left her muscles flexed under your weight.

and the whole time she just watched you. let you work.

she still felt powerful.

…right up until you started riling her up.

because you’d promised to behave.

you swore.

but the second you had sevika tied and helpless, her abs flexing beneath you, arms yanked above her head, those silver eyes glaring at you with heat, you lost your goddamn mind.

you started teasing.

slow. so fucking slow.

you pressed kisses to her jaw, her throat, bit at her collarbone. you kept grinding down into her lap, just barely brushing where it counted, then pulling back. dragging the strap against her abs and laughing into her neck when she growled. you cupped her tits, bit her lip, licked the corner of her mouth when she tried to bite you.

and sevika?

she was fuming.

tied up. flushed. jaw tight. glaring. her arms strained against the rope like she was ready to break the damn beam behind her. you could feel the tension radiating off her. she kept bucking her hips and you’d just lift off with a giggle, wagging your finger like she was some disobedient pet.

“you’re pushing your luck, doll,” she snapped finally, voice all gravel and restraint, “get me off or i swear to god—”

“swear all you want,” you purred, leaning in to nose at her cheek. “i'm doing what i want.”

she snarled. actually snarled.

her thighs flexed under you. her arms yanked hard enough the metal groaned above her. she bared her teeth like a feral thing, breath hot against your ear.

“just wait till i get out of these restraints.”

you just smiled sweetly. rocked your hips slow against her thigh. and whispered: “then beg.”

she froze.

you pulled back. stared down at her flushed, furious face. daring her. lips slick, eyes wide, that stupid little grin she hated on your mouth.

"c’mon, big girl," you murmured. "say please."

she laughed. once. bitter and full of smoke.

“fuck you.”

"you wish."

you leaned in and bit her earlobe. dragged your teeth down her neck and didn’t stop until she was twitching in the ropes, jaw clenched so hard you could hear it crack.

her voice was low. murderous.

“you’re gonna regret this.”

but your fingers were already sliding down her stomach. already brushing between her legs, under her boxers. already teasing just the very edge of her.

"maybe," you whispered, voice all saccharine evil. “but for now…”

you kissed her. slow and messy. like a girl who just lit the match and threw it into the gas. “...you’re all mine.”

and sevika?

she was still tied up. still furious. and wet as fuck.

you rock your hips just a little. just enough to make her grind her teeth, flex her thighs, curse through her teeth. you kiss her again, but lightly. you graze her lips with yours, smile against her mouth, mock her with your restraint.

“not so fun when you’re the one tied up, huh?” you murmur, voice sticky-sweet.

her silver eyes glare daggers at you.

you giggle.

“this is kinda what i feel like every time you’ve got me tied up,” you say, dragging your nails slowly down her stomach. “makes me feel real empathetic, y’know?”

“you’re dead,” she mutters.

you kiss her again.

“nah.”

you grind down slow. obscenely slow. her thigh flexes under you. her jaw is tight, her chest heaving, every breath louder than the last. you can see her straining again, muscles coiled, like if she could just get one hand free she’d flip the both of you and have your face in the fucking floorboards.

but she can’t!!

and you know it.

so you ride her thigh just enough to make you feel good. shift your hips in little motions she can’t sync with. you drag your tongue across her collarbone. you bite her. you moan soft and breathy just to taunt.

“mm—fuck, i could finish like this,” you whimper, hips rolling. “wouldn’t that be mean?”

she growls.

“don’t you fucking—”

“aw, poor baby,” you pout. you grind again. “wanna come too? too bad.”

you kiss her hard this time, hot and messy, just enough tongue to rile her, just enough pull on her bottom lip to make her strain for more. but when she leans in, you pull back.

“nuh uh,” you tease. “if you want something, ask for it.”

she laughs. dark.

“not fuckin’ happening.”

“you sure?” your hand slips down her stomach. lower. between her legs.

her hips jump.

“gonna be a long fuckin’ night for you, then.”

you lean in close. lips brushing hers. just enough to tempt.

“i’ve got time, baby.”

and then you go to work.

you press your palm just barely between her thighs, roll your wrist, make sure your touch is maddeningly light, more threat than promise. you lap at her nipple, mouth teasing, tongue flicking slow while your hips grind against her thigh like you don’t even notice the mess you’re making.

she groans. curses. bucks.

nothing.

still tied.

you pull back again.

“still don’t wanna beg?” you ask, faux-innocent.

“go fuck yourself.”

you laugh and slide your fingers in.

just two. just enough. slow. steady. shallow at first. then deeper. you start fucking her with your fingers while grinding on her lap, mouth on her throat, moaning softly just to mock the way she groans, gasps, and writhes. the ropes creak. the chair tips. her voice is wrecked and low.

you keep going. and going. and going.

until her hips are twitching, her thighs are flexing, and she’s snarling every time you pull away just as she’s about to crest.

you edge her. once. twice. four times.

by the fifth, her whole body is shaking.

and your voice? still teasing.

“you gonna come like this, tied up and begging?” you purr. “or you gonna be stubborn forever?”

“…fuck you…”

you curl your fingers just right.

she chokes.

“…i—fuck—”

you pull out again. and sevika snaps.

“please.”

your brows lift. lips part.

“what was that?”

she glares like she wants to tear the walls down with her teeth.

“…please,” she growls. “fucking please, let me come.”

you smile.

“awww.”

you lean forward. press a kiss to her mouth.

then sink your fingers back in. harder, rougher, faster.

“you’re so cute when you beg.”

and sevika? she comes so fucking hard she nearly breaks the chair.

should i write pt.2 where sev does escape and gives reader hell?? lmk

editing acc: @sevikastr4p on tt

[authorchariot]

I'm here to feed Jordan Nation (us, essentially)

Gimme a little drabble with Jordan. I don't care what, just make it filthy.

(Or, if you'd prefer a ready-made fic idea, sitting on Jordan's face while it's all busted and broken. Because that was super fucking hot)

i've been kinda ill recently so i'm gonna give you (and the other anon who asked for jordan smut) a snippet of the jordan chapter i have for kinktober

#6: gloss & grind (teaser)

rating: explicit ❤️

fandom: skincare (2024)

pairing: jordan weaver x reader

wc: 0.4k+

tags: cock and ball worship, dirty talk, dom/sub, established relationship, pov second person, not beta read

"Get over here. On your knees." He snaps and you're over in an instant, kneeling in front of him, watching the sweat drip down the dip of his hipbone. Running a hand through your hair, he presses his hips forward just a little and you can smell the musk of his skin, heat radiating off his body. "You like when I'm all sweaty, don't you, baby? Your little, slutty brain gets all turned on, huh?" Absolutely.

You feel his fingers curl lightly into your hair, his hand a steady presence on the back of your head, as he pushes his hips forward, letting you rub your face against his clothed erection. God, he smells so good and you can feel him, twitching against your cheek, as you nuzzle his cock and balls through his speedos, whining desperately. You love being underneath him like this, peering up at him along those acres of slick, tanned muscles.

He groans, cock twitching harder against your face. "Fuck… You love that, don't you, little cock-slut?" Strong fingers curl tighter into your hair, tugging you closer as he grinds against your face. Your eyes roll as he presses your face against the crook of his thigh, breathing in the thick, heady musk there. "Little pervert…" He murmurs appreciatively. "You want my dick, huh? Want me to unload my balls all over that pretty, little face of yours?"

