#if you have more questions my inbox is always open! i really love talking about this stuff

[snow-lavender]

post-finale headcanons pt 3: snow is a linguist special edition

nightingale kingdom did a lot of trade with the nether (for example, for chilies and other spices, hence fenris' canonical high spice tolerance). at that point, overworld common had already become the lingua franca of the nether, so a pidgin never needed to develop, but there was still a lot of cross-linguistic exchange. sayings and words from the nightingale dialect of common made their way into the dialects of the piglin communities in the associated part of the nether, and vice versa. wanda gets very thrown off at the occasional piglin words that fenris uses like he was born speaking them.

piglin has templatic morphology!

branching off of that, like some of the semitic languages in the real world, ancient piglin writings have no vowels, just consonants. however, as the different cultures in the nether started interacting with each other more, piglin adopted putting vowels into writing from ghast, to make communication less of a hassle. it started with just trade documents and other things that would need to be read by outsiders, but eventually trickled down to all writing.

telchin don't need air to breathe underwater, but their voiceboxes are very similar to humans in that they need to expel air to create vibrations. so underwater, their lungs become solely used to hold reserve air for speech. thankfully most live near underwater vents, so there are plenty of places to refill their lungs (you figure out the science of how minecraft people gain air from underwater bubbles. i don't want to). it is a common trope in telchin live theatre, especially comedies, for a character to be arguing, suddenly stop, swim off a bit, and spend a moment glaring at their opponent from an underwater vent, before swimming back and picking up right where they left off.

spoken telchin's phonetic inventory is influenced by the environment in multiple ways. sounds that travel better in in water are used much more. even overworld common cognates that have sounds that are a part of the inventory may be adapted to travel better if they're used more often, or in high stress situations.

telchin has a lot* of vowels. so many.

*a lot of vowels is actually not as impressive to native english speakers, as i'm sure most of you reading this are. english has i think 12 vowels naturally occuring in it? but the average number for a language to have is somewhere around 6. for the hell of it, let's say telchin has between 16 and 20, to preserve that wow factor.

to further take advantage of the auditory qualities of vowels, spoken telchin has contrastive tone. with the huge number of possible vowels, then, a large percentage of telchin syllables are just V. they have CV and CVC syllables, but many words are just strings of Vs (or vowels and semivowels, i suppose, since they'd be kind of necessary to facilitate the flow of speech)

when telchin does make use of consonants, it's mostly fricatives and stops. again, because sound is dampened underwater, sounds that involve a pronounced cut off of airflow or a lot of vibration are preferable.

words that express a lot of emotion in telchin just happen to have a lot of fricatives. the turbulent airflow of those make for a lot of bubbles, so it's a joke in telchin that you see that someone's yelling at you before you hear it.

some explanations of terms below the cut-

pidgin: a "language" that's actually just a mashup of two languages to allow for communication between two groups. these happen when two groups first start interacting; once time goes on and it (possibly) develops its own syntax and processes, and begins to have native speakers, it's no longer a pidgin, it's a creole.

lingua franca: an existing language that two or more groups decide to have in common and speak as is to allow for communication and trade. in the modern western world, english serves this purpose, but in the early roman empire (at least for writing) it was greek, and a bunch of nations in western north america have a signed lingua franca, not a spoken one: Plains Indian Sign Language.

templatic morphology: an alternate way of adding meaning and inflecting words to affix morphology (where you add prefixes and suffixes (and also infixes and circumfixes). for example, adding the -s plural suffix to cat to get cats.) instead, under this system, root words are just chains of consonants, and which vowels you slot in determine how you're modifying the meaning. arabic is one language that does this!

phonetic inventory: the set of sounds that make up a specific languages, out of all sounds used in all language. that gutteral, back of the throat hiss you find in german and dutch is part of those languages' phonetic inventories, but not english's, so english speakers looking to learn those might struggle with that noise.

cognate: a word in one language that has been borrowed from another; your french teacher may have called them mots amis. english has a lot of cognates; from spanish, like tortilla, from french, like deja vu, from german, like kindergarten, and many more!

tone: how high or low you say a word, or how that changes. like how as you say a question your voice raises up. in some languages, like mandarin, this is part of the grammar instead of something that modifies fully made sentences.

contrastive: when the difference between two sounds can mean the difference between two words. for example, if you take the i in leek and change it to ɪ, you get a new word, lick. so i and ɪ are contrastive. which sounds are contrastive varies bewteen languages: ɹ and l are contrastive in english (lad and rad are two different words) but interchangeable in japanese.

syllables: V and C just mean vowel and consonant. so a V syllable is one vowel, and a CVC syllable is consonant-vowel-consonant.

semivowels: w as in wind or j as in yell. they share a lot more attributes with vowels than consonants, but they can't function as the nucleus of a syllable so they're classed as consonants.

fricatives: sounds like sh and f and h, that restrict airflow but don't stop it completely, making for really turbulent vibrations.

stops: sounds that stop airflow, then release it, like b, t, and k. very short bursts of air.

