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#i think the gifs are frozen but you get the point
mihotose · 1 year
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“There is a run where everyone does a perfect joke that absolutely sums up their time on Taskmaster, where everyone just stacks it.“
- Ed Gamble on the Taskmaster Podcast
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notmoreflippingelves · 3 months
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It's dawned on me suddenly
And for no obvious reason
That I can't go on
Living as I am.
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geeky-politics-46 · 4 months
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Kinktober 2023 - Day 7
Sex Toys with Bucky Barnes
"The Gift"
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Summary: You give Bucky a gift he never knew he wanted.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, sex toys, homemade porn, dirty talk, pet names, langcorn, reference to oral & vaginal sex, Bucky being a needy boy.
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Bucky paced back and forth, trying to avoid staring at the box on the bed. His fingers pulling on his hair and biting at his bottom lip, trying to find a way to direct his attention anywhere else, but his mind kept pulling him back. The ache between his legs was beginning to throb each time he looked at the box & let his thoughts drift back to you.
You had to know what even just your innocent little texts did to him when you had been gone this long. Even just a sweet "miss you so much, Buck" sent his blood straight to his cock. It gets him thinking about how you can be all sugar sweet around everyone else then turn into such a dirty girl the minute you get to your bedroom. Hell you loved nothing more than whispering something filthy to him right before walking in a room with someone else just to get him wound up.
He had no idea what he had unleashed the first time you two started getting a little frisky. He loved how you seemed a little old fashioned when you started dating. How you made him court you made him earn each and every little kiss. By the time you two had gotten to the point of sex being a possibility, he was nervous he would scare you away by being too aggressive. Little did he know what awaited him.
He will never forget the night he found out how bad you really were. You had been dating a couple of weeks and had the compound to yourselves for an evening, so it wasn't surprising when watching a movie devolved into a hot and heavy make-out session. He tried not to let on that you had him hard as a rock. He didn't want to put any pressure on you. Then, as you were adjusting to hook your leg around him, your thigh brushed up against his erection making him moan against your lips. He hoped maybe you hadn't noticed or, at the very least, were going to pretend you didn't feel the massive bulge in his pants.
You pulled back to look in his eyes, and he looked like a deer in headlights. He was terrified you were gonna slap him or never want to see him again. He didn't expect you to let out a dark little chuckle and bite his bottom lip. You sucked his lip into your mouth, then let it go with a wet pop before licking it once. He sat frozen as you moved your lips to whisper in his ear. Your voice dropped an octave as you spoke.
"Well, well, soldier, seems like you're enjoying this, huh? Enjoying having my mouth on you. Have you thought about what else I can do with my mouth?" With that, you sucked his earlobe into your mouth, and he let out a little high-pitched squeal he didn't know he could make.
"Maybe my mouth is a bit too much for now, hmm. Don't want you to blow just yet, Buck. What about my hands? Bet you've thought of them touching you. Stroking you all over." 
As you spoke, you moved one hand up to his hair, leaving the other wrapped around his neck, keeping him close to you. Accenting the end of each sentence with the particular touch you described.
"Thought about my fingers pulling on your hair." You purred, gripping his soft, short, dark brown hair and giving it a soft tug.
"My nails scraping down your back." You gently pulled your nails in a straight line down his spine, stopping at the base of it.
"My palm sliding up and down your chest", you let your hand circle his waist and slide up under his shirt, pressing your entire hand flat to the center of his strong chest. You could feel his heart pounding. He had his eyes closed and was trying to keep his breathing steady. His nostrils flared. He didn't want to let you know how close you had him to losing all control.
You paused for a moment, lulling him into a trap to make him open his eyes. You kissed his lips softly and sweetly. Innocently. Then, after rubbing your nose against his, you pulled back to see his beautiful blue eyes. 
Like a cobra, you struck. Using the hand looped around his neck, you grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. You rose to your knees, so you were looking down at him and slowly started pulling your hand downward.
A wicked grin on your face as you dragged the next sentence out word by word. You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.
".. and I bet that there's something else you've thought about my hands doing, isn't that right, Buck? Bet you've thought about it so much. Bet you've thought about it after every date we've had."
You could feel him inhale sharply as you touched the top of his abdomen. You slowly started to curl your fingers in, leaving just your index finger touching him.
"Maybe you've thought about it when you're in the shower..."
You felt his abs contract under your fingertip.
"I'm sure you've thought about it in bed at night too. I know I have, baby."
Your fingertip hit the top of his jeans, and just for a second, you stopped. Giving him a chance to push you off of him if he didn't want you to go any farther. When all that came from him was a little whimper, you let your fingertip continue over the button & down his fly.
"Bet you've thought about me touching you here. Thought about me touching, and rubbing, and stroking your hard cock. You feel even bigger than I imagined, baby."
After hitting the bottom of his groin with just your fingertip, you turned your hand and gripped him with your whole hand. Starting to massage his entire bulge. A loud moan escaped as he fought the urge to thrust into your hand.
He was now staring at you with his eyes wide & his mouth hanging open. What happened to the sweet shy thing who blushed when he brought you flowers? Here you were a little sexbomb on the verge of making him cum in his pants and you had only just started touching him.
From then on, you just kept surprising him with how dirty you could be. So, really, he shouldn't have been that surprised when he found the naughty little gift you left him when you went on your mission. 
It was the first time either of you had to leave since the 2 of you started dating, let alone having sex. You knew the both of you would be missing each other something bad. So the last night you were together there were lots of pics and few little videos. Bucky knew they were mostly for him. You were gonna have your hands full with the mission.
You had awoken something in him that had been asleep since before he became the Winter Soldier. He couldn't get enough of you, of your body. Of your perfect wet little pussy. He loved telling you that too. That was why you got him the gift.
It was a sex toy. A Fleshlight. 
He picked up the card and read it again:
Something to play with until you can enjoy the real thing again. I picked the one I thought looked the most like your best girl ;)
XOXO
Your best girl and your girlfriend too
He hadn't dared to open the toy yet. He wanted to, but he wasn't sure he could. His 1940s sensibilities were getting the best of him. He wasn't a prude by any means, but the idea of fucking a plastic toy designed to look like a pussy just seemed so... dirty.
Of course, that was also the appeal, wasn't it? Especially the fact that you had picked one you thought looked like your pussy. His pussy. He was curious if it really did. It was hard to tell from the outer box. 
There was no harm in taking a peek, right? You had sent him a message after you knew he had found your gift. Telling him that if he didn't want to use it or it weirded him out that he didn't have to use it or even keep it. 
He would just have a look and then put it away. Figure out his feelings a bit more before he decided what to do. He at least had to know if it did look like you. Although he would put money that it wouldn't be as perfect as yours. Nothing would ever be as perfect to him as your pussy. 
He double-checked to make sure his door was locked. Approaching the box and tentatively picking it up. He looked over the images on the outside and felt himself cringe. It felt like the naked woman on the box was judging him. She looked nothing like you and did absolutely nothing for him. He quickly unsealed and opened the box, and pulled out the toy wrapped in tissue paper. Not sure if he wanted to unwrap just the end or the whole toy. 
He decided to go right for what had him the most curious. The soft, skin colored silicone slowly coming in to view. He let the fingers of his right hand stroke the edge of the silicone. To his surprise, it did feel rather nice under his touch. Now, he was ready to reveal the toy fully. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away the last bit of tissue. A moan pulling deep in his throat. 
Oh fuck, it did look like your pussy. His pussy. His mouth watered and his pants immediately got tight. He couldn't tear his eyes off of it now. He let his thumb stroke over the fake clit on the toy and swore he could almost hear you shudder. Then he used his index and middle finger to trace the plump labia of the toy and momentarily stretch the hole.
He was right, it was nowhere close to as perfect as your juicy pussy, but it was much more tempting than he could ever have thought possible. He wanted to lick it like he would lick you, and he wanted to fuck it like he would fuck you. Was he really going to do this? He picked up your note and read it one more time, imagining the look on your face and the things you would say to him if you were here watching him. 
Yep. He was really going to do this. 
He quickly stuffed the paper wrapping in the box and threw the box under his bed. Pulling the blankets back on his bed and dropping the toy there. Quickly opening his nightstand and fishing for the bottle of lube. Throwing his shirt and jeans off as fast as he could before moving to lay in the very middle of the bed. That way, he could smell your pillow and pretend you were really there with him. 
The toy momentarily forgotten as he began scrolling through the various naughty photos and videos he had of you. Starting to palm and rub at his hard cock through his underwear. He could practically hear you saying how much you loved seeing him in his just his boxer briefs. You always said his cock looked incredible straining against the tight fabric. How they hugged his thighs and his ass perfectly. That you never thought a guy in his underwear could get you that wet.
Fuck you made him feel so good. He forgot all the things he hated about his body when you touched and praised him. You made him feel sexy. You made him want to show off for you. Making a very clear point of saying how all these photos and videos weren't just for him. Maybe he would send you a picture when he was done?
He stopped at a video clip where you were sitting between his legs, slowly taking off your bra and panties. Stopping to rub at him a few times or shake your tits at him. He heard his own voice telling you to pull at your nipples. His cock twitched at the moan that fell from your lips. He knew what was coming next, so he quickly set the phone down reaching for the lube and the pussy toy. 
He flipped the cap up on the lube and let some of the slick clear liquid coat the pads of his fingers just in time to hear himself tell you to take off your panties and show him your pussy. To show him his pussy and how wet you were for him. As you did exactly what he told you to in the video, he let his lube slicked fingers start to pet and stroke the outer lips of the toy. His long middle finger running a small circle around the hole, barely dipping inside before sliding back out and around. 
Once the toy was nice and slick, just like your cunt now on display in the video, he set both it and his phone down just long enough to pull his underwear off. He gasped as he felt the cool air of the room make contact with his leaking tip. He was wetter than he thought he was, clearly underestimating his own need. 
With his phone in one hand and the toy in the other, he waited until he heard his own voice in the video again. Waiting until he told you to come and rub your pretty pussy all over his cock. To get him nice and wet while you made your little pussy feel good.
The next video was a close up of his cock slotted between your pussy lips as you slid yourself back and forth against his shaft. He started to copy your motions in real time, letting the toy slide against his cock in time with your movements. A needy little moan falling from his lips when the toy caressed the ridge under the head of his cock.
His hips unexpectedly bucking a couple of times when he heard your whimpers in the video. If he closed his eyes, he would never think that it was a toy in his hand and not the real thing. It still wasn't you, nothing would ever feel as good as you, but fuck him it still felt so good. 
He couldn't hold himself back much longer, so he flicked to the video of his cock slowly sliding in and out of you cunt. He could never get over how incredible you looked stretched around his length, how his cock glistened with you slick everytime he pulled back out. Your swollen clit front and center and just begging for attention. 
He pulled his attention back to the toy in his hand. Angling it so his tip pressed against the hole of the toy. Adding just enough pressure to feel it start to stretch around his thick leaking head, just like your pussy would. A gasp pulled from his lips as the toy slowly engulfed his tip. Pulling it back up before pushing it down just a little more.
Repeating the same action over and over. Pushing down so the toy swallowed another inch of his cock, then pulling all the way up. Them pushing back down again until he had finally bottomed out. The video on his phone was momentarily forgotten. It felt incredible. So tight and snug and wet around his aching cock. 
His hips acting on their own as he started rutting into the toy. Whimpering as it seemed to suck his cock back in. He fought the urge to start frantically fucking the toy. As good as it felt, and holy fuck did it feel good, he still wanted to fantasize it was your cunt he was fucking. 
He let his eyes close again with his cock fully sheathed in the fake pussy. Quickly rolling onto his side and burying his face in your pillow as his hips started to thrust hard and fast. Moaning as your smell filled his nostrils. Replaying all the mornings you had woken up together only to have innocent spooning turn into fucking. 