His hand moves from the back of your head to your jaw, his thumb pressing against your lower lip. You let it slide into your mouth, sucking eagerly, as you hum around it. "Fuck, those perfect, cock-sucking lips…" He pulls his thumb free with a wet pop, tracing the pad across your lips, making them glisten.

"Please, sir." You pant out.

"Please what?" His hand returns to the back of your head, tugging your hair until you look up at him, your focus drawn away from his cock. "Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck my face." You manage and he grins, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his speedos to pull them down, freeing his thick, heavy cock, already hard as it bounces in front of your face, leaking. He wraps a hand around the base and slaps it lightly across your cheek.

"Open up." You let your jaw drop open, obediently tilting your head so he can spit in your mouth. He does before rubbing the head of his cock against your lips. "That's a good, little cock-sucker." He praises before pushing forward, your lips wrapping around the head. Fuck, he tastes so good, dripping in your mouth, hot flesh sliding deeper as you hollow your cheeks, licking and sucking eagerly. He feeds more into your mouth, stroking your hair away from your face. "Mmm… That's it. Suck that fat cock."

taglist: @ingoldthewizard @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @starwarskawaii

[abigailovesz]

neeeeeed a part 2 to the birthday fic aka a smutty present at home 😔✊ please

of course!! here's part 2 to the birthday fic.

the house was quiet when you and JJ finally walked in, the door clicking shut behind you. Your heels dangled from your fingers, your birthday dress slipping a little off your shoulder, and JJ looked like he wanted to devour you the second it was just the two of you.

You turned to toss your shoes by the door, but he was already behind you, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you back into him. His voice was low in your ear, husky from the drinks and the way he'd been eyeing you all night.

“You wore that dress just to drive me insane, didn’t you?”

You smirked and leaned back against him, tilting your head as his lips brushed your neck. “It was my birthday. I figured I could torture you a little.”

JJ laughed softly, but it was breathless — and then his mouth was on you, open and hot against your skin. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, and his grip tightened on your hips as he slowly walked you backward toward the bedroom.

Each step was charged. You could feel the electricity buzzing between your bodies — the hours of teasing glances and touches under the dinner table, the lingering kisses when no one was looking, all of it building to this moment.

As soon as you were through the doorway, JJ didn’t hold back. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you easily and pressing you up against the door. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and he kissed you hard — the kind of kiss that left no room for air, no room for doubt.

JJ's breath was ragged against your skin as he kissed down your neck, pausing to nip at your collarbone before trailing his lips lower. One hand slid up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher as he went, while the other tangled in your hair, tugging lightly.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and intense in the low light of the bedroom. "You got no idea how badly I want you," he said, his voice rough. "I've been thinking about this all night— gettin' you alone, touchin' you, tastin' you..."

His hand slid higher, fingers brushing against the lace of your panties.

You gasped, arching into him, and he groaned softly. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

his words sent shivers down your spine, a rush of heat pooling between your legs. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, and he obliged, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. He kissed you like he was starving for it, like he needed you to breathe.

As he kissed you, his hands continued their exploration, sliding under the hem of your dress to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh there. He hitched your leg higher on his hip, changing the angle of your bodies, and you could feel the hard length of him through his jeans, pressing insistently against your cunt.

JJ broke the kiss with a soft curse, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he caught his breath. "Fuck, baby," he said, his voice strained. "tell me ya want it."

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours, and you knew he needed to hear it — that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you.

you swallowed, looking up at him. "i do, jay — please?"

His expression softened at your words, a slow smile spreading across his face. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as he gazed at you.

"I've got ya baby," he murmured, his thumb stroking your cheek. "I'm gonna take such good care of you..."

With a low groan, he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands slid down to your hips, gripping them as he held you close, your bodies molded together from chest to thigh.

JJ walked you backwards towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours. As the back of your knees hit the mattress, he sat down, pulling you to straddle his lap. His hands slid up your back, finding the zipper of your dress, and with a slow tug, he began to unzip it inch by inch.

"wanna see all of you," he breathed against your mouth.

He peeled the dress down your arms, his hands lingering on your bare skin, before letting it pool around your waist. JJ leaned back to drink in the sight of you — the swell of your breasts in your lace bra, the curve of your waist, the flare of your hips.

"Fuck," he said, his voice rough.

he reached out to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the lace of your bra, teasing your nipple through the fabric. His other hand slid down to the small of your back, holding you against him as he leaned in to press open mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.

but then, within minutes, JJ's control finally snapped.

"want your birthday present, baby?'

you nodded.

His hands slid up your sides, pushing your dress up around your waist before deftly unhooking your bra, tossing it aside. He paused for a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your chest.

"god, you're perfect," he breathed before ducking his head down to take one nipple into his mouth.

You gasped and arched into him, tangling your fingers in his hair. "shit-"

As he lavished attention on your breasts, JJ's other hand slid down your stomach, his fingers brushing along your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. He toyed with the lace there for a moment before slipping beneath the fabric to cup your pussy.

"Fuck, you're so wet already," he groaned against your breast.

He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, rubbing the sensitive spot as he slid one long, ringed finger inside you. You clenched around him, your hips rocking up to meet his touch as a moan escaped your lips. JJ pumped his finger slowly, curling it to stroke that perfect spot inside you as he continued his assault on your breast.

"so tight n' ready for me," he murmured, adding a second finger and thrusting them deeper, harder. His thumb pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing quick circles around it.

"JJ!" you cried out, your back arching off the bed as the pleasure mounted. You could feel your climax building, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he worked you higher and higher.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his breath hot against your skin.

With a few more thrusts and a particularly hard press against your clit, he sent you flying over the edge. You came with a shout of his name, your body convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. JJ worked you through it, his fingers slow and gentle now

jj slid his fingers out, licked him clean and leaned down to your face. "happy birthday, again sweetheart."

[flamingbluepanda]

Gallavich Week 2025 - Sports

@gallavichthings I bet yall thought I was dead 😁😁😁 i liiiive, and this ended up being... much more Gallagher family than gallavich, so if you don't wanna take this thats totally valid lol.

Anyway, enjoy this ficlet! I love you all!

~~

It was actually Carl who suggested that they start an annual kickball game. They didn't have an annual family reunion of any sort -- they didn't need one when they saw each other literally every week -- but Carl is the one who says they need some sort of annual event.

The second thing he says is “Mickey is banned from playing in the annual kickball game.”

Mickey, with a piece of fried chicken in hand, doesn't complain.

“What the fuck? Why?” Ian asks.

“You've played video games with him, he's insanely competitive!” Carl complained.

“Didn't you literally develop a crush on him after he pissed on second plate at little league?” Lip asked.

“That was a political statement, the other team were a bunch of bitches.” Mickey said.

“I'm not playing if Mickey can't play.” Ian huffed.

“That's also fine, you're like, 10 times more physically fit than all of us, playing sports with you is exhausting.” Debbie said.

“Rude.” Ian grumbled.

“You have to play now, for our marital honor.” Mickey said, still stuffing his face.

“You could at least pretend to be upset that you aren't invited to the family gathering.”

“Oh he's still invited,” Carl grinned, “he gets to be ref.”