[cowboybeepboop]

Desire

“Anything you want, baby,” he murmurs, his voice strained with desire. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Friends to lovers, romantic smut

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: Your feelings for Jake resurface after you tried to push them away, leading to an extremely intimate night with your best friend.

a/n: I really hope there's still an audience for Top Gun Maverick smut because I really loved writing for Hangman and Rooster. Also, I’m currently working on the requests in my inbox but as always feel free to send any my way! I hope you enjoy <3

You're best friends with Jake, in fact you're the only one who he doesn't seem to have an attitude with. Working at The Hard Deck allows you to see him even more frequently, which you truly enjoy.

You know not to get too attached to him, you know how he is with women, you know that given the chance he would simply fuck you and leave your life forever. So of course you’ve entirely given up on the chance of ever being anything more than just his friend, his best friend.

The doors swing open with Mav and his team bounding in, he greets Penny, glancing over at you as you lean over a table obviously lost in thought.

“What are all of you doing here? I’m not even open yet,” she starts to scold but Maverick brushes her comment off.

“I thought you could make an exception for us,” he shoots her a sly grin and she rolls her eyes. Hangman gives you a gentle pat on the back as he passes you, saying a soft hello.

Phoenix chuckles as she stands in front of you, “Hey Y/N,” you groan in response.

“Hey, bagman.” Phoenix addresses the blond who's standing at the pool table, “What's up with Y/N?” Hangman turns toward Phoenix and raises an eyebrow in response to her question. He didn't seem particularly interested in the conversation, but his attention was piqued nonetheless.

"Hm? Oh, Y/N? What about her?" he said, leaning against the pool table with a nonchalant tone.

“I mean, just look at her. She looks like she's got something on her mind.” she says, nodding in your direction. Their gazes fall on you, watching as you wipe the same place over and over. He approaches you with a frown on his face, clearly noticing your distracted state.

He stands in front of you, his arms folded across his chest, and observes you silently. "You look like you're in another world, sweetheart," he finally says in a low voice, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

You glance up at him, letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah, something like that.” you mutter.

“Well, don't just say that and not give me the details.” he raises an eyebrow, watching the way you look away. Something was definitely on your mind, he could tell by the look on your face alone. He knew you all too well, and your usual mood was certainly not this solemn.

He leaned down a bit, making sure he was in your field of vision again, his arms still crossing his chest. “Come on, you can tell me. What's going on?” he prodded, a hint of concern in his voice.

“It’s nothing,” your expression softens as you toss the rag into the red bucket under the counter.

“Oh, really now?” he says with a doubtful tone. He knew you were lying straight to his face, you were usually a pretty terrible liar. He leans against the counter a little bit, keeping his eyes on you. “I know there’s something going on in that pretty little head of yours. So spill it.” He spoke in a firm tone, trying to get you to open up to him.

“It's just,” you purse your lips as you choose your words carefully, making sure he doesnt find out you're talking about him. “Just some guy, has me distracted.”

“A guy?” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. There was something off about the way you spoke, like you were intentionally being vague. But his curiosity quickly shifted into jealousy as you mentioned you were distracted by another guy.

His arms tensed across his chest as he leaned a little closer towards you. “Who is this guy? Is he bothering you?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He didn’t like the idea of someone else capturing your attention, let alone making you distracted.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it.” you tease him, your mood becoming a bit more lighthearted.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, a small hint of a smile appearing on his face. But he was still determined to figure out who this other guy was, who was taking your attention away from him.

He pushed off the counter, moving to stand in front of you so that you were now face to face. “Come on, spill it. Who is this guy?” he said, a hint of insistence in his voice.

“I don’t want to make you jealous.” There was a hint of a smirk on his face as you mentioned making him jealous. He knew you were teasing him, but his competitive nature couldn’t resist the challenge.

“Oh, you think I’d get jealous?” he said, a hint of mock arrogance in his tone. “I don’t get jealous, sweetheart.” you think for a second, realizing that maybe getting advice from the man who's bothering you so much, might actually be your best option.

“Fine,” you pull yourself up on the counter, sitting on the edge in front of him. “He’s an ass sometimes, all he cares about is getting laid so I know I need to stay away. But.. I just can’t stop thinking about him.” you sigh.

Hangman looks a bit surprised by your admission, he wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt about the situation. He wants to tell you to forget about the guy and focus your attention on him instead, but he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you.

He leans against the counter next to you, his arms resting across his chest once again. “Sounds like a player, why bother with him?” he asks, trying to sound indifferent.

“I don't know, it’s just that he's always on my mind.” you lean back on your palms, “I guess that's why I’m so distracted today.” He can see the hint of frustration and confusion in your expression, it was clearly bothering you that this guy was constantly invading your