Bucky let himself start to whimper little praises as if you were really there. His vibranium hand grabbed at the blankets and clamped around your pillow. Pulling them closer to him. His mind turned to mush as the toy practically sucked the life out of him. 
If he focused, he could almost hear you responding to him. Keening at both his praises and degradation. Saying filthy things right back to him.
“Fuck! Feels so good, baby. Always take my cock so fucking well. Can't wait to have you back in my arms. Can't wait to fuck you for real the second you are home. Miss you so much.”
He felt the heat of his climax building and his balls pulling tighter. Whimpering as he bit your pillow. Imagining he was biting and marking the soft, warm flesh on your neck. His flesh starting to tingle, and sweat starting to form on his brow. His hips thrusting so hard and fast the mattress was creaking. His needy groans and the wet suction of toy echoing through the room.
“Gonna cum, babydoll. Fuck, gonna cum so hard for you!” 
Bucky thought his soul might actually leave his body with how hard he came. Spurt after spurt of his warm release filling the toy. A faint thought in the back of his mind about the possibility the toy might start to overflow. 
Slowly his orgasm faded to electric aftershocks of pleasure. His breath still coming in gasps. His cock starting to soften, still nestled in the warm silicone that suddenly felt nowhere near as comforting as being inside of you. Even if it could give him an incredible orgasm, he was well aware that it wouldn't provide the loving and intimate aftercare that you always gave him. Snuggling his face into your pillow once again, he smiled as he thought about when he would get to hold you in post-coital bliss again.
When he finally caught his breath, he looked back to where he had dropped his phone earlier. The video had ended. Frozen on a closeup of your face with the most wicked smile on your face and the mischievous twinkle in your eyes, he knew so well. He wondered if you were missing him.
He hopes you are missing him, because fuck is he missing you; and your gift only  made him miss you more. He was sure he was addicted to you.
After going to shower and cleaning himself up, along with cleaning the toy, he noticed the light on his phone blinking. Reaching for it once he was settled back down in bed. Frankly, he felt exhausted after trying out your present. Flicking on the screen, he saw that there was a new text message. It was from you. It was an emoji of a smiling Devil followed only by three words.
Enjoying your gift?
--------------------------------
Back to main Kinktober 2023 masterlist
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maybankswhore · 1 year
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“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄.” “𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃.”
PAIRING: jj maybank x reader.
SUMMARY: you’re always there when he needs you.
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jj hadn’t talked to you in weeks. he knew it was wrong. to just , disappear the way he did. but he couldn’t keep doing it. the whole ‘relationship’ thing. it wasn’t that he didn’t love you , because , fuck , did he love you. but he loved you too much.
he loved you in the way he searched for your face in everyone he came across. always scanning for the familiarity of you in crowds. he loved you in the way that his heart would race when you held his hand , dragging him along the shore of the beach rambling about your special interests. holding on to every word , storing it in a part of his brain that he specifically reserved for you and everything you loved or didn’t.
he loved you so much to the point that it fucking petrified him.
and so jj did was jj was the best at— ignoring the problem and hope it goes away.
he thought he could just ignore you , forget you. erase the mere memory of ever coming across you.
he didn’t want to. he knew he didn’t. and if he thought about it too long he’d cry and cry like a little boy , clutching onto himself to help self sooth the pain he had inflicted onto himself.
it was better this way. he told himself over and over. that’s what he told john b when he was confronted about your absence. that’s what he told pope who could tell he missed you dearly. he repeated it to kiara who’d scold him about ghosting you.
this way he was in control of when it ended. you didn’t have the chance to leave him , to hurt him.
to abandon him.
and maybe that’s why he was so angry.
so angry to the point that all of that sadness and hurt mixed together and blinded him from the matter at hand.
so angry he’d get into a fight at the country club and earn himself a cell to sit and think about what he did.
jj was leaning against the wall , eyes closed as he hummed some tune to distract him from what was happening all around him.
“maybank!”
his eyes shot up at the officer who looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl and eyes roll. eyebrows up , he cocked his head to the side. “yes?”
the officer unlocked the cell door and moved back , glaring at the young troublemaker. “you’re free to go. ride’s here.”
jj jumped up triumphantly , saluting him in the process. he had expected john b or pope waiting for him outside , anyone really. anyone but you.
as he walked outside and saw you leaning against your car with your eyes wide with worry , he froze in his spot. immediately his heart thumped in his chest. looking around , there was nobody else around.
“y/n?” he said lowly , cheeks flushing in embarrassment. one because he hadn’t spoken to you in weeks and two because the first time he’d speak to you after those weeks were from him being thrown in jail for fighting.
your head perked up at your name , relief flashing over you. you practically ran towards him , throwing arms around his shoulders instinctively. “jj! i was so worried about you. i-i heard about what happened and they called me because i was on your emergency list and everyone else was busy when i called so—”
“you came?” jj’s hands were frozen at his side , his chest hammering into his head. “but-”
“you called.” you pulled away and gave him a small smile. “and i’ll always answer when it’s you.”
the weight of your words hit him harder than he had ever felt before. he had always been so used of being alone , or falling into john b and pope’s arms because the pogue’s were all he had— but maybe he did have you. maybe. . . maybe you wouldn’t leave.
jj held back the tears he felt begging to flow , and his arms felt like jelly as he wrapped them around your waist and held him to you tightly. your hair still smelled the same , you still scrunched the fabric of his shirt in your hands when you hugged him.
“i’m sorry , y/n.” jj mumbled into your hair , sniffling just a bit— holding onto his composure. “i didn’t want you to leave me.” he choked back a sob as he confessed all what he had been feeling , all what he was too scared to say then. “and i know that it was selfish and i know i don’t deserve for you to be here right now but i’m so fucking scared and i hate being scared.”
you sighed. you couldn’t say you weren’t mad or upset that jj hadn’t talked to you sooner , that he just stopped answering your calls and messages.
but jj was different. and he was special. and you knew he had never been loved the right way. and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect himself.
you rubbed your hand down his back soothingly , fisting the fabric of shirt. “it’s okay.” you assured him. “i’m not mad at you anymore.”
jj pulled away and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand quickly. “you should be. you should hate me.”
“i could never hate you.” you shook your head , cupping his cheek gently to avoid touching the bruised parts. “i missed you.”
jj held onto your hand that held his cheek , kissing the palm of it softly. “i missed you. . .”
you looked into his eyes and saw how he looked at you. and he didn’t need to say it.
you could be patient.
“let’s get you home , j.”
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nhoirr · 4 months
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It was the year of spring when you got the most lamest confession you've ever heard.
all from a man you'd never expect—nobody ever did expect that GOJO SATORU had the time and capacity to fall in love.
what a surprise, because he was too.
"go out with me," he states more than questioning.
like a giddy normal teenager that was not the most handsome man in the world—the, gojo satoru asked you out.
infront of everyone; without shame, oh but full of smugness that makes you want to reject him just to see his pride fall.
but perhaps the from shocking event did the thought not come to you that day, not when the pressure was all time high.
"This.." you start and the crowd quivers in their boots, boys and girls alike already demanding their victory from the bet, "this is what you greet me with after ignoring me for weeks, satoru?" the said man stiffens with his posture, and as if the bouquet of flowers he held felt the shift of the atmosphere—it dramatically wilted.
"oh, c'mon that was just—" he knew reasoning was futile when he gulps the words down his throat again, catching the way you glare.
and you spin your heel around. guessing with how he hangs his head low, you think he's discouraged enough to let it go and take the rejection.
but the man you knew was always so annoying, so stubborn.
you hear a call of your name but you don't snap your head like your-all-time-secret-is-out kind of surprise, but it's because the dumbest man spoke the dumbest words you've ever heard.
"I, the heir of the gojo clan, am insanely inlove with you!"
the crowd goes eerily silent, like time was frozen but not in a romantic way. It was embarrassingly awkward that you could hear the sound of a pin drop.
"what?" you spat out in disbelief, not comprehending his words and he takes it as another sign to repeat himself to you.
"I lik—" you stop him from talking by slapping a hand to his mouth, glowing eyes shimmering with the brightest smile known to man, "yes yes, don't repeat yourself!" you exclaim almost immediately.
your breath hitches in your throat the moment you feel his hand grasp your wrist, the one that covered his mouth and he points a finger to speak, muffled by your hand, "dso yu asekpt?" you could faintly make out the words he said—do you accept?
it syncs with the voice echoing at the back of your head ever since he confessed.
and yet, the answer always remained the same.
so you drop your hand from his mouth, catching the way his eyes follow your every move—perhaps enough to notice the hesitation, and he worries for the words you'll speak with such an expression.
quickly he starts before you speak, "Its fi—"
"I like you," he gets cut off, jaw slacked and unmoving in shock.
he blinks once or twice, but the crowd reacts before he can, waking him enough to respond back.
with a lopsided grin and dusted cheeks, he speaks again too—he thinks could be lost to the noise of the crowd, but with how close you were, he thinks you'll be able to hear even a whisper.
"I like you too."
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©nhoirr — DO NOT COPY NOR PLAGIARIZE MY WORKS!
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thanks for tuning in for another episodic brain riot of mine that goes no where!
want more? check out navigation for latest posts. <33 (shameless self-plug because.)
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dark-tides-in-faerun · 6 months
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Boiling Point (1/2)
Astarion x You!
Your party stumble across a hot spring in the wilds and agree to take turns bathing. It turns out, Astarion isn’t very good at taking turns but is more than happy to share…
🌶️mature🌶️ (fair warning that this chapter is just a little steamy but the next one will be very nsfw!)
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You lay on your back in the recently discovered hot spring, eyes closed, basking in the delicious warmth. If this wasn't heaven, you weren't sure what was. The moon lights up the little clearing you’re in, giving everything that it touches a lovely, silvery sheen, and you close your eyes and relax into it, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.
“Well, hello.”
You almost jump out of your skin.
“Astarion.” You gasp, spluttering up a lungful of water as you quickly sink lower beneath the surface, arms crossing against your chest in a bid to protect your modesty as you twist toward him. The water’s cloudy enough that he wouldn’t be able to see anything, but that knowledge does very little to make you feel less exposed. “What in the nine hells is wrong with you?”
“Nothing that a little dip couldn’t fix.” He quips, lounging against a rock, his face the picture of innocence and your eyes narrow as you notice he’s clutching a crimson towel in one pale hand.
“It’s not your turn.” You warn, narrow eyes meeting his as his carefully blank face looks back at you. You’d all agreed on a schedule for hot spring use and given that he’d already talked you into letting him steal all of your allocated time, it definitely wasn’t his turn.
“Oh, I know that.” He replies, the picture of unaffected grace as he looks at his nails and then back at you. “I just think it’s a little selfish of you to be… indulging yourself with so little regard for other people’s feelings.”
“Is it?” You say, slowly, and his lips quirk up in response. “Or is it a ‘little selfish’ to interrupt someone during the only time they’ve had to themselves in days. Especially when that person in question has already given up every other opportunity to bathe in the hot spring for you.”
“Yes, yes, that was very generous of you darling, but try to look at it from my perspective. You generate your own heat, but what about me? Do you know what it feels like to spend night after night in this frozen and miserable, knowing that there’s something warm and wet that I could sink myself into just meters away?”
His voice is innocent, but as his eyes drop to where your skin disappears beneath the water, the smile he gives you is anything but. It's obvious he’s trying to use your physical response to him to manipulate you, because he's always trying to do that and you flush, desire flooding to your core just as he intends it. But you're not just flushing because of the obscene way he's looking at you. It's because that smile has reminded you of how he looked when he returned from the springs last night. All pink skin and delighted exuberance. He’d been light, playful, exhilarated... Happy. And you knew enough about his past to know that happiness wasn’t something he’d known much of in his long life.
“Why can't you just go and bother someone else for a change.” You grumble, but the delighted shine in his eyes shows you that he knows he's getting his way and you scowl at him. “Gods give me strength. Turn around.”