The table fell silent, and then, with growing excitement, Liam whispered “We're all gonna die.”

“But it'll be glorious.” Ian said.

~~

The first annual Gallagher kickball game arrives in the heat of June, in a shitty old baseball diamond that they did not spend any money or time to try and book.

“Alright! Points will be awarded based on how the ref and mini ref feel!” Mickey shouted, wearing a pair aviators and a black, sleeveless shirt that said REF in white fabric marker.

“Yeah!” Franny shouted, standing next to him in her matching outfit.

“Did you even bother to Google how to play kickball?” Kevin asked.

“Nope!” Mickey said, then lifted his whistle to his lips and blasted it once. “Play ball!”

The teams were boys versus girls, the refs were biased as fuck -- the boys team got bonus points for hotness (“thanks babe!”) And the girls got bonus points for awesomeness (“mommy loves you franny!”) And both teams got points for unsportsmanlike conduct (“you're supposed to take points away for that, Mickey-” “shut up, Liam, we're winning!”) And Mickey and Franny very happily sat in the shade with their whistles and the babies, shouting random fouls and at one point making Lip go to the “penalty bench” (not a real thing) for being a “fucking nerd” (not a real foul)

In the end, they all laid around the park with lukewarm beers, Franny and Mickey chasing each other with water guns.

Fiona nudged Carl. “This was a good idea.”

Carl grinned at her. “Same time next year?”

“Here here.” The Gallagher siblings said, clinking their bottles together.

In the setting sun, laughter and cheap beer flowed through the air.

It was somehow, perfect.

[s-sh-ne]

there are worse games to play [1] - bucky barnes x f!reader (hunger games au)

Bucky didn’t expect this. Not the house. Not the woman who had a gun raised to his head one second and was inviting him to dinner the other. Certainly not the smell of homemade stew wafting from her opened windows.

warnings: cozy dystopia, implied hunger games violence, angst, very hurt/comfort, allusions to suicide, implied past deaths, trauma, bucky barnes needs several hugs in every universe, kinda MCU x Hunger Games crossover but I try to really just keep it subtle as I don't like massive crossovers (mentions of Katniss & the gang, but mainly background stuff)

w/c: 4.1k

a/n: this came to me after reading so so so many bucky fics (without even being a marvel girl its insane!) I'm a hunger games super fan and i absolutely adore bucky so when I pictured traumatized!victor! bucky i just had to pump out an entire fic! this is still a wip since it was supposed to be a one shot n then i hit the 10k word mark not even halfway through so i was like this is now a mini series lol enjoy <3333

-> big kudos to so so many bucky fic writers for getting me into this lovely lovely man (including but not limited to @artficlly @fckmebarnes & @marvelstoriesepic <3333 i love your work so much, inspired me to start writing for this man)

-> main masterlist -> tawgtp masterlist

there are worse games to play, james newton howard

The train that once ran from the Capitol to District Twelve had long since been put out of commission, stopping in the bleak station of Six. This district was still bustling with activity but transportation to Twelve was impossible, or so the locals kept repeating. The proof was there, long abandoned freight cars on their side discarded at the station.

“Twelve’s long gone,” They’d said, nodding their head towards the east. Destroyed by the Capitol over four years ago, when everything happened. If people were still there, they lived off their own resources, with no link to any other district. The more Bucky Barnes asked around, the more he realized he’d have to find another way to his destination. He prayed he wouldn’t have to go on foot, hell, he’d beg on his knees not to – not in this heat. Though he’d take the boiling weather over freezing temperatures anytime. 

The air was sweltering, the peak of the summer bearing down on his already sweaty back. Why he’d decided to move across the continent in the middle of the hottest season in Panem, he couldn’t find an answer. Maybe it was because the Capitol was emptier than ever, or maybe because he realized nothing was left back for him in Seven. No matter the reason, he was now dragging his exhausted body across Six’s district center looking for even the smallest mode of transportation he could use. He had money, a lot of it, but it was most likely worthless here. Only a few places accepted dollars after everything. Most of the districts traded, and Bucky had some trinkets leftover from his days in the Capitol, though he supposed the locals could melt the coins down. 

Bucky eventually found an old man willing to trade his old motorbike for a few dollars and silverware. The thing was rusted, old, but would do for the couple days separating him from Twelve. Might be nice to feel the wind against his skin. Might even give him a second to think about what he was gonna do once there. Because yeah, he might’ve planned to leave the Capitol, take little to nothing with him, and travel his way across the country, but he sure as hell hadn’t planned what he was going to do there. 

Maybe the wind would whisper the answers on the road, or maybe he wouldn’t even find them in Twelve. It was a grim thought, but it was the only thing he had going for him, other than returning to the shell of his old life. And returning to that? That was something Bucky Barnes would never, ever, do. 

-

Scorching mornings always made you want to stay in bed, in the soft linens Natasha had just cleaned for you a day prior. The heatwave was brutal this year, so many of your flowers wilted under the unrelenting rays of the sun. Yet, it wasn’t anything you couldn’t survive; your home always got like this during the summer, ever since you were a child. 

You pushed your sheets out of the way, peeking out your small window. The same view you’d seen your entire life greeted you, the overgrown garden your mother had planted decades ago, the tall trees offering the flowers some respite from the sun. The house next door, a small dilapidated thing with daffodil yellow curtains, still stood there, though abandoned for a few years now. Your blue curtains still rustled in the soft summer breeze, wafting in the scent you could only describe as purely District Twelve. 

Iron, flowers, and coal, all mixed together into a perfume you wish you could bottle and cherish for eternity. Because with every passing day since Twelve was destroyed, you could smell the iron and coal slowly leaving the mix, and though the scent of only flowers was lovely, it wasn't home. That prickling, nose-wrinkling smell of coal was home, sticking to everything, to your father’s coat when he came home, to the tools that stuck by the hearth, to even your mother and brother. 

You guessed that was the future now, after everything. 

With one last wistful look outside, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You had a long day ahead of you. You had to make soap for all the inhabitants of your community (all eight of you), stop by Victor’s Village for bread, and tend to your garden before the heat killed it. With a deep breath, you made quick work of braiding your hair and threw on a simple dress, before tying an apron around yourself. Soap-making may be therapeutic to you but you had no intention of getting oil all over your dress. It was hard enough to clean out regular grime with no running water, and the last time you had sheepishly handed your oil-stained clothes to Natasha, she had almost popped a vein in her forehead. 

The warm rays felt like honey on your arms as you opened all the windows in your small kitchen/workspace, letting the fresh breeze in. You gathered your ingredients – the lard Sam had dropped off last week, the lye, the massive jar of dried petals – and got to work. It wasn’t terrible hard work but you still had to heat the fat with the lye for hours before even thinking of the final result.

Your morning was spent wiping sweat from your brow and stirring every so often. The chirping of the birds accompanied your work, the only sound in your small home, the crackling of the fire and your humming. Stray wisps of your hair were stuck to your forehead as you wiped the counters clean, the sun now high in the sky. The soap still had to boil for the better part of the next two days so you made sure your house wasn’t in any risk of catching fire during your absence and covered your large pot. 

You pinned your messy braids atop your head before shrugging off your apron. With a satisfied sigh, you locked your door and set out for the afternoon, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from down the dirt path and the sun beating down on your head. 