“Why?” he asks, mouth blooming into a full smile and you can’t help the extra little flip your stomach gives at the sight of it.
“Because I’m naked and I’m not getting out with you staring at me. Turn around.”
“Darling, I’m hurt. Are you really suggesting we can’t share? There’s more than enough room for two.” He pouts, eyes shining as he stares down at you, sparkling with mischief and butterflies flutter to life in your stomach at the suggestion. You know he’s only trying to get a rise out of you but damn it, if it isn’t working. "Besides, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
You choke back a strangled laugh because it really wasn’t him you were worried about. The butterflies have gone into overdrive just from the suggestion, and you can feel the heat staining your cheeks a darker pink than the warmth of the hot spring. You stare up at him, eyes a little too wide, and he gives you a self-satisfied smile. You can see in his gaze that he expects you to balk. Expects you to surrender the hot spring and slink away with your pink cheeks and pounding heart.
Well fuck him.
You force a sweet smile, feeling a thrum of satisfaction at the slight widening of his eyes as instead of moving toward him you wade to the far edge and turn around. For a long moment there’s nothing and you wonder if he’s even still there.
“Well? Are you getting in or not?” You demand, proud that your voice is only a little shaky, and he lets out a laugh. You swallow, focusing on trying to keep your heart rate level as you hear the sound of rustling fabric and then the water ripples around you as he slips in behind you.
“You can look now, darling, I assure you I’m quite decent.”
You turn around and immediately regret not getting out when you had the chance.
There is nothing decent about the way he looks right now.
The moonlight floods the broad expanse of his naked chest, staining it an ethereal, shining white, and he looks like he was carved from marble. The steam from the water has already tightened the hair at the nape of his neck into little curls. He’s stark and beautiful in the silver moonlight, but it’s not even that, that’s most striking.
It’s his expression.
His eyes are closed, head resting against the grassy bank behind him and the little smile that plays at the edges of his lips is a million miles away from his usual shit-eating grin. It’s small and soft and decidedly content and you swallow. It’s the full force of the little smile you’d seen at camp. It’s true happiness, you realize and it makes your heart pound and ache in equal measure to acknowledge that you’ve never seen that particular smile before.
He shifts, lifting his arms from the water and resting them against the rocky edge of the pool, blinking up at you and that little smile dissolves into something darker. Water streams from his skin, running between the dips and crevices of his muscular biceps and you shrink into yourself a little, sinking into the water until just your chin hovers above it. There’s nothing you can do about your heart now, it’s pounding against your ribs like it wants to escape from your chest and his crimson eyes are fixed on you as you try your best to keep yourself in check.
“Happy now?” you ask, and though your voice is a little breathy you feel like the fact that you’ve even gotten the words out is a feat of heroic proportions.
“Very.” He replies closing his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at that. He looks more content than you’ve ever seen him and that thought triggers a reaction in you that’s so strong that you suddenly realize that you can’t stay here. He doesn’t deserve to be ogled like this, when he’s just trying to relax. From the little snippets he’s given you from his past he’s had enough of that to last several lifetimes.
You clear your throat and he opens his eyes again, one eyebrow raised questioningly you swallow, gesturing at him to swap places with you. He sits up at that, a surprised smile on his lips and you shake your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about your intentions.
“I’m going to leave you to it.” You say, your words only catching a little in your throat as he cocks his head to the side, looking at you thoughtfully.
“Leave me to what, exactly?” He asks, voice low and teasing, and heat rises beneath your cheeks as steam curls up in silvery tendrils around his chest.
“This. Warming up.” You manage, trying not to look at him as you edge your way around the to the other side of the spring, nearer to the grassy knoll, but you really need him to move out of the way if you want to make a graceful exit. “I’ll see you back at camp.”
“I can think of better ways to warm up.” He says, voice a little too innocent, and your gaze flicks to him before you can stop yourself. His eyes are fixed on you and the look in them is dark and predatory and you falter, heart in your throat. You’ve seen that look before, and you swallow as his gaze slips to your neck, the hunger in it apparent.
“I-I-“ you start, but your words die in your throat. The way he’s looking at you has melted your insides into a puddle of lust and your really, really need to get yourself under control. You take a breath. Blood. He means blood. You try to distract your pounding heart by thinking through the implications of what he’s asking. You’re no cleric, but surely bloodletting in hot water wasn’t the best of ideas... “Is it safe?”
He frowns at that, cocking his head to the side as if trying to work out your meaning and you swallow and touch your neck.
“Is it safe to feed in the water?” You say, again. He freezes for a second, and then some unreadable expression passes over his face before he quickly looks away. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have said it was disappointment.
“Of course.” He says, seemingly to himself, and when he looks up the expression has been swallowed up by his usual confidence. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I’ll take very good care of you.”
He holds out his hand and you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It’s not that you don’t trust him. If he says it’s safe you believe him, but you’re just suddenly very aware of your lack of clothes. You shift uncertainly, edging a tiny bit closer to him and a slow smile spread over his lips.
“I think you’ll find you need to be a little closer than that.” He says in a voice that spreads beneath your skin like treacle, and for the second time in one night you regret not leaving when you had the chance.
You shiver despite the heat as you place your hand in his and he wraps his pale fingers around yours, tugging you gently towards him. For one panicked second you think he's going to pull you onto his lap, but he stops when you're a few inches apart. You put your free hand on the grassy bank to steady yourself as he lifts your hand to his mouth, rotating it so that the soft skin of your wrist presses gently against his lips. He's fed from you before but, other than the very first time when he almost lost himself, he’s been almost clinical in his approach. Careful to only touch as much as he needs to.
This is not that.
You watch, dumbstruck, as his pink tongue slips out from between his lips to swipe a cool stripe across the overheated plane of your wrist. Your breath catches, a small hitch at the back of your throat, but he catches it and drowning crimson orbs flick up to meet your startled gaze. He does it again, staring at you darkly from beneath his eyelashes and licks another tortuously slow line across your aching skin.
You try not to, but you can't help but gasp, hand gripping tightly into the grass, and his pupils dilate with bloodlust as his fingers tighten against your skin. Gods.
“A-Astarion.” Your voice is breathy and tight, barely audible and you feel almost drunk from just this small amount of contact. He closes his eyes at the sound, a pained expression passing over his face as a shudder runs through his body, and then, before you can say anything else, his fangs sink into your wrist.
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darklordofthesimp · 3 months
Text
Anything VIII (König x Reader)
The 8th instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: No one make any sudden movements. I have returned. Excuse how rusty my writing is.
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension
Warning: Graphic Language
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What a sight you must behold. 
Sleepless, stressed and on the verge of your breaking point… again. 
It was no wonder that Saint watched you with deep concern, no wonder that they held their pen like it was a lifeline rather than just stationary. You wanted them to just understand, you needed them to know that you weren’t insane- everything was so elaborately planned and you were just on the verge of unravelling it. 
“Saint,” you rasped, “there are people in on this…. The brass. I think König too. It’s a fuck-fight.” 
The doctor leaned back into their chair, eyes never leaving your jittering figure. The sigh that fell from their lips released none of the tension balled tightly in their shoulders. 
“Birdy…” 
You stood to your feet. You didn’t want to hear it. 
You were sick of hearing people say your name in that tone: placatingly, diminishing your thoughts and dismissing you as if you were the local crazy. 
Maybe you were the local crazy. 
Is that how everybody saw you? Did everybody truly think that you were so off-kilter that you’d hallucinate a coup? You were a victim of assault- not insanity. 
“Stop,” Saint put their pen down firmly on the table, drawing your attention back to the situation at hand. “I’m listening. I’m just a little…  hesitant. It’s a very serious accusation, Birdy, but I’m not doubting the source.” 
You shot the medical officer a knowing glare. “Oh,” you drawled sarcastically, “because everybody takes me seriously at this unit with my history, right?” 
“I don’t give a fuck about whether anybody else takes you seriously,” Saint’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I take you seriously, Birdy.” 
The room was doused in tension. Your fingers curled to form tight fists, skin stretching over your knuckles until they turned white. You don’t know why you were angry at their declaration, angry at their loyalty. 
Maybe it was because you knew it was misplaced. 
Maybe it was because you knew you’d disappoint. “Yeah,” you sighed softly, relaxing your hands as you turned for the door. “That makes one of us.” 
_______
The walk to training always held some anxiety but this time it was as if you were drowning in it. Each step felt like a death knell and sudden dryness in your mouth made you want to turn back and run to the safety of your room.
You thought that you were well and truly past this. 
Apparently, you couldn’t get past anything. 
As you approached the door you were surprised to hear voices. No one ever wanted to interact with König, let alone at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. The room was always booked for the two of you at this time, interruptions were specifically warned against by Price. 
It’s just a conversation. You took in a deep breath. Not everything required a downward spiral, not all mysteries needed investigation. 
Literally just a fucking conversation. Get a grip. 
You straightened your shoulders as you approached the door and the dialogue became clearer. 
“Birdy will be here soon.” König’s voice was as familiar as your own. “You need to leave.” 
You pulled up short just before the entrance, frozen like a deer in the headlights. There was a short silence before a soft thud echoed throughout the room. It sounded like a hand being clapped over the shoulder but you weren’t sure. Could have been a punch, could have been a really intense kiss, who fucking knew? 
All you knew was that they weren’t meant to be there. Maybe it was Sunshine. 
Although you hated the arrogant fucker, it would relieve you to know it was them. They were inconsequential and, although they were annoying, they wouldn’t be behind your assassination attempt. 
Sunshine would have made sure you were in the ground, no matter the cost. Sunshine would have succeeded. 
Instead, the voice that rattled in your ears wasn’t your fellow coworker. 
“Just be careful. Wouldn’t want to jump the gun, would we?” 
Your blood turned to ice.  
Graves. 
You could almost hear that snake-like grin in his words, you could almost see the look in his eyes that was nothing but predatory. Phillip was charming when he wanted to be, but there was something terrifying about him.
Like a trap lying in wait. 
Like a traitor waiting to strike. 
The sound of sure and steady footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. Panic flooded your system, kicking your adrenaline into gear. There was nowhere to hide, not even a small nook in this god-forsaken hallway.
As Graves drew closer to discovering your presence, you bounced back a few steps from where you’d been frozen. Throwing your arms above your head as if you were stretching and squinting your eyes with an outrageous yawn was all you could pull together. 
Phillip rounded the corner with a cocky sway that made your heart race. You watched him scan your slowly approaching body, seemingly tired and unaware. You acted surprised to see him, carefully schooling your face to return to the usual lifelessness that it held. 
“Birdy!” Graves said, slowing his pace. With a flash of teeth, the corner of his mouth pulled upward into a knowing smirk. “Good to see you.”
“I bet,” you said monotonously, adding a dismissive nod at the end like a punctuation mark. 
Phillip’s smirk turned into a smile. 
“Enjoy your session,” the man said slowly. As he drew closer you could feel your chest tightening. He smelt fresh like he had just gotten out of a long, hot shower. You hated that he was close enough to smell the fucking body wash on his skin. 
His shoulder brushed yours as he passed by, setting your body alight with fear. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder as you trekked towards the gym door, eyes firm on that handle. His footsteps still echoed along the hallway by the time that you’d reached the entrance. 
“You’re late.” 
König’s voice startled you despite making direct eye contact with him. 
The man looked disgruntled, to say the least. His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over, and your guess was confirmed when he roughly raked it over once more. König’s eyes were looking anywhere but yours. 
“I’m not.” You’d meant for those words to have some bite to them but you couldn’t muster up the venom. Not when he looked like that. 
“You are,” he insisted with a snarl. 
You raised your hands up in surrender, eyes narrowing at his hostility. The urge to leave grew tenfold and so did your distrust for the man before you. There were too many things that pointed towards his guilt in planning your assassination. 
The way he’d tried to blow off your concerns, the vehement way he’d shouted for you to drop it, and now, his interaction with Graves. You thought back to your time in the kitchen when Phillip had first encountered you both. 
“Now, who’d have thought that you’d both be so… close.” He had said.
The Shadow had watched with intrigue as König stepped in front of you as if protecting you from him. If you really thought about it, most of his smarminess was aimed at the man beside you, rather than yourself. 
You swallowed and choked on your own spit. It was a distant reminder of when it had been your own blood that you’d coughed on. 
König’s sigh tore you from your spiralling conspiracies. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. His tone was quiet but his eyes were genuine. 
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “No, it’s fine. I get shitty when I deal with Graves, too.” 
But why was he with Phillip in the first place? 
You wanted to ask him, everything in you pleaded to seek out the truth. You needed to investigate-, you needed to know. Your mouth opened to get the answers you so desperately desired, but a thought made you stop in your tracks. 
What if you let on that you were suspicious of him? 
It was clear that you were no match against König. Your entire life had become interwoven with his and it felt like he was there in your every waking moment. If he knew that you suspected him, it would only put you in danger again. He’d busted through your bedroom door once and that was enough to tell you that you wouldn’t be safe from him anywhere you went. 
You distantly realized that König was watching you carefully from where he stood, jade eyes analyzing every quirk of your lips and every twitch of your brows. 
“What?” You said, feigning self-consciousness. “Admiring your handiwork?” 
The man shot you a glare and you prayed that was enough to shift his attention. 
“I hate it when you say things like that,” he hissed, pulling his jacket down his arms and throwing it aside. “Seriously.” 
“Yeah, well I hate having a chopping block for a face.” You tilted your head to shoot him a deadpan look over your shoulder. “Seriously.” 
“I cannot deal with you sometimes, Birdy.” König hissed. 
“I can tell,” you jerked your thumb towards your marred features. 
You knew that you were playing with fire. The way the man stood straight, his gaze narrowing and any sense of banter dissipating from his features, made it very clear that it was time for you to stop pushing that particular button. 
“Your attempt at deflecting is not as effective as you may think,” König said, his words slow and deliberate. Jade eyes bore into yours and your breath stuttered in your chest. 
You could lie to him, you could play dumb. He was dangerous and if you tipped him off you would be dead by morning.
You couldn’t make sense of that logic, though. If he wanted you dead, you’d well and truly have been dead by now. Your cheeks stung at the thought… you suppose that there wasn’t a lack of trying. Maybe it really had just been a failed attempt. 
“Birdy,” the soldier said, shooting a glance at the door. “I know what you are thinking and you need to put a stop to it.” 
Those contesting thoughts came to a staggering halt. 
“I don’t even know what I’m thinking,” you snapped. “What would you know?” 
König raised a brow at your tone, opening his mouth to deliver what you would assume to be an infuriating response. The words choked and fell from his tongue, though. There was a huff as he turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit and closing the door. 
You swallowed thickly. 
When he swivelled to look at you it was with a burning gaze that pinned you to where you stood.
“You bring attention to us in ways that will get us killed,” König whispered harshly, his accent was sharp and heavy with each enunciation. “You need to stop.” 
“Stop what?” You waved your hands at him. “You’re so fucking vague.” 
He flinched forward, pushing his finger onto your lips. You smacked his hand away like a cat pawing at something irritating. 
“Would you be quiet?” He snarled through gritted teeth. König took in a deep breath, casting another look at the exit. He was watching the light beneath the door, making sure there were no shadows tipping off an eavesdropper. Why was he suddenly the paranoid one? 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You lowered your tone but the urgency behind it was still present. 
“You need to stop chasing this lead,” König shook his head, gaze imploring. “You need to stop trying to find who planned the accident.” 
Your mouth went dry. 
“Is that a threat?” The words were a true whisper this time. Barely falling from your lips and only as audible as a soft gasp. 
König’s eyes widened. “What?” 
“Are you in on it?” You asked, taking a step backward. 
Bile roiled in your stomach as if mimicking a stormy sea. There was a distinct buzzing in your ears, numbing you to anything but the situation at hand.
“What?” König repeated. “What? No. That is not what I meant by that.” 
You shook your head, “the other day- the way you reacted says otherwise.” 
He reached out for your arm and you wonder if it was to comfort you or to detain you. You finched away from him but this time the man before you didn’t yield. He did not back down and he did not allow you the illusion of control. 
Instead, König held you firmly by your biceps. 
“I need you to listen to me, Birdy. We don’t have time for this back and forth thing that we do every time.” 
Rage tore through your chest at his dismissal and you would have told him as much had he not looked so desperate. Instead, you kept your mouth shut as the man watched you pleadingly. You would let him speak because maybe he had the answers you were searching for, maybe König would be the evidence to prove that these suspicions weren’t delusions. 
The man cast another glance towards the doorway before letting go of your arms. You straightened cautiously, being mindful to not rub at the skin he’d had contact with. 
“Well?” You whispered impatiently, waving a hand at him to continue. “You wanna manhandle me or do you want to talk?” 
“It’s not safe for us to talk here,” König’s words were barely audible. “You need to stop with your head-hunting. Stop asking questions.” 
His eyes were fierce, warning you not to challenge his demands but you couldn’t care less. He, of all people, had no right to be telling you when to chase answers.
He raised a hand before you could speak. “You are going to get us both killed because you gather intel like a child-” 
“What does that even mean?” You interrupted harshly.
“It means you have alerted everyone, Birdy!” König snapped, his voice harsh and his eyes flashing. “Whoever did this knows that you’re onto them. They know that we know.” 
You blinked dumbly, stunned. 
The man glared at you for a long moment, his chest heaving with laden breaths. The silence that eneveloped you both was anything but empty. There was a buzzing in your ears and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified that he’d confirmed your suspicions. Blind rage filled your lungs as if you were drowning. 
“You mother fucker!” You hissed between gritted teeth, shoving at his chest with as much force as you could muster. “You fucking knew?” 
“Of course I knew!” König bit back as he stumbled for his footing. “I’ve been trying to find them and you have been hindering me every fucking step of the way, Birdy.”
You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, you wanted to bash this man over and over just like he’d done to you. You weren’t insane but he was more than happy to intimidate you into thinking that you were. 
“How could you keep this from me?” Your fingers dug into the skin of his arms as you grabbed him. You wanted to shake the truth from the giant before you, rattle the honesty right from his mouth. “After everything that’s happened!” 
König didn’t so much as wince at your nails in his skin, fury simmered in his eyes like molten jade. “I was your main suspect and you outright told me about your suspicions while you were locked in a room with me, Birdy. What would have happened if I was actually everything you make me out to be?” 
You swallowed thickly, your fingers loosening their grip. 
“I could have killed you right there,” König continued softly, “at this rate you’ll die before you find them.” 
“You said I already tipped everyone off,” you rasped, almost meek in tone. “How have they not come for me yet?” 
The man rolled his shoulders, shooting another paranoid glance at the door. He continued talking as he scanned the room, searching for telltale signs of a third party.
“Everyone thinks you are disabled, Birdy, no one is taking your concerns seriously.” König straightened, levelling you with an evaluative glare. “But I knew better.” 
You drew in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before releasing just like Saint had taught you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought of your therapist. You told them everything- König was right. You’d mouthed off your suspicions knowing that Saint and Price were close. What if Saint had told Price? Then Price would have told Shephard and Simon and then- God. 
You’re so fucking stupid. 
Of course everyone knew, you’d practically blasted it across the unit’s P.A system. 
“What now?” You managed to croak. “What do we do now?” 
König frowned at you, his body falling still. “We?” 
“You’re not leaving me out of this,” you ground out. 
“We are not doing anything together,” he said, eyes roaming over your features quizzically. Your heart lurched desperately, there was no way you’d let him do this without you. You deserved to be a part of this, you deserved to get your justice and whoever did this deserved to die.
“You owe it to me!” You nearly raised your voice, fear trickling down the expanse of your spine. Not a fear of the man before you, but this time it was a fear of being left behind. Left to paranoia, left alone with your thoughts and suspicions and no one to hear them. 
König shook his head, “we cannot work together.” 
“We have to!” 
“We can’t!” 
Your eyes were wide and your chest was heaving as the man before you gripped your shoulders. He lowered down to a knee, drawing close enough that you were only a breath apart. You opened your mouth to offer a shaky response but the way his gaze ran over your features stole the words straight from your tongue. 
“I will not risk your safety again, Birdy.” König’s words brushed against your lips, warm but sorrowful. “That is what I owe to you.” 
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thisonehere · 7 months
Text
The Lin Kuei boys reacting to you falling asleep on their lap
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Fluff Headcanons
Bi-Han
Bi-Han isn't the type of man who usually shows affection. He never really understood how to show it and you were no different. So when you find yourself slowly falling asleep on his lap, He has no idea what to do.
He notices how vulnerable you are in this situation and is very gentle as a result.
For who knows how long, he just sits there frozen out of fear of disturbing your slumber. You look so peaceful, so beautiful, he doesn't want to wake you and ruin this moment.
He wonders about you, is he too cold for you, he isn't as warm as Kuai so he worries that he cannot provide as much heat as he truly wanted to give you.
He wonders more about you personally. Why were you so comfortable with him. Do... do you actually like him? Love him even.
Bi Han shakes his head. To much to think about for this night.
Finally building up courage, he scoops your sleeping body up in bridal form and carries you to bed.
He gently lays you across the bed and slowly drapes the cover over you.
Before l he leaves, he hesitates before finally deciding to lay a kiss on your forehead.
It's quick yet sweet. He immediately rushes out of the room in slight embarrassment at what he just did. But before he leaves he turns to you to look at you one last time.
"Sleep well, Y/n." He softly says, almost smiling as he leaves.
Kuai Liang
Unlike Bi-Han, Kuai has never shown any signs of struggle when expressing affection. So you being so close to him shouldn't bother him so much, but it surprises him all the same.
He is taken by surprise but far from unprepared.
He smoothly adjusts his legs, making things much more comfortable for you and getting you in a much more relaxed state.
He gradually begins to raise his body heat to the point where you can be warm.
Now, Kuai begins to hum a strange yet soothing melody and you find yourself finally nodding off.
He smiles to himself when he hears your snoring, he can't but find you strangely adorable in this state.
He just sits there some time. He fears moving might ruin the moment.
For this very small moment, all Kuai can think about is you
All the troubles that ailed him vanished as he dawned upon your face.
He can't help but think of you and him...together. He feels stupid and almost embarrassed to think these things.
His thoughts are interrupted as he notices just how much time has past. You should be in bed, not with him.
Easily picking you up, he carries you to your bed.
He takes you to your bed and softly lays you down. He spreads the cover onto you
"Good night, Y/n, my beloved." He softly murmurs under his breath as he leaves.
Tomas Vrbada
Tomas isn't used to showing affection, not to you at least. He doesn't even remember how things led up to this point, all he knew was that you were on his lap and he was terrified.
"What am I supposed to do?" He thinks to himself as he looks at you on his lap.
He doesn't want to wake you so he refuses to move, not even a single muscle. He'd hate to disturb you, you seem so at peace in this moment.
For what seems like an eternity, Tomas just awkwardly sits there as you rest in his lap.
As time passes, Tomas starts to look at you for what feels like the first time. He never noticed how breathtaking you were until now.
He knew you were beautiful but feels like the first time he actually realizes it.
Thinking like this makes him feel very weird inside so he attempts to think about other things.
He finally musters enough courage to pick you up and carry you to your bed.
He wants to think that he is just as smooth as Bi Han or Kuai would be, but he knows isn't. He's a little clumsy actually.
Finally, find a proper position to put yourself in to ensure comfort, Tomas slowly leaves the room.
But not before stealing one more glance at you.