-

Bucky’d been riding for the last two days, stopping once to rest against the rusted bike as the moon started to rise. He didn’t get much sleep. The heat was just as unbearable during the night and the dirt wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d slept, but there was a sort of freedom to it. No cage disguised as a gilded penthouse in the Capitol, no relic of a president breathing down his neck. Just him, the hunk of junk he was leaning against, and the stars. When the sun rose, he was already on the bike, kicking up dust as he rode. He passed by the old border compound, separating Six from Twelve, his eyes fixed on the road as dilapidated buildings raced by. 

The roads had deteriorated since the last time he’d been to Twelve, over fifteen years ago now.  There was no sign of through traffic, just cracked concrete with small flowers poking through. He’d planned on stopping in the old District center, if it was still standing. For all he knew no one was there anymore, just a pile of rocks and bones. He still wasn’t sure just what he was doing here, but he was determined to find something. There was nothing left for him in Seven, even less in the Capitol. Hell, he’d ride up to Thirteen if it meant getting the furthest away. 

He drove on for another few hours before the center came into view. It was a grim sight, the image of destroyed buildings and rubble growing as he sped closer. His breath caught as he stopped his bike, looking out at the remains. There was nothing left of the main town square, nothing of the stage he’d once stood on, rattling on about dead tributes. 

Twelve was already a bleak district, but this was beyond dismal. Bucky could see bones sticking out from piles of destroyed concrete, even animals chewing on long decayed bodies. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes scanning the carnage for something, anything that might make this pointless trek of his mean something. He’d heard rumors of people settling back here but there was so much gone that he wasn’t sure he believed them now. He turned his eyes away, his heart in his throat. He’d seen death, he’d lived it even, but this was where he was supposed to find life. To find whoever he was outside of the Capitol’s influence. Outside of the damn grip Snow had on him for years. 

His metal hand gripped the handlebars tightly, running his other hand through his hair. He could go back, live the rest of his life in Seven, with people who didn’t even recognize him anymore. Or he could go back to the Capitol. Alone in his penthouse, mostly destroyed from the rebel attacks, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and ended it. That was how most of his life plans looked like anyways, ever since those damn Games. 

Bucky’s thoughts flickered back to seventeen years ago, standing on that podium. He was just a goddamn kid. He remembered vividly looking at the other tributes, with no clue that they’d all die and he’d live to remember their faces. At that moment, he envied them. He envied them for dying, because he wished he was in their place. Dead before he could experience what the Capitol did, or before everything came crashing down and he was left with nothing. Before he drove all the way across the country to find more fucking death. 

Come on Barnes, snap out of it. You haven’t even seen the rest. Someone’s probably out there somewhere. 

He took a deep breath, lifting his head again to scan the debris. That’s when he spotted a small dirt path leading down a small hill. Better than nothing. He kicked up dust as the engine started and he sped to the road. His heart leaped in his chest at the sight of tire tracks deeply imprinted in the dust, like the road had been used recently. He rode for another minute before two houses came into view. They were small, nothing fancy, just colorful curtains hanging from each window. He turned off his engine, scanning further down the road. There wasn’t anything in his immediate view, but the tire tracks kept going. Maybe if he went further, he’d find something. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear her approach. Just heard the sound of a rifle cocking behind him. 

“You got about ten seconds to tell me what the hell you’re doin’ here before I shoot.”

-

You heard the incessant rumble of the engine before you saw it. You’d recently come home from picking up the bread from Peeta and a drink at Sarah’s place, checking on the soap to see how far along it was. The late afternoon was quiet, just the buzz of insects outside your window and the distant call of an elk somewhere deep in the forest. You were washing potatoes for supper, enjoying the cool afternoon breeze when it happened. 

It was low at first but grew louder as you looked out of your window. This wasn’t a normal occurrence, especially not coming from the city center. The only person who had a vehicle in your small community was Steve and it sure as hell didn’t sound like whatever you were hearing. Your mind raced. It could be the settlement out west but when did they ever come from the city center? Nobody came from there anymore. You were the only ones this close to it, and the last person to arrive was Steve three years ago. 

Your hands trembled as you reached for your father’s rifle leaned against the wall next to you. The roar grew louder and the source came into view, finally. You quickly shut the curtains, leaving just a sliver of light for you to peek out. The sound sputtered to a stop as the person parked in front of the neighbouring house, the one with the yellow curtains. Your eyes caught the silhouette of a broad man atop a motorbike, his eyes scanning his surroundings. You couldn’t see much of him, but caught a glint of silver as he stretched out his arms. A fucking metal arm? Oh wonderful. 

Your fingers tightened on your gun, quietly moving to the door, nudging it open with your foot. He was looking down the road leading to Victor’s Village, his eyes fixed away from you, and you took the opportunity to approach him quietly. You cringed slightly as your door squeaked to a close behind you but he didn’t budge. You were able to get right behind him, your eyes scanning the strong planes of his back under his shirt, the metal of his arm shining in the sun. You held your breath, cocked the rifle. Aimed straight at his head.

“You got about ten seconds to tell me what the hell you’re doin’ here before I shoot,” you threatened, and prayed he couldn’t hear the tremble in your voice. His back straightened, his broad shoulders tensing. He slowly raised his arms, still facing away from you. You scanned his back for any weapons, noticing the way his brown hair curled at the base of his nape. He had a single knife strapped to his leg, so you tightened your grip on the gun, your knuckles white. 

“Just passing through,” the man replied carefully. “Didn’t think anyone was left here.” His voice was rough, like it hadn’t been used in days. You stayed silent for a beat longer, fingers twitching against the trigger. 

“Well, there is.” You didn’t say more, just kept the gun aimed at him. His arms still raised, he twisted on the bike to face you. You were met with the bluest eyes you’d ever seen, steadily looking you over. He had heavy dark circles underneath his eyes, betraying exhaustion, and he squinted as he faced the sun. 

“Didn’t mean to cause trouble.” You shakily lowered the gun, but kept your finger on the trigger. Just in case. He looked like he could easily bring you to the ground with a sweep of his legs. 

“Who’re you?” You asked, jerking your chin towards him. He lowered his arms, slowly swinging a leg over the bike to get off. His movements were slow and calculated as if you were a wild animal. 

“Name’s Bucky, ‘m just looking for a place to crash.” ‘Bucky’ said, and your eyes narrowed with familiarity. You couldn’t place it but you were sure you’d seen his face before. Maybe a Peacekeeper? One of the rebels Katniss had fought with? 

“Where’re you from?” You pushed further, still skeptical. His metal arm flexed lightly in the sun and he averted his eyes. 

“Seven” 

“Why'd you come here then?”

“Isn't anything left for me there, “ he shrugged. 

You took a few more seconds to assess him. He could’ve hurt you already if he really wanted to. Bucky answered your questions, didn’t budge unless you’d made the first move, didn’t seem aggressive. Aside from that silver arm. With a sigh, you fully aimed the gun at the ground. You nodded your head towards the house next to yours. 

“That one’s been empty, you can stay there for as long as you need,” you offered. 

He seemed surprised at your switch in attitudes and looked over at the yellow curtains, before shifting his eyes back to yours. 