"Sweet dreams, Y/n, I love you." He sighs to himself as he leaves.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
the same tv
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context
the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.
you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.
you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.
you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.
this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.
the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.
you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.
you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.
“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.
“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”
the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.
“i thought the people who lived here died.”
you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.
“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.
he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.
“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 
“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.
-- years later --
you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.
“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.
“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”
he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 
he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”
you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.
“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.
you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.
“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”
“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”
you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 
“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 
“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”
“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.
“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.
“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.
“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.
you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.
“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.
“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.
“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”
you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”
-- three months later --
“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”
you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.
“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 
you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”
“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.
“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.
“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.
“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.
“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”
“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 
you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.
you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.
rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.
you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.
“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.
“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.
“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”
“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.
you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.
rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”
“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.
rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.
you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.
the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.
by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.
“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.
you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”
things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.
“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.
rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.
you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @edszn @theoraekenslover
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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 2 months
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Sea Sickness
Sea Sickness
Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)
Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.
Requested: Nope. 
Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.
Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.
@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 
I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes
I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).
Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  
Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 
Word Count: 488
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Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 
“You feeling ok?” 
“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 
“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 
Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  
Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.
“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 
Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.
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pedge-page · 2 months
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Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time
Joel Miller x F!Reader
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Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.
Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always
18+ ONLY
- - - -
Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.
You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.
The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.
He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him. 
He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”
"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"
He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S  F O R  T H E  B A B Y.
It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings. 
But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor. 
He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.
You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter  and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up. 
He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.
You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.
.
The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it. 
Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.
"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"
You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field. 
"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.
"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap. 
 “Right. That."
You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.
“Can I have yours???"
He had only sliced 4 cuts  for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you. 
Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.
"You gotta watch the salt intake—“
“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”
“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”
“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”
“What about the fist one?”
“….We split that.”
“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you. 
“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?” 
-
You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.
"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.
Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"
"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”
His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“
"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable. 
He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”
You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.
30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.
-
You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”
Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”
He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.
Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.
His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?
Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.
And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers. 
"Babe"
"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"
"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”
You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”
He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now. 
"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby  this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)
"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."
You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!" 
He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.
“So how about it?”
“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”
“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”
He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.
Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.
You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.
He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.
Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.
“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.
You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time! 
-
It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy
"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water. 
“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.” 
"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”
Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "
“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”
Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”
You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”
Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.
Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.
He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.
"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.
But you don’t move. “No"
"Now.”
"I want an orange.”
"No. You—you just had your snack."
"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.
Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.
You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam. 
You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.
You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.
Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.
“Yes?”
"Peel it.”
He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.
Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.
You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“
Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.
You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.
“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!" 
-
He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and  cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”
Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.
“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”
You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.
You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time. 
“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”
The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.
You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more. 
It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.
He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place. 
“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“
His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.
“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.
Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn. 
Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you. 
You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.
“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.
Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him. 
If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.
Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”
“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”
Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.
He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight. 
- - - -
Taglist:
@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop
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heyo !! could i get dazai, akutagawa, and fyodor with a reader who is super clingy and just overall loves them? like all over them just constantly hugging them and sitting in their lap and squishing their cheeks. just the couples being lovesick 👀👀👀 tysm !
That’s so cute omggggg!!! Here it is!!! I think this might have been slightly less fluffy than what you had wanted, but I hope it’s still okay…. please feel free to request as much as you want, and don’t hesitate to be specific so I don’t fuck anything up 🥹
(I seriously need to try and write more lighthearted stuff. I feel like everything I write is so SERIOUS)
BSD Men With a Super Clingy S/O
In this post: 🍪 Osamu Dazai, Ryonosuke Akutagawa, Fyodor Dostoyevsky 🍪
Synopsis: How would BSD Men react to a super clingy S/O
Ryonosuke Akutagawa
Akutagawa never truly understood why you wanted to be so close to him. The first few times you had grabbed his hand or thrown your arms around him in a hug, it’s as if you had hugged a frozen fish. He didn’t know where to put his hands and you had had to tell him it was okay to hug you back. And after time and time again that you threw yourself in his arms, the cold mafioso started responding quicker, wrapping his arms around you, but he still couldn’t truly believe that you wanted to always be touching him, in some way or another, because you truly loved him. He feared he did it not deserve your happy smiles and warmth. But with your ever-present clinginess, Akutagawa slowly accepted the fact that he was loved.
You huffed, bored, throwing your phone away from you. It bounced on the couch pillows, almost tipping over the edge. You barely even looked at it, your eyes now glued to your boyfriend, Akutagawa, who was sitting next to you, focusing on a book. His light eyes concentrated on the story unfolding in front of him, his mind miles away. Akutagawa was immersed in his novel, that he didn’t notice you crawling towards him, a small smile on your lips.
You slowly laid your head on his thigh, inhaling his sweet and familiar scent that had meant home for you. Akutagawa noticed, but didn’t seem to mind, tentatively placing a hand on your head. You stayed still for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of his long fingers getting lost in your hair.
You soon started craving more physical contact, as you always did, and gave yourself a gentle push forward, now having your torso lie in his lap. Akutagawa only moved his book to the side to glance at you for a second, before he returned to his story: he was used to you being weird.
Once again, you stayed on his lap for some time, counting how many pages Akutagawa flipped. And then, suddenly, you threw yourself up, sitting in his lap and throwing your arms around his shoulders, pressing an avalanche of kisses on his neck.
Akutagawa’s froze, initially, unsure of how to react. His eyes stuck to yours, the silence pressing around you. “What are you doing, (Y/N)?” He asked, staring down at you, his voice harsh. He was somewhat used to you being attached to his hip permanently, always needing to feel his skin on yours, but he still needed some time to adjust. His hands were rigid, frozen, away from your body. You grabbed his stiff arms and wrapped them around your waist.
“I’m cuddling you, what does it look like I’m doing?” You asked, peeking up at him through your lashes. Akutagawa stayed still for a few more interminable seconds, gazing at your loved-filled eyes, before he finally relaxed into your embrace, throwing the book aside. His hug was, initially, tentative, and slowly became stronger, to the point where he was holding you as if his life depended on it.
Akutagawa’s hugs were always like this, and you adored it: it was if he slowly let himself go to the idea of being loved. Yes, you were naturally a clingy person, but you also did it to help Akutagawa’s bruised heart feel all the love he deserved. Maybe the universe, to make up for all the affections he hadn’t received, had sent you and your warm hugs to him. As Akutagawa pressed you tighter against his chest, he could not help the small smile that appeared on his lips.
Osamu Dazai
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Dazai was as clingy as you were, sometimes even more than you. He constantly searched for you, holding your hand, or wrapping his arms around you when you two were lying in bed. Anytime he could, he would lift you by the hips and place you snugly in his lap, and keep you there, like a warm koala, as he worked, or well, pretended to work. Whenever you initiated anything, which was almost always, he responded happily: you hugged him first, he hugged you harder. Dazai didn’t want to admit that constantly having to touch you was not only fueled by the disproportionate love he had for you, but also the constant fear that you could be ripped away from him at any moment. Dazai mind also plagued him with the knowledge that you were too good for him; having you constantly search for him, as if he were your oxygen, reassured him more than he would ever admit.
You tried finishing the report you had to hand in by the end of the day, but your mind was just too clouded, and writing a sentence felt like navigating through fog without any guidance. Your eyes kept anxiously sliding down to the clock on your desk: Dazai was coming back from a week-long mission, and you yearned for him. You needed to feel his warmth envelope him in a soul-crushing hug, you needed to feel his cologne, you needed him.
Kunikida, who had been walking past one of the large windows in the ADA office, glanced outside. He turned to look at your hope-filled eyes, and he nodded, a small smile on his usually stoic face.
You stood up so fast your chair toppled over, but you didn’t mind, sprinting down the hallway, almost jumping down the stairs instead of taking the elevator. You threw the front door open, finding Dazai standing there, in all his glory. His warm, brown eyes were tired, and had lost their usual sparkle. But when he saw you, a small smile danced on the corners of his lips. Dazai opened his arms, whispering, “Hello, belladonna.”
You threw yourself in his arms, hiding your face in his neck. “Dazai!” You cried. You felt his bandaged arm fall delicately around your shoulders, pressing you against him. The minute Dazai smelled your sweet perfume, he felt at peace; he knew he was home. The calm he felt when you were squishing him against you in a hug was only proof of what he already knew: you were his North Star, the reason of his existence, the moonlight in his dark life.
Dazai’s head rested against yours, and you could swear was shivering in your arms.
The minute Kunikida called him, leaning from the window, Dazai’s cheerful smile returned with strength, and his tiredness evaporated, his eyes no longer tired, his vulnerability covered by his perpetual joy. He pulled away from you, going to stand underneath the window to chat with his partner, but you knew what he was truly hiding and didn’t let his hand go.
For the rest of the day, you stood next to Dazai, holding his hand or his arm, and when no one was around, you wrapped your boyfriend into hugs, pressing him closer to your heart.
Dazai was used to having some part of his body always be in contact with yours, but today, more than ever, he was thankful that you were clingy, becasue he needed your gentleness and your warmth to not collapse on the ground and start shivering from all the darkness that he hid inside his heart.
After all, your clinginess was his salvation.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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Fyodor, before meeting you, had never tolerated anyone barging into his personal space. If anyone suddenly touched him, he would make them pay the price of the disrespect tenfold (Nikolai could personally testify to that). But the minute you and your angelic smiles had stepped into his life, he suddenly had to get used to you constantly touching him, for one reason or the other. His personal space was no longer his, it was yours, and, with a small thump in his heart, he realized he didn’t really mind anymore. His cold body craved your warmth, and, of course, he would never, admit how much he adored your hugs, or the way you constantly needed him for such trivial things. Slowly, your ever constant need to be pressed against him has warmed his heart
Fyodor was sitting in front his computers, the blue light shining on his breathtaking eyes. He was concentrated, his fingers flying on the keyboard. You were observing him from the door, having cracked it open. You were debating whether or not he would mind if you waltzed in and started talking to him.
“Myshka, you’re letting a draft in. Either come in, or come out.” Fyodor’s sharp voice resonated in the room. You flinched: you had been almost positive he hadn’t noticed you, but who were you kidding? This is Fyodor Dostoyevsky you were talking about.
You sighed, slipping in and shutting the door behind you. “Sorry, Fedya.”
“No grave damage was made, my dear. What brings you here?” Fyodor asked, still typing on his keyboard.
“You.” You replied, sauntering over to him, knowing that if he had given you the chance to slip inside, and was engaging in conversation with you, he was okay with getting disturbed. You draped yourself over his shoulder, your face next to his. You kissed his cheek a few times.
“Me?” Fyodor asked, finally turning to look at you, his monitors forgotten for once. “Do you mean my body? If you are aroused, my dear, I fear I can only please you for a short while — ”
“No, not like that!” You chuckled. You gently spun his chair around, making him fully face you. “I just want to be with you!” You said, falling into his arms. Fyodor, who was used to catching you as you threw yourself dramatically in his arms, had already been ready. You giggled like child, looking up at your cold, evil mastermind boyfriend who no longer seemed to react to your behavior. You extend your hands, placing them on his cheeks.
Fyodor furrowed his brows, gazing down at you inquisitively. Before he could ask what you were up to, you smushed his cheeks together, laughing so brightly Fyodor was sure he had fallen even more in love with you, even if he only admitted it to himself with a pinch of annoyance.
No one could have had the honor to smush his cheeks and walk away alive and unharmed, but this was you, his (Y/N), and so he only looked down at you, raising an eyebrow sarcastically. “You look like a chipmunk!” You giggled, moving his cheeks around.
“‘M gld I’muse you drling.” Fyodor spoke, his words pressed together as his cheeks were. The joy that lit your eyes at the simple, childish joke, made Fyodor’s own heart tremble with happiness.