“It’s fully furnished,” you added. “Last folks didn’ take much when they left.” He gave you a strange look, like he didn’t trust the offer. “Seriously, it’s fine. Ain’t the first newcomer we’ve had.” 

“Alright,” Bucky rested the bike against the rickety fence between the two houses and swung a small pack over his shoulder.

“Travelled all the way from Seven with only that thing?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Seven was the furthest district from yours, on the west coast of the country. You walked down your own pathway, through the wildflowers, still looking at him over the fence. 

“Long story,” He said simply, striding towards the door. You’d reached your door as well, twisting the knob. 

“Tell me about it over dinner.” When he froze at the door and frowned at you, you laughed quietly. “If there’s food in there, it’s cans of beans from twenty years ago. I’m makin’ potato stew, jus’ come over in an hour.” 

Bucky held your stare for a second longer, an unreadable look in his eyes. Then he grunted, nodded, and pushed the door open. Before he stepped through though, he looked back at you.

“Thanks. By the way. Didn't think I’d be sleeping in an actual bed tonight.”

You just smiled at him and closed the door behind you. 

-

Bucky didn’t expect this. Not the house. Not the woman who had a gun raised to his head one second and was inviting him to dinner the other. Certainly not the smell of homemade stew wafting from her opened windows. He was standing outside her door, the sun low in the sky, his metal fingers flexing against his leg. He wasn’t sure if he should knock, call out (he hadn’t even caught her name) or just walk in. That last one seemed like a quick way of getting a bullet in his groin though.

He settled for a knock. Just a soft rap of his knuckles against the worn wood. 

“Just come in! S’open!” her voice called from inside, so casually. Like he wasn’t a total stranger. 

He pushed open the door, walking into the small space. He’d thrown on one of his black shirts, still clinging with sweat and dust, but it was the nicer one of the bunch. He hadn’t expected this level of hospitality, especially not in a spot so desolate as this. 

She was facing away from him, humming a tune he couldn’t place. There was a large pot next to the smaller one she was stirring. The air smelled like flowers, and he quickly located the source of it. Dozens of bouquets were hung upside down in a shadowed corner of the small room, dried and preserved. She turned back to smile at him, as if welcoming a friend. 

“Sit wherever you like, I’ll be with you in a tick.” 

Bucky sat down on a small rickety stool at her table. More flowers spread out on the surface. It was so small in here he felt like he was towering over the whole place, but it was comfortable. Lived in. It had a soul, unlike most places he’d seen and lived in. They sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he cleared his throat and asked for her name. She laughed and answered him, still stirring the stew. The comfortable quiet settled over them once more. He could hear the evening birds chirping, the wind rustling the trees outside. 

“You’re kind.” He stated, breaking the silence once more when she turned to set the pot of stew on the table. She stilled for a second, looking over at him, her lips quirked.

“Well, ain’t much to gain by being rude. My ma taught me that.” 

A bowl of food was pushed towards him, a fresh loaf of bread next to it.

“I guess not,” He waited for her to sit and take the first bite before he grabbed his spoon. He watched her swallow cautiously, old instincts still around to haunt him.  . 

“It’s not poisoned, Bucky,” she teased, her eyes glinting with amusement. His name left her lips for the first time and he felt his lips stretch into a small smile – his first one in weeks. He finally took a bite. It wasn’t very flavorful, but damn, it was the best thing he’d tasted in months. He let out a quiet groan and took another bite. Another chuckle escaped her and she pushed the loaf towards him. 

“Have some, it’s fresh from today.” 

He obliged, tearing himself a piece. They ate in silence, like they weren’t complete strangers. She was still humming, smelling the bread every time she took a bite. The setting sun’s rays were golden, casting a warm glow over the small kitchen. When they both finished, the woman took both their bowls, putting them in the large copper sink under the window. 

“Let me help,” He stood quickly, knocking the stool over. He muttered an apology and she laughed. God, she always laughed. It was a soft sound, quiet but still melodious. 

“I wish you could, but ain’t no runnin’ water in these parts anymore. I’ll go down to the river tomorrow.”

He sat back down, lifting the stool, as she took a seat across from him again. 

“So, Bucky. What’s your story?” She rested her head on her palm, looking over at him expectantly. 

“Not much to say. I came from the Capitol after everything went to shit.”

“Thought you said you were from Seven?”

“Originally.”

Her mouth opened in a small ‘ah’ and urged him to go on. He pretended not to notice her eyes flicking down to his left arm curiously. 

“There’s seriously not much else. I left ‘cause there was nothing back there for me.” As kind as she was, he wasn’t gonna go and tell his entire life story to this woman he’d just met. Her eyes narrowed slightly but she let him off easy. 

“A’right.” 

“There more of you?” He asked after a beat. The grin that had slipped away from her took back its place. 

“Yeah, seven more,” she started, waving vaguely towards the east. “There’s more little settlements all over Twelve but ours is the closest to the District center. Whatever’s left of it, I suppose.”

“Saw it on the way in. I really thought I wasn’t gonna find anyone out here.” 

She sighed, a hand running through her hair. 

“Most of us this close grew up ‘round here. This,” she gestured at the space around them “is where I grew up. Down the road, Sam and Sarah live in their grandparents’ house. Even further down, in Victor’s Village, Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch kinda just live together.”

He knit his eyebrows together at the mention of the last three. Victors, like him. Rebels, unlike him. They’d actually done something against the Capitol’s treatment, while he sat and took it all. 

“What about the other two?” He asked, his voice tight. 

“Natasha and Steve aren’t from Twelve. Tash came down from Thirteen, and Steve’s from Two. Won the 64th Hunger Games.” 

His throat clenched. Another Victor, just a year after his own games. He’d heard in passing Steve Rogers’ victory, but he’d been so deep in his own trauma that he didn’t even acknowledge it. 

“We all live on by relyin’ on each other.” she kept going, not noticing or merely not pressing his discomfort. “Katniss, Tash, and Steve hunt; Sam cures the meat and gives me lard for my soap; I make said soap and some ointments; Peeta bakes;” She pointed at the half-eaten loaf. “Sara and Katniss skin and tan the fur. Then Haymitch stops by for a crude comment or two, and moonshine. Doen’t drink it though, he swore that off years ago, jus’ makes it now.” And with a small smirk, “Finally, we got Red, Sam and Sara’s goat. Got a real attitude that one.”

“You make soap?” Bucky’s eyes darted to the massive pot still heating behind her. 

“Mhm, ever since I was a girl. My daddy was a coal miner, so my ma made soap for him all the time. So she could see his handsome face, she’d say.” 

A rough laugh escaped him. For a woman he’d just met mere hours ago, she was so kind to him. He’d known acknowledgement, camaraderie even on his way over, but this was genuine warmth. Homeliness. Something he hadn’t had in decades. 

“You should go down to Tash’s place tomorrow. She takes care of our cleaning, believe it or not, swears the forest’s water’s cleaner than the creek behind our houses.” 

“You sayin’ I stink?” She snickered again, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m sayin’, your shirt’s dustier than my shed, I think you could use some clean clothes.”

The rest of the evening was filled with quiet laughter, fresh bread, and even fruit from her garden, before Bucky left her home with the second half of the bread. As he walked the short path to his doorstep, he looked up at the stars that kept him company during his lonely travels, and smiled to himself. An entire community, built on respect and sharing. Maybe he’d find something here. Something worth sticking around for. 

-

deep in the meadow, under the willow

[johnnycadesmuse]

Can you do an older! Experienced!Dallas Winston x fem!reader smut??? I js feel like it would be so fire to write thattt

༉ ‧₊ ˚ angel

— older!dallas winston x reader

song 𝄞 angel by massive attack

warnings: pnv, fingering, nsfw, age gap (20-30 years)

"listen baby, I ain't gonna make you do anything you don't want to" is what Dallas told you as you laid practically naked on his bed, the only thing covering you being your undergarments.

he was hovering above you, the tent in his boxers making your heat ache and your patience wear thin.

"no, I want to" you replied, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, holding the back of his neck.

its not that you were a virgin, that's not why you had put sex off for so long— it's that he was experienced, very experienced. he knew every single thing about a woman's body, and that made you nervous. nervous because you barely knew anything about a man's. every time you had had sex with previous boyfriends, it was a quick one and done. they didn't care for your pleasure, only the time that you were too willing to give them. there was no exchange of respect as they would only use you for your body. the only times that you had ever gotten off was alone, and even that was difficult as you still didn't understand what you were doing.

they were never true gentlemen, they left you in crowds alone and didn't offer to get you a drink, only fending for themselves. they didn't even hold open the door for you, a thing strangers did more than them. to say you were disappointed was an understatement, because the relationships never started off that way. you were gullible and venerable, everything a man wants.

by the time you had broken up with your 2nd boyfriend at the age of 22, you were ready to give up. that was until you met Dallas.

Dallas was rough, yet kind. he was angry and intimidating, but still gentle with you. you were the only one that could do no wrong, and when you did do something wrong, he wouldn't burst into a fit of rage like he would with other people. no, instead he would scold you sharply before softly pleading to not do it again. and you would nod, looking up at him as he stroked your hair before laying a passionate kiss on his lips.

despite him being a lot older than you, you both found ways to make your relationship work. at first, your friends were weirded out by the idea of you dating an older guy, but after seeing him and warming up to him, they understood you.

and after 2 months of making out and feeling one another up, pushing his hands away when he got too close to an area you didn't want him in, Dally finally asked the question that you had been dreading. "why won't you have sex with me?"

you bit your lip, turning your head away in embarrassment. you had never felt so small, so insecure.

again, you weren't a virgin. but you weren't experienced either. the idea of having to tell Dally that no guy has ever gotten you off made you want to crawl into a hole. he was doing so well, he was practically the perfect boyfriend, and that scared you. you didn't want to be disappointed when you finally found out that it was all an act, and that in reality he was like all of the other guys you had been with: selfish, cruel, and bad in bed.

"if I tell you.. promise you won't laugh" you looked up at him as you sat on the edge of his mattress, Dally standing in front of you with his hands on his hips, nodding. "well, I just- no guy has ever made me.. cum before" you reluctantly told him, mumbling the last part so he could barely hear you.

"you mean you're a virgin?"

"no-no.. i've had sex. it's just that I don't really know what i'm doing and.. all of my past relationships were.." you hesitated looking down at your lap, "dissatisfying." you didn't hear a response, making you nervous and begin to pick at your nails.

you then saw him step forward a bit, him now standing directly in front of you. he lifted your chin up with his hands, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip. "no one's ever made you feel good before, huh?" you shook your head no. "mm" he hummed, slipping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck.

"don't worry baby, I know what i'm doing" he smirked at you, making you weak in the knees. his caring look and sultry voice was all it took for you to end up in this position.

your head was now laying against the soft pillow, your fingers nervously fiddling with your necklace as you looked up at him.

"i'm gonna touch you now, okay?" he told you softly, to which you nodded.

you lifted your legs and raised your hips, making it easier for him to slowly slide your cotton panties down to your ankles and off of your body, tossing them to the side. he kissed the skin of your stomach softly, his tongue warm gliding against you delicately, making you whimper.

his hand slowly slid up your inner thigh to where you needed him most. he ran his fingers through you wet folds, watching in satisfaction as your slick covered fingers. you whimpered at the sensation, softly playing with his hair.

he rubbed soft circles on your clit, making you moan. it hadn't even been 5 minutes and he already had managed to make you feel better than any man ever had. "shit" you whispered, arching your back as you fondled with your breasts over your white bra.

as your back was arched, Dally swiftly unclipped your bra, allowing you to slide if off of your shoulders, revealing your breasts.

Dally didn't wait a second to latch his mouth onto your nipples, his tongue swirling around the bud. you gasped, tugging at the roots of his hair, making him groan into your skin which sent goosebumps throughout your whole body.

he then slipped his fingers inside of you, immediately begin to pump in and out at a steady pace. you moaned his name, spreading your legs wider for him, making him smirk against your skin.

the cold rings on his fingers hit your clit repeatedly, sending shivers down your spine.

"feels good, don't it?" he asked with a cocky smirk, to which you could only respond in mumbles and whimpers, the pleasure overtaking your body. "yeah.." he whispered as he watched his fingers go in and out of you in satisfaction before passionately kissing you, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"faster" you whimpered into his mouth. Dally sped up his fingers, pumping them into you at an almost rapid pace, making you moan louder as you held onto his wrist for dear life. "i'm- gonna.."

"I know baby. be a good girl and cum for me yeah?"

your eyes rolled back into your head as an orgasm crashed over you. the sensation was different from your usual orgasms, better. they were more pleasurable and stronger when they were given to you by someone else's fingers.

your liquids soaked Dally's fingers, your breathing heavy as you slowly collected yourself. Dally softly peppered kisses against your neck, giving you time to slowly come back.

"was that good baby?" he asked, stroking the hair out of your face. you nodded in response with a smile, still in a pleasure filled daze.

"you think you can do it again?" he asked as he began to take off his boxers, his dick springing out, making your mouth salivate. you nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. "that's my girl"

he slowly rubbed his tip up and down your folds, collecting your cum from your previous orgasm. you held onto his shoulders as he guided himself in. you whimpered at the feeling of him stretching out as it was somewhat painful, yet it also felt good. he waited a moment for you to adjust before he began to slowly move again, moving one of his hands to your hip, the other beside your head.

"faster" you whispered into his ear. he began sucking harshly on your neck as he sped up, his fingers now finding their way to your clit, rubbing soft circles that made you clench around him. "f-fuck" you sobbed, tears pricking your eyes.

despite having never seen your body before, having never touched your most sensitive areas, he knew exactly what to do. it was as if he had explored you hundreds of times before. he knew what you needed before you did, and he knew about areas that made you tick that you weren't even aware of. "mmmmm" you whined as his thrusts got more aggressive, him groaning praises into your ear.

you felt the same sensation before bubbling in your stomach. "i'm gonna cum" you moaned, gripping onto his biceps for support.

"me too baby, cum with me yeah?"

and after a few more thrusts and a few more moans and groans from the both of you, you came together, Dally pulling out and spilling his seed onto your stomach.

heavy panting filled the room as you laid under him, your eyes closed as you were too fucked out to open them. "did so well baby" he whispered as he kissed you all over your face. "so well.."

after a few more moments of shared affection, Dally exited the room and came back with a rag, slowly and carefully cleaning you up as you were still sensitive.

he crawled under the sheets with you, your face now against his chest as he played with your hair, occasionally kissing the top of your head. "so that's what I was missing out on huh?" you said, making Dally let out a deep chuckle.