You removed your hands from his cheeks. “Had your Fyodor quota filled, milaya?” Fyodor asked.
“No. I’ll never have my fill.” You smiled at him, pulling yourself up, aided by your boyfriend’s cold hands, to settle comfortably on his lap, and wrap your arms around his neck, deciding to stay there a while, closing your eyes to relax.
Fyodor pressed a kiss to your forehead before he returned to his work, a hand slipped inside your shirt, tracing lines on your back.
Fyodor didn’t know when his personal space had become your space as well, but he couldn’t be happier that it had.
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luvyeni · 10 months
Text
❛BRUISES AND BALLET SHOES❜ ( l. jeno )
💬nia's notes: based on this drabble. is this late? absolutely but was hidden with all the other unfinished drafts.
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p. badboy!jeno x goodgirl!reader w. 1.5k+
warnings? unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk , name calling.
— 𖦹 ( jeno gets into a fight and almost misses your preformance ) !
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you peeked your head out the curtain — the reserved seat still empty as people began to fill up the stadium. you pouted , closing the curtains. 'where is he? he promised he'd make it'
"(name)?" your director tapped your shoulder. "you okay?" you nodded. "good , we need you ready , there are a lot of people here to see you." you smiled , shaking your head. "i'm alright." there were many people here to see you , but not the one you wanted.
"jesus you guys look like crap." renjun sat at the computer as the rest of them came limping back in. "yeah well we can't all stay behind the computer." haechan opened up the freezer , grabbing a frozen pack for his eye. "some of us have to fight."
normally jeno would've entertained them , but he looked at the clock and went into panic mode , he was gonna be so late. "shit." he hopped up , looking into the mirror. "what's your problem?" he ignored chenle , he had bigger problems — he had a black eye and multiple little cuts littered all over his face. "she's gonna kill me."
he grabbed his helmet , normally he didn't wear it , but he was going to see you and he knew you'd be upset if he didn't. "what are those?" haechan laughed , pointing to the pink glitter stickers scattered all over the helmet. 'so you'll know what one is yours.' he remembered your voice. "she put them on there , are you laughing at her?" mark jumped in before jeno beat haechan to pulp. "haechan stop it."
he really didn't have time anyway. "i'm leaving." he rushed out , he'll make it if he rushes , jumping on to his bike , putting his sparkly helmet on before speeding off.
"(name) , you have to go on now , the show is about to start." your director called , you sighed , nodding. "okay." you made your way to the side of the stage. "you can do this." you said to yourself. 'i just hope he's safe and not in any trouble.'
he made it just in time , handing the lady — who definitely thought he was in the wrong with all the bruises on his face the ticket. "thank you." he ran to the to concet hall , swinging the door open , just as the music started.
everyone gave you a standing ovation , you were incredible , so graceful. you took your final now , before making your way off the stage where everyone was waiting to give you hugs and congratulations. "thank you everyone." you said smiling.
"we're all gonna go out and celebrate." your director said , you really didn't want to , just wanting to go home and crawl into a ball. "honestly i just wa- baby." you turn around upon hearing his voice. "jeno!" you smiled , the first real one of the evening. "maybe next time , excuse me."
you ran over to him , running straight into his arms. "you made it!" he smiled as your eyes lit up. "of course i did you were amazing , you'd really think i'd miss your preformance?" you pouted. i thought you got caught up." you finally noticed his face. "you were out fighting again."
he frowned , "baby it's apart of the job." you touched his busted lip , he hissed in pain. "eh , i told you to be careful , let's get you home so i can fix you up." you grabbed his hand , guiding him to his bike. "put your helmet on." you said. "baby." he whined. "now , you don't need anymore bruises on your face."
"ow , baby that hurts." he hissed as you sat on his lap , applying the alcohol to his busted lip. "you should've thought about that when you were out fighting." you scolded. "you told me you'd calm down." he sighed. "i know princess , but you know it's not easy."
you finished him up , throwing the trash in the bed next to the bin. "renjun's girlfriend said he never comes home with bruises." jeno rolled his eyes. "that's because renjun sits behind a computer." he kissed your lips. "maybe you should do that then."
he laughed , kissing your pouty lips again. "i'll ask mark next time." you knew he wouldn't , he loves the thrill too much , but you decided not fight it. "now let me give you some love as a reward for a fantastic show." he kissed your neck , making sure to mark you up. "j-jeno , no marks , my director is gonna be pissed."
"good." he said , leaving a few more. "maybe he'll get the hint that you don't want to fuck him and that you're taken." he growled against your skin , your panties soaking , his jealousy was always a bit of a turn on.
he flipped your bodies around , hovering over yours. "you're getting jealous for nothing." he lifted the shirt you stole from him above your hips , revealing your pink panties. "such cute panties."
you whined , squirming around impatiently. "calm down." he stilled your hips. "so eager to have your little pussy stretched , i have go make sure you're ready for me." he said , pulling your panties down your leg. "look how wet you are."
he toyed with your clit , rubbing slow circles to annoy you. "j-jeno , please." you whined. "n-no teasing." he chuckled at how needy you could be. "okay baby , okay , i won't tease." he pushed a finger into your hole. "fu-fuck jeno."
he moved his finger , watching your cunt suck in his finger. "fuck princess , only one finger and you're barely taking it." you moaned. "a-another." you barley got out , he cooed. "you want another?" he added another , your juices soaking his hand. "so wet baby , you're making such a mess on my hands."
"j-jeno." you moaned out. "jeno , im gonna cum." he curled his fingers up. "fuck , im cumming!" you screamed out , he pulled his fingers out , bringing them to his lips , tasting your reminisce. "just as sweet princess."
he pulled his sweats down , his cock springing out , hitting his abdomen. "look at you drooling over my cock , you want it in your mouth?" you eagerly nodded , he chuckled. "maybe next time baby." he rubbed your folds with his hard cock. "i really need to split you open with my cock."
he slowly pushed his cock into your cunt , your hole clenching around his tip , squeezing him. "fu-fuck, no matter how many times i fuck you." he groaned. "you're always so fucking tight."
he finally bottom out , holding your legs around his waist , rocking into you. "s-so big." you moaned , jeno was on the bigger side , so it was always a tight fit when he was fucking you , but it felt good , the way he stretched your poor cunt out. "yeah , but you always take my cock like a good girl."
"f-faster." you stuttered , he listened , fucking into you faster , hitting your cervix. "j-jeno , fuck!" you screamed , he groaned , holding on to the headboard. "oh fuck , you feel so good , moaning my name like a slut." he growled.
"e-everyone thinks you're such a good girl -shit- they don't see it when you're screaming my name like a whore , letting me stretch your tiny cunt out on my cock." he moaned. "ngh fuck , gonna cum in this tight cunt." you felt it coming , your orgasm about to hit you like a ton of bricks. "gonna cum."
"you can cum princess , cum all over my cock , so i can breed you , fill you with my cum." he felt his orgasm , holding it , waiting for you to finish. "would you like that?" he grunted. "for me too breed you? make your stomach all round." you nodded dumbly. "p-please."
"fuck- then cum for me." on his comand , you came , tightening around so tight you almost pushed him out. "oh fuck , fuck im cumming." he grunted , his cum filling you up. "sh-shit jeno." you mewled. "t-too much." he kissed your lips. "you can take it , your a big girl." he whispered. "you can take it."
"fuck look at that." he slowly pulled out of , his cum leaking out. "your tummy all bulged because of my cunt." you whined. "such a good girl , taking all of me like that." he praised.
he helped you get cleaned up , he was really inattentive when it came to things like this , making sure to be softer , washing your skin with your favorite sent , putting a towel in the dryer so it can be warm for you when you get out , wrapping around you.
you laid in bad , tracing his tattoos as he play with your hair , your favorite movie playing on the tv , your laughter breaking him away from it. "what's so funny?" you shook your head. "nothing." you smiled. "it must be , you're so giggly princess , what is it?"
"it's just that , to everyone you look so scary , but in here you're like a little puppy." he whined. "stop that." you chuckled. "i already get made fun of because of those stickers you put on my helmet." he said and you pouted. "then take them off." he pulled you closer , kissing your forehead. "and why would i do that?"
"my favorite girl did that , im keeping them even when they fade."
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©️LUVYENI
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superhaught · 2 months
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Just Seven Minutes
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Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader
Warnings: explicit smut (18+ MDNI)
Word Count: 3300, Part 1/?
Part 2
Reader and Leighton are paired up for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven at a Theta party.
Explicit Content Below! Read at your discretion.
You made the mistake of watching from within the crowd. You should have known better. A frat party, a lockable storage closet, and liquor did not mix well. 
Your stomach dropped when the shirtless fraternity brother pointed directly at you, “You. Come on.”
“No, no… I’m just watching…” you protested. 
“Them's the rules, pal. If you watch, you are liable to participate.” Suddenly, people were pressing on your back and pushing you forward until you stumbled into the center of the circle with him. He looked at you, “alright, what are you into?”
“What?” 
“Boys? Girls? Both? Anyone? Come on, what are you into?”
“Oh…” you could feel yourself shaking, your palms getting clammy, “girls…” you answered. 
The guy caught a glimpse of a blonde head trying to escape the crowd of onlookers. He pounced on the opportunity, “Ah, not so fast, Murray. I pick you.”
Your stomach dropped further. Murray? Murray?
You were frozen. There was a slight scuffle amongst the people surrounding the blonde. You think you heard someone tell her, “it’ll be fine.” Then she was pushed into the center just as you were. 
Leighton Murray. Rich. Brilliant. Popular. Stunning. Recently out as a lesbian among the student body. Recently out of not one, but two committed relationships. Likely only here because her roommates made her. 
You knew these things about her partially by way of the Essex grapevine, and partially also because you had been nursing a painful crush on her since Freshman fall. 
She didn’t make eye contact with you, so you resorted to looking at the floor and praying for a sudden meteor strike in Vermont. 
The frat bro began, “Alright, you know the deal. Seven minutes in the closet, no less. What you do in there is your business. The timer will go off at seven minutes but no one will make you come out until one of you knocks. And the necessary disclaimer, we can hear everything and that’s what makes it fun for us. Now, you both have the option to agree or to chug the cup.” He gestured in reference to a full red solo cup sat upon a table in front of you. It was filled with mystery liquid, a combination of the participants' drinks. You can’t imagine that anyone in their right mind would choose to chug. 
The brother turned to you, “okay, closet or chug? What’ll it be?”
You took a deep breath, “closet.”
“Hell yeah!” He grabbed your wrist and held your arm up in the air like a champion wrestler and the crowd joined in on cheering. Then, he faced Leighton, “and you? Closet or chug?”
Leighton rolled her eyes, “closet.” 
The cheers became nearly deafening as the man lifted Leighton’s hand into the air as well and then you were both quickly ushered into the closet, the door locked behind you. 
It was a ridiculously stupid game. You shouldn’t have even been entertaining it by standing in the crowd. You shouldn’t have even come to this party. The only people who enjoyed this were the ones tipsy enough to find it funny, or horny enough to use it as an opportunity. If the crowd outside didn’t hear anything worthwhile happening, they’d shout through the door to stress you out and be disappointed if you left the closet without having done anything. If they did hear a show, though… they’d cheer for you upon your exit and everyone would be talking about it for weeks. 
You stepped toward the back wall of the closet and slumped against it, sighing, but not wanting to be the first to speak. 
Leighton kept a respectful distance from you and just glanced around the dingy closet with a look of disgust on her face. She wasn’t looking at you with disgust. Well, she wasn’t looking at you at all. But then you realized that you were looking at her and you quickly averted your gaze. 
Time seemed to move at a snail's pace. Neither Leighton or you wanted to say or do anything, apparently. You quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you would spend the next seven minutes locked in a closet with a woman who you were deeply attracted to without a word shared between you.
To your shock, she broke the silence, “you’re in my calc class, right?”
You looked up at her and almost choked when you tried to respond. You cleared your throat and tried to play it off, “Yeah, I am.”
She nodded, “thought so. I’ve noticed you before.” You hoped that she couldn’t hear your heart pounding.
“I… I’ve noticed you, too.” 
She smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder playfully, “hard not to. I’m amazing.”
That. That is what gets you everytime. She was amazing and she knew it and that was so fucking hot to you. You had to bite your lip to silence yourself. 
She continued, “for the record, I think this whole situation is bullshit.”
“Uh, me too.” You agreed.
The blonde lazily examined her manicured nails as she spoke, “with that being said, I would rather make the most of it than not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… we could ya know, see what happens…”
Your jaw dropped, “wait… are you saying that we should… what? Make out?”
“Well, do you want to?”
Your head was spinning. Of course you wanted to. But now she was standing right there and you couldn’t make yourself speak.
She shook her head, “nevermind… forget it.” She moved to take a step away from you and all you could think to do was to reach out for her. You gently grabbed her wrist and stopped her. 
“Wait,” you began, “I didn’t say ‘no’...”
She turned and looked at you, actually meeting your eyes for the first time. She was anxious, too. You could see it now. You dropped her wrist.
“Leighton…” her name tasted so sweet on your tongue, “I… I won’t kiss you… unless I know that you really want it…”
You watched as her eyes flitted down to your lips then back, “I want it… I want you… does that answer your question?”
This had to be a dream. You were certain of it. But then, it was only just a dream and nothing bad could happen from kissing Leighton Murray in your dreams. 
“It does…” you respond. 
Leighton stepped a little closer to you. Your shoulder blades pressed against the wall behind you. She leaned in, her lips suddenly only a couple inches from yours. She locked her gorgeous blue eyes on yours, waiting. She wanted you to go for it. 
You whisper shakily, “you’re sure?”
The corner of her mouth raised into a cheeky smile and she nodded emphatically. 
Between your blood pounding in your ears from the anticipation, people outside of the closet cheering lewdly, and the tickle of her warm breath on your chin, you couldn’t think anymore. 
You snake a hand to the back of her neck and twine your fingers into her soft, blonde hair as you make the move to pull her in the rest of the way and close the distance. You hear her breath hitch as your lips connect, and the two of you quickly find a comfortable position for your bodies to be in. You bring your other hand to the small of her back, holding her over her blouse. She leans her weight onto you as she drapes her arms around your shoulders and buries her fingers into your hair. 
You exchange a few tender kisses as you shift to cradle the side of her face in your hand and kiss her softly. Feather light brushes of your sensitive skin against one another as you pull her just a little closer by her waist. But the softness isn’t enough and soon, all you can feel is heat and you begin to deepen the kiss. Your lips part and you lightly graze your tongue against her bottom lip. She shudders and allows you entry, meeting your tongue with hers in a short-lived fight for power that she quickly cedes. 
You let out a moan from your throat that she only echoes. She presses herself against you more forcefully and kisses you harder and you match her at every step. Everything felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t help it, you had to pull back for a second to catch your breath. Your chest heaved and you opened your eyes to find hers. 
“Fuck…” she whispered. 
You caress your thumb over her cheek and stare incredulously at her, “do you… want to keep going?”
She chuckled lightly, a genuine smile forming on her face, “I do… Do you?”
You nod, “yes… God, you’re so hot.”
She smirked and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, coming at you with passion that made you melt. She let her hands roam your body now and you could feel her happily learning the feel of your skin and muscles beneath your clothes. 
You want her without any shame now. Nothing mattered other than the gorgeous blonde and her pleasure. You grab ahold of her hips and back her up toward a low shelf in the closet. A simple swipe of your arm knocks everything off the shelf and then you lift her onto it and step in between her legs. 
She gasps in surprise but responds quickly by wrapping her legs around your hips and you keep kissing her desperately. Leighton moans and pulls you even closer to her by grabbing your ass. Her hips start to rock, seeking any amount of friction she can get by grinding against you. 
You groan and match the movement of her hips. You come away from her lips and start kissing along her jawline and down the side of her neck. Your thumb tilts her head by moving her chin and you apply pressure with your tongue to the sensitive spots that make her squirm, then nip at the tender skin with your teeth. 
She holds you by the hair at the nape of your neck and sighs as she tilts her head back and away, giving you even more access to her. Her back arches and your arm moves to support her back and you slide your hand under her shirt and touch her skin. You faintly hear the seven minute timer outside of the closet go off but you’ve no intention of stopping now. 
You glance at her blissed out face and breathe, “you’re so fucking gorgeous,” as you kiss around her throat and give your attention to the other side of her neck, pulling her hair lightly to move her head in tandem with you.
Her continued sounds in reaction to you are heavenly. Her little gasps and whimpers drown out the sound outside of the little closet and she becomes your whole world. She squeezes your back and digs her nails into you, desperate for more of you. She tries to say so with words, “I need… I… need…”
“I can keep going…” your press another kiss onto her neck and then her collarbone. 
“Please…” she gasps. 
You bring your lips closer to her ear and whisper your desire, “I want to go down on you, Leighton…”
You feel her body react to your words as a wave of arousal washes over her. 
“Oh… god,” Leighton moans, “holy shit…”
“Do you want that?” You kiss along the edges of her ear, touching your lips to the hidden spots along her hairline. 
“Yes… yes… please…”
“Yes? You’re sure?”
“Yes!” she bucks her hips against you out of desperation and whimpers, “please…”
You smile and return to her lips, kissing her hungrily as you slide your hands around to her waist and push her shirt up, exploring her skin. Your touch sends shivers through her body and raises goosebumps. She kisses you back with fervor but then lets out a quiet whine when you pull away to begin traveling elsewhere. Her disappointment is quickly eased as you start kissing down the front of her body and lower yourself to your knees between her legs. 
You lift up her shirt as you descend and start pressing kisses directly onto the skin of her abdomen. She giggles lightly from the faint tickle of your movements and you smirk as you teasingly continue for a second longer. 
She looks down at you with flushed cheeks. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and you take a moment to really admire her in this state. She licks her pink, swollen lips and runs a hand through her hair to push it back out of her face. Her legs shake just ever so slightly. She’s incredible. 
You breathe her name again, savoring it, “Leighton…”
You reach out and tuck some of her hair behind her ear and then trail those fingers down the center of her body till they reach the button of her jeans. 
You look up at her wordlessly and she nods her head. You undo the button and the zipper and start to ease her jeans down her legs as she lifts her butt off the shelf for a second to help you. Your eyes follow the denim as it slides down her thighs but then you see the lacey, pink panties she’s wearing and your heart skips a beat. You moan at the sight and she smiles. She grabs a hold of your hair again and makes you look back at her face, “like what you see?”
You bite your lower lip and nod, wide eyes staring at her. 
“Finish taking them off…” 
You grab the waistband of her underwear and pull them down, too, until her legs are free of the clothing and you drop the fabric onto the ground beside you. 
You adjust your position so that you’re perched on your knees right between her legs and you start to plant gentle kisses on her inner thighs. 
She keeps her fingers in your hair but leans her head back as you kiss her and sighs happily. 
You grab ahold of her thighs and pull her a little bit more forward, til she’s perched on the edge of the shelf, and then you finally press your face in between her legs and give her your mouth. 
She moans and immediately starts to rock against you, matching your movements. You open your eyes and look up at her with a sly grin on your face as you drag your tongue through her slick and then start to focus on her clit. 
“Oh…” she breathes, “fuck… that’s so good…” she meets your eyes and lets out a desperate groan.
You keep going and can tell how pent up the blonde is. She holds onto your hair with one hand and white knuckles the edge of the shelf with the other, her ankles crossed behind your back. 
This act of having needy, fiery, semi-public sex is so vulgar and so hot. You can’t fathom how this is even real. How are you going down on Leighton Murray in a frat house closet right now?
You felt like you could get off without her even touching you. Her taste, her breathy moans, her grinding motions against your mouth were more than enough. 
She throws her head back, “fuck fuck… I need more… fingers….please…”
You nod your head slightly and shift your hand at her request, slowly sliding your middle finger inside while licking her clit rhythmically. 
She takes your finger with a moan and then you effortlessly slide your ring finger in, too. You curl them and press the pads of your fingers against that ultra-sensitive spot and she starts to clench around you. 
You time the movements of your fingers and tongue expertly and you can feel her climb to her peak quickly, “fuuck… ohmygod I’m so fucking close don’t stop don’t sop!”
She holds onto your head for dear life and you maintain your pace and then she finally releases, coming onto your fingers hard. Her entire body tenses, muscles shaking from holding herself in a precarious position. She moans loudly, head falling back against the wall behind her. You don’t quite reach an orgasm of your own but you feel pure bliss at giving her that strong of a reaction. 
Her eyes shut and her face softens to a weak smile as you clean her up with your tongue and suck your fingers clean while you stand back up. 
You step in between her legs again and reach out to embrace her. She accepts the contact, wrapping her arms around your chest and leaning her head on your shoulder. The affection you feel for her is easy to come by and you can’t help but send up a silent prayer that this won’t be a one time thing. 
Your hand holds the back of her head as she leans on you and you caress your thumb over her soft hair. She lets out a happy hum and squeezes you a little.
“Wow…” she breathes.
“Mhmm…” you agree, “you’re incredible.”
“Me?’ She laughs, “I didn’t do anything!”
“You don’t have to.” You don’t hesitate to press a tender kiss to the top of her head and rub soft circles onto her back. 
“You’re sweet…” she smiles, looking up to meet your eyes, “and freakishly good at that…”
You laugh and shake your head, feeling your cheeks flush.
“You must have a lot of practice.”
“Then you’ll be shocked to find out that I really don’t…”
She raises an eyebrow in doubt, “no way. I don’t believe you.”
You shrug your shoulders, “believe it or not, it’s the truth.”
She shakes her head, incredulous, and tucks her head back against your shoulder. You hear her take a deep breath in through her nose and nuzzle into you a bit. It makes you smile and feel butterflies in your stomach. You wordlessly return the gesture by taking a deep breath against her hair, closing your eyes and letting her undoubtedly expensive conditioner flood your senses. She smells like good espresso and silk. 
“We uh… should probably get out of here, huh?” you ask. 
She groans, “god… don’t remind me that I have to face everyone out there.”
“At least, it will be a disgustingly positive reaction…” you grimace at the thought, “if it helps, I will definitely stick with you for as long as you want me to.”
She nods, “I’d like that, thanks.”
You bend down slightly and grab her discarded clothes and pass them to her. Leighton smiles gratefully and shakily gets down from the weirdly convenient shelf and holds onto your bicep for balance as she gets back into her underwear and jeans. 
When standing normally, she’s back to being a few inches taller than you. She looks down to meet your eyes as she buttons her pants and tucks her shirt back in. You’re gently holding her waist and getting totally lost in her brilliant blue eyes. 
She flips her hair over her shoulder and rests her hands on your shoulders as she leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your lips connect and the tenderness of it surprises you in a good way. You cradle her jaw in your hand again and rub your thumb along her cheek, kissing her a few more times. 
She pulls away and smiles, “you’ve made my night.”
“I’m glad,” you reply, “you made mine, too.”
You take another few moments to gather yourselves and then you brace yourself for the reaction from the crowd as you knock on the closet door to be let out.
Next Chapter
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nimaanila · 6 months
Text
Slow Down, Cowboy (Part 2)
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Pairing: Billy the Kid (Tom Blyth) x reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Kissing, touching, just super fluffy!!
Synopsis: Now that he knows where to find you, Billy comes to the saloon as often as he can to see you, which ends up being just about every night. Reader and Billy get closer.
A/N: Thank you so much for the love on Part 1!!! I’m so happy it was well received. I think there will be one or two more parts. The fluff is ramping up as promised… Even more so in the next one hehehe. Please enjoy!