"yeah, that's what you were missing"

@r0seb100d @avroravia @johnnycadesslut @seilahdiaries

[nosecrinklewrites]

kylux who dated as teens, but it crashed and burned. when the worst of the animosity passed, they became friends again. they both have absolutely terrible taste in people and go through one bad relationship after the other.

in their thirties, they're both burned out. after hux's last and final disaster, they make an oath to never date again. it doesn't take long for kylo to get antsy. going on dates has been his main hobby for a long time. being free on friday night doesn't sit well with him. hux suggests kylo take him out. they're friends, so it won't be awkward. they already know each other, so they can both be themselves and hux doesn't mind being kylo's plus one, for whatever nonsense he wants to go to. it takes a lot of effort for kylo to not put his hands on hux. being tactile is a big part of how kylo flirts and even though they're friend-dates and not date-dates, kylo has a hard time stopping. hux has spent a lifetime watching kylo flirt – been on the receiving end as well – and is well aware. he can tell kylo feels bad and tells him to just go ahead and do it. it's not like it's gonna lead anywhere. if touching him makes kylo happy, then why not?

it goes well for a number of weeks. every friday, kylo takes hux somewhere new. they hang out, they have fun (kylo drapes himself all over hux). it's all the fun of dating, without the anxiety of whether or not they're a good match – there will always be another date. the lack of sex isn't a problem, per se. kylo has been single for extended periods of time before. he invests in a couple of new toys; it's not a problem.

until it sort of is.

spending every friday night watching hux suck on bottle necks and tumbler rims makes his mind wander.

"i miss kissing," he says, apropos of nothing. hux raises his eyebrow in question, after draining his glass. "are you a good kisser?"

"if this is you hitting on me–"

"it's not."

hux makes a considering sound. "i don't think i was bad when you and i ... you know. but i'd like to think i'm better now. by the looks of it, you are, too."

kylo grins. "been watching me kiss, have you?"

hux snorts. "hard not to, sometimes. you have no sense of propriety." kylo feels his cheeks heat up. "you're not as aggressive as you used to be. with me."

"yeah, well," kylo clears his throat, "you always complained about that."

"you never did take criticism well."

"you were my first kiss!" kylo says defensively.

hux considers him for a moment and smirks, "your first everything."

"oh, my god, you need to let that go," he groans. "i'm getting drinks. so many drinks – want a refill?"

"yes, please." kylo lets himself take a breather at the bar, but hux is still smirking when he gets back.

"thank you, darling," he says, sugary sweet.

kylo pulls the glass back out of reach, says, "don't pull that with me."

"pull what?" he damn near pouts.

"i never understood how you could do that," kylo says and hands over the tumbler, "hide how much of an asshole you really are."

hux shrugs. "pretending is easy when it's all you've ever done." he tries to brush it off, let the comment slide, but he has never been able to do that; not with hux.

"did you do that with me? aside from the obvious times, i mean."

hux looks at him and he can't get himself to breathe until hux replies.

"i don't think i did, no." kylo sits down next to him; closer than before he got up. hux runs a hand through his hair, says, "i never felt the need to do that with you." before kylo has a chance to reply, hux huffs, "you always saw right through me anyway."

"i don't think that's true. i just saw you." kylo grimaces. he can't tell if it's the alcohol or the countless dates they've been on, but, "i still compare every fucking relationship to us – to you. how fucked up is that? it's been twenty years."

hux looks ten shades of startled and sounds a bit rough when he says, "i don't think that's healthy – wait, what do you mean twenty?"

kylo frowns. "when we met?"

hux has had too much to drink to do math, but he closes his eyes and tries. "twenty. that's– that's a year before we started dating?"

"so?"

"what you're saying is you've been comparing every person you've ever dated to sixteen year old me? is this some– some convoluted way of saying you wanna get back together? you're a lying prick, kylo ren. this is you hitting on me!"

"so what if i am? would that be so bad?" he regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth, but charges on, "i know how stupid that is! i do! we were kids, but no one has ever loved me the way you did. i should've moved on years ago, but when have i ever done what i was supposed to? i'm stupid, hux, you know that–"

"kylo, stop."

"no! i should've told you fucking ages ago! i never should've let you break up with me–"

he doesn't get to finish before he has a lap full of intoxicated ex-boyfriend, enthusiastically trying to suck his tongue out of his mouth. "you're the most stupid man i've ever met."

kylo groans. no one does dirty talk like hux. the last time he had hux in his lap, hux was bigger than him. he holds on as tightly as he can, savouring every bit of it. "you promise?"

"i promise," hux says in between kisses. "no one makes my blood boil like you do."

kylo moans, already counting down the seconds till they'll be told to leave. "come home with me?"

"after only eleven dates?" hux hums. "a bit presumptuous, wouldn't you say?"

"grab your coat."

"what?"

kylo stands up and hux squeals. he bends down enough for hux to reach his coat and leaves the bar, with hux on his hip.

"where are you taking me?" hux asks, surprisingly fine with being carried like a toddler. "somewhere i can take your pants off without getting yelled at."

"i will yell at you," hux points out.

"i sure hope so," he grins.

.

x-posted to twitter

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

ALL look great at always but I'm going with for today: 🥩🥩🥩🥩🥩 (BEEF SEASON 3!!) 📸📸📸📸 🔭🔭🔭🔭🔭🔭 (gay burnt out disaster Eddie i am coming for you!) 🩸🩸🩸

YAY THANK YOU!

15 for 🥩:

---

“I can’t tonight, honey,” Buck says. “But we had a great day together, and we’ll see each other really soon, alright?”

“No,” Jee cries. “You’re gonna be with Eddie.” 

She sounds like a wronged wife, accusing Buck of galavanting off with a mistress. 

Eddie’s jaw drops. What the hell? They were friends a minute ago. Eddie fixed it! He spent all day fixing it! They were pals! They had fun!

“Jee,” Buck says firmly. “It doesn’t matter who I have plans with, alright? I have plans. It would be rude to cancel them.”

---

12 for 📸:

---

Eddie thinks. He doesn’t know.

“There are a lot of options,” Eddie says. “I think I was just never the image of a devoted, loyal son who does everything the way they expect. I think they’ve known that about me since I… I was a nervous kid. I think they’ve been disappointed then. And then… Then they didn’t approve of Shannon, I got her pregnant and married her anyway. Of course, if I hadn’t married her, they wouldn’t have approved of that, either. Choosing someone they didn’t like to begin with, I guess.”

“Okay,” Buck nods. “So let’s say Chris ends up with someone you don’t really like. Makes a life choice you don’t really agree with.”

---

18 for 🔭:

---

The look on Adriana’s face is downright smug.

“Okay, don’t rub salt in the wound,” Eddie scowls. 

“Wound?” Adriana scoffs. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to find yourself attracted to a hot firefighter that likes you back.”

“Well, the wound is me being so dumb,” Eddie grumbles. “And how do you know he’s hot?”

“I don’t, I guess,” Adriana shrugs. “Just picturing an LA model type in a firefighter costume. Is he hot?” 

Eddie’s cheeks heat. “Um… I mean. I think probably. Yes?”

Adriana snorts. “Okay, tell me about the date with hot firefighter, then.”

---

9 for 🩸:

---

Bobby is close to Athena. That’s what he needs.

He stays hidden in Buck’s Jeep while Buck checks in. Then, when Buck lets him into the cramped, dingey room, he leaves him with a threat. 

“I am driving down the street to Target to get you clothes,” he says. “Shower, rest, and when I get back, you had better be here. Or I talk. Got it?”

Bobby feels a little stunned by that.

[ihaznoclue]

I feel embarrassed rn😳

can I have a Tamaki Amajiki x fem reader smut? (he’s just the perfect bean boi)

Here have a fat bird so this isn’t hornily dry.

Pairings -> Tamaki Amajiki x Female Reader

Warnings -> Swtich!Reader, Sub/Switch!Tamaki, Riding, Giving Praise, Teasing.. a lot of teasing

Note -> Tamaki is a good boy as he deserves a award

Genre -> Smut

a/n - I'm gonna turn this into headcanons because I just had my 'important' test and it did not well for me T-T

🔞 Minors DNI!

TAMAKI AMAJIKI

🐙 Tamaki is very anxious with stuff like this, so you usually take the lead most of the time, he will start to overthink most of the things that could go wrong

🐙 But you always reassure him that everything will be okay and that he can relax while you give him his reward the he oh effortly earned as he saved you once again from a attack

🐙 He deserves it, even though he doesn't think he does but he really does

🐙 He would get so nervous every time as you look at him with those lustful eyes of yours as he looks away, blushing like a mad man

🐙 You LOVE to tease the hell out of him by blowing in his sensitive ears, touching them even, maybe caress his chest every once in a while, tracing his abs that soon flex under your cold touch

🐙 Maybe kiss him on neck a few times to know that he's doing a good job at relaxing for you

🐙 Praising is one of your go twos as you always tell him he has been a 'good boy' and that 'hes doing such a good job, obeying you' That sets him off as he goes into a full whimpering mode, head leaned back and everything

🐙 Now if Tamaki is mostly nervous about this whole thing, you always take the lead meaning that you are always on top of him as you ride him like there is no tomorrow

🐙 "AH! Hun~ Please.. slow downnn~" He whines as you just continue with the speed, bouncing up and down on him as you coo at him

🐙 Though I like to think once you are having struggles of your own, Tamaki will sometimes or try to take the lead, seeing how slow you are getting as he wants more pleasure

🐙 So he would grab your hips and bounce you more with his arm strength, he strong I'll tell you thats for sure

🐙 You gasp as soon as he does this, "Tama~! Fuck!" You moan out as you lean your head on his shoulder, kissing and moaning his ear to set him off the egde

🐙 After when you two are finally done, you two are just huffing and puffing as you stay there for a while to calm down for a bit

🐙 Tamaki on the other, is shaking from his very own invisible pleasure

🐙 Petting his hair as you tell him that he did a good job as he goes back to being shy, hiding in your neck as you can feel the warm heat from his face alone

MY PRECIOUS BOY <3 || To how much I can literally put for this man is insane

-A<3

[heartinhands]

Cloud stiffens immediately; the mention of Nibelheim makes a shadow pass over his face, receding into himself like his namesake. He swallows, lips thinning. Talking about Nibelheim is hard for anyone for a variety of reasons / he's glad Tifa isn't here. He raises his beer can to his lips and presses it there, considering. Cloud trusts Kunsel. But Kunsel is still SOLDIER and Shinra and getting him too involved is dangerous; Kunsel is still SOLDIER and Shinra and Cloud knows better than anyone how much Shinra paints Sephiroth as their golden boy, how desperate they have been to avoid talking about it because it'll be a genie in a bottle they can't put back and Cloud already doesn't want to put down his old comrade in the way he's going to have to. But that's how the cookie crumbles. That's what happens when you're the hero. You kill your old friends and defend your honor. Something like that.

He shakes his head; in a manner too brusque to be described as apologetic or maybe because it's Cloud it's the perfect amount of stand-offish and sorrowful at once. "I'm not giving you all the answers. I'm not putting you in danger..." he pauses, the word suddenly foreign when he follows up with, "buddy." A taut frown. Cloud turns his cup around a few times in his palms and tries not to think about it too much.

"Sephiroth isn't dead. But he's..." glassy-green-blue eyes focus on nothing except a small shiny artificial halo blooming on the edge of his can. It's terrible. I really admired him. Putting this in the vaguest possible terms so Kunsel will feel satisfied without making him want to learn more is going to be difficult. "Something happened to him and I have to stop him. He burned down Nibelheim, Kunsel, and he's not gonna stop there." A determined sip of his drink. "Don't ask anything else about it. That's all you're getting from me." For your own good. He gives Aerith a sort of similar look, one that's not quite begging but that implores them to try and be a little confidential about it nonetheless. There's a lot Cloud doesn't really remember about it anymore but he'll never forget those flames and their heat.

@spirestar

Aerith finally deflates a little once Kunsel agrees and she can't help it--Her smile slips back, only a quarter of what it should be, but she means it. "It's good to see you," an emphasis on you, on after all of this, on I really didn't think I'd ever see you again. And they'd thought about it. Leaving Midgar for the first time and probably forever, well. It wasn't something she did without feeling anything. And still, she says, "I'm glad for all of it. As hard as it's been, it's--We're going to make things right." They exhale a little laugh, a butterfly stretching out chrysalis-bound wings, and their palms press together in a familiar way beneath their chin. Kunsel looks as well as he can be and Aerith is grateful for it. He never stops. "That includes you, too, y'know?"

This pose makes it easy for her to see Cloud when he comes back into view, too. No longer a vague smear against the bar, a mirage in every way aside from his tangibility, but bright in the sunlight and vivid. Costa del Sol might be good for him if he'd let it be, they think. But then again, Aerith doesn't feel like she knows much of anything today. It'll pass, they're sure, but it's hard not to be off-balance. They will themselves to wave at Cloud as he picks up both drinks from the countertop and can't tell until he's close again what he got / What might be on his mind. "Thank you!" She replies once he's handed off the drink, smiling hopefully, her voice light, and when his focus falls back on Kunsel, it's Aerith's turn to take a drink. How can he sound just like--?? That's not the Cloud she's been trying to know. They stare up at his Chocobo hair for a second to hold onto that fact.

"It's true," she manages between one long gulp and her second. At least she has strawberry flavor in this trying time. The fact Cloud's tone isn't half-hearted and his words aren't clipped gives Aerith a bit of pause. Something again isn't right. He'd seemed upset with--Her at least, maybe both of them when he left. Their fingers catch on the umbrella and their gaze drops there, too. It's easier. Lets her take a breath before, "SOLDIER is lucky to have Kunsel after everything."

They mean it in the most basic of ways: Shinra should have lost everything after what they've done. Kunsel stays because it's the only way he can get closer to the truth. They're lucky to have him. She doesn't want to help him bring up his questions, not really, but she gives him the maybe-opener anyway. Because everything is mako and Nibelheim and SOLDIERs going missing and missions gone awry and redacted information and Aerith knows it.

@sentmail