Part 1: Here
Part 2: Gentle Hands
You found yourself looking forward to the evenings, because you knew that’s when Billy would be arriving. He made a habit of coming to the saloon every night, and if he couldn’t, he stayed longer the following night to make up for it.
The routine was simple but sweet. Billy would file in just after his rowdy group of gunslingers, giving you a smile and a nod before going over to them. They all would come up to the bar together, Billy letting the guys order before him. You couldn’t help but notice the furrow in Billy’s brows deepen and his jaw clench whenever one of the guys made a suggestive comment towards you. You were used to it, so you either played along or brushed it off just to get them their drinks and on their way as soon as possible.
After the guys had gone to their usual table to drink their cares away, Billy would take a seat at the counter and order his usual whiskey. It had been about two weeks at this point, so Billy didn’t even need to say anything before a drink was in front of him. He always thanked you with a gracious nod and smile, never keeping his hat on when he talked to you. You made a mental note to thank him for that at some point. You would hate to miss an opportunity to see those gorgeous blue eyes.
This night, something in the air felt different. You and Billy had gotten more and more comfortable with each other, sharing stories here and there while he drank at the counter and you tended to other patrons, never failing to steal glances and sweet smiles all night.
Hours went by in a flash and soon the saloon cleared out, leaving only you and Billy behind.
“So, cowboy, will that be all for tonight?” Billy usually didn’t drink too much, so you reached out to grab his glass and start cleaning it, only to be stopped by Billy’s hand gently grabbing your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat. You felt frozen. This was the first time you and Billy had any physical contact. His fingertips were cold from holding his glass all night, and they felt good against the warmth of your skin.
You couldn’t draw your eyes away from where his skin met yours until he spoke. “Y/N, I got somethin’ to tell you, and I really want you to hear me, okay?” He trapped you in place, not only with his gentle grip on your wrist but with his piercing blue stare. All you could do was nod your head. You were so distracted by the delicious burning sensation from the hold he had on you. You never wanted him to let go.
He continued speaking while his eyes bore into yours, trying to translate all the urgency he felt in telling you this. “I wanted to apologize for the guys’ behavior. They don’t know how to act around ladies, let alone one as beautiful and kind as you. They’re dogs. I don’t like the way they were talkin’ to you, not one bit.” Touched by his words, you shook your head and chuckled softly. “Billy, that’s nice and all but really not necessary. I’m used to it. It happens all day when you’re not around, too. It doesn’t bother me,” you assured him.
Billy moved the glass from your grasp and set it off to the side so he could hold your hand in both of his. He gently rubbed his thumb along the side of your wrist as he continued to speak, never breaking eye contact. “Well, it bothers me. I was raised to treat women with respect, even more so the ones I care about. Now, I know we don’t know each other well, but these past two weeks gettin’ to know you have been some of the best nights of my life.”
You were caught off guard by his sudden declaration but moved by what he was saying to you. You were elated to know he felt the same as you did. “Billy, I-“ you paused to get a grip on the thoughts that were racing through your head as you stared into his eyes. “Thank you for those kind words. They really mean a lot. I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t been lookin’ forward to these nights ever since you first stepped through those saloon doors over there.” This earned you a smile from Billy. He chuckled and looked down bashfully to where his hands covered yours. He continued his soothing act of rubbing his thumb along the side of your wrist. “But why do I feel like you’re breakin’ up with me?” You furrowed your brows and tilted your head as you posed the question. You had a slight joking tone, because you weren’t together officially, but the look in his eyes told you he knew what you meant.
Billy’s smile faltered. You were too smart to fool. He mustered up the courage to tell you what he was dreading for the past week. He met your eyes as he spoke. “I know you know who I am. What people say about me. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of but I try to be the best I can be.” Billy took a deep breath before he continued. “A war is comin’, darlin’, and I’m right in the middle of it. I don’t know how it’s all gonna end up, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t get to tell you that I really like you. Whether you wanted to keep seein’ me or not, I had to make sure you knew.”
It looked like Billy was holding his breath as he waited for you to respond. You both didn’t realize it, but you had drifted closer and closer together as you spoke to each other, hands still connected and breaths mixing together. You smelled the whiskey he drank all night and he smelled the vanilla-scented oil you put behind your ears and on your wrists every morning. You found each other to be asolutely intoxicating.
You tentatively reached out with your free hand to brush some of his chocolate curls back from his forehead. His eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. You ran your fingers back through his hair, resting your hand on the side of his jaw, holding him in place. Billy thought he had died and gone to heaven just by your touch.
Your thumb brushed along his jaw so softly he thought he was imagining it. But this was not a dream. This was real. You looked at him with a soft smile and told him, “Billy, if I wanted to run, I would have by now. I know what they say about you, but I don’t care. I know deep down you are a good man and you are doin’ what you need to do to keep survivin’. That’s all any of us can do. All I can judge is the man in front of me, and he makes my heart sing.”
Billy looked at you as if everything in the world made sense to him now. He couldn’t believe you were in front of him, real, warm, so inviting, so beautiful. And you weren’t scared of him. You weren’t running away. No, you wanted to stay. You wanted him to stay.
“Y/N, you could make a grown man cry,” Billy said with sparkles in his eyes and a laugh so contagious that you just had to mimic him. He sat up straight, moving his free hand to gently hold the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Your eyes closed and you sighed in contentment at the feel of his warm, calloused hand on your skin, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch. Well, you could have, but why would you want to?
“Y/N, would it be alright if I kissed you, now?” Billy whispered, careful not to disturb the intimate moment that had been created by the two of you. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips and back. They looked so soft and sweet. You opened your eyes to meet his, smiling softly as you said, “I was wonderin’ what took you so long to ask.” Billy smiled as he leaned forward, gently brushing his lips against yours as if he was afraid you’d shatter to pieces at the first contact.
His one hand remained on the side of your face while his other shifted to interlace your fingers together and hold your hands close to his chest, his thumb brushing back and forth across your knuckles. Your hand moved from his jaw to the nape of his neck, gently stroking the curls that rested there. Billy sighed in pleasure at your touch.
The kiss was slow, gentle, sweet. The type of kiss you’d expect from Billy, who was not like any other cowboy you’d come across. You tasted the whiskey, rich but somehow sweet on his mouth. Billy relished in the feeling of your soft lips against his chapped ones. You kissed until you both needed air, pulling away and resting your foreheads together.
“I think I could kiss you all day,” Billy said, breathless. He pecked you once, twice, three more times, making you dizzy. You chuckled as you said, “Slow down, there, cowboy. We got all the time in the world.” You gently kissed his nose before reluctantly pulling away, feeling immediately cold after his warm hands had released you. “You best be goin’ now and gettin’ some rest, Billy. I’m sure you got a big day ahead of you tomorrow,” you said to him, realizing just how late it was.
Billy looked at you up and down with a smirk before he agreed. “Yes ma’am, I’ll be on my way now. Can I walk you home?”
You heart soared at his kind gesture, but you politely declined. “I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary.” Disappointment flashed over Billy’s face. You were quick to remedy that, however, by signaling to the staircase to the left of the bar counter. “I actually live right upstairs,” you told Billy with a grin.
Billy returned your grin with a subtle chuckle and a shake of his head. “Well, alright then. See you tomorrow?” He looked at you expectantly. You nodded in agreement. “See you tomorrow, cowboy.” Billy stole another quick kiss from you, earning himself a giggle before he all but skipped out of the saloon, giving you one last glance before he headed home.
You laughed and smiled to yourself in disbelief, biting your lip. You and Billy felt like two kids falling in love for the first time. And maybe that’s what you were. Two kids, falling in love, for the first time.
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writeroutoftime · 10 months
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hi! could you write carmy berzatto x fem!reader where she’s in her early 20s (not too crazy age gap) and reader is sud’s friend and he just has a crush on her ???? like i just want lovesick carmen so badly 😭
pls and thank u
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a/n: sure thing, one lovesick carmy coming right up! (honestly, I was never sure how old carmy was supposed to be. but in my mind he was always somewhere around like 26-28??) also, sorry I hope you don't mind this ended up being in bullet point format, it was just easiest for me to write it that way - though I hope you enjoy!!
oOoOo
“Yo, who’s the new girl?” Richie called out as he watched you walk in behind Syd, pulling everyone's attention towards you.
"This is y/n." Sydney introduced. "She's been my friend for years, and she's offered to help us the restaurant. For free, might I add. So be nice." she finished, staring directly at Richie who simply raised his hands in surrender as a response.
You quietly giggled at the interaction, catching Carmen's attention as he stood in the back, waiting to come forward and introduce himself. He felt frozen in place, watching your smile, the way your eyes scanned the under-construction building with wonder, and the way you were ready to jump in and help.
It had been quite a while since Carmen felt his heart skip the way it did when he looked at you, and he clammed up, ready to turn back and introduce himself later. After he had hours to agonize over what he would say to you.
Unfortunately, fate - or Sydney- had other plans as his business partner steered you into Carmen's path. "And this is the man responsible for all of this chaos." Sydney teased.
"It's nice to meet you, Chef." you smiled gently, reaching out your hand in greeting.
"Oh, no, uh, I mean Carmen." he stuttered out, mentally slapping himself. "What I meant was you don't have to call me Chef, you can just call me Carmen, or Carmy. Really whatever you prefer." he rambled, trying to ignore the way you hand fit so perfectly in his.
"Got it, Chef Carmen Carmy." you giggled, enjoying the slight blush that dusted his cheeks.
And in that moment, Carmy knew he was a goner.
Though you weren't at The Bear every day, Carmy would constantly look towards the door when you weren't there, hoping that each jingle of the bell meant that it was you gracing him with your presence.
The days that you were there, though? Carmy found himself an absolute mess in your presence. Stuttering and stumbling all his words and laughing louder than necessary at any joke you cracked.
But Carmy could also be a little smoother when it came to interacting with you. He quickly learned your coffee (or tea) order and always tried to have it waiting for you when it stopped to get himself one.
But, of course, Carmy tries to get to know you most through food.
"Would you mind trying this dish? Thinking about putting it on the menu." Carmy would ask anytime he made something new for the Bear, you being only the second person to try it (behind Syd).
Carmy would also learn your favorite foods and offer to make it if you had been at The Bear too long and Carmen knew you hadn't eaten.
"Oh, you didn't need to do that, Carmy."
"Really it's no problem, it's the least I can do in exchange for all your help." he'd say, bashfully running a hand through his hair.
Richie, noticing the exchange would call out, "Hey, Cousin, can I get some of that too?" only to get Carmy's middle finger as a response.
Of course, none of this was one-sided and you regularly flirted back with Carmen while helping out. It was just he took it as you being too nice, not believing he had a shot with you - much to your disappointment and everyone else at The Bear.
"Cousin, you gonna ask her out or what?" Richie would finally ask one evening when it was just the two of them left at the restaurant.
"What are you talking about?" Carmen would ask, eyes furrowed, heart beating just a bit faster.
Richie's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "W-what am I talking about? You've been pining over y/n for months, and she's been throwing you all sorts of signals back.
"S-she has?" Carmy asked, voice quiet, though slowly growing excited.
"Yes!" Richie would shout, before walking away, mumbling a "you're hopeless" under his breath.
The next time Carmy saw you, he had made up his mind he was going to ask you out. Even if it just meant the two of you spending some time at the restaurant without everyone else.
He walked up to you talking to Sydney and asked if he could talk to you in the kitchen, alone.
"So, um, I probably should have asked you this weeks ago, but uh, do you maybe want to, I don't know, go out with me?" he rushed out, biting his lip, trying not to run away in fear.
There was a moment of silence before you beamed up at Carmy, nodding your head excitedly. "It's about time, Chef Carmen Carmy." you teased, kissing his cheek before heading back out to Syd, leaving Carmen a smiling, blushing mess.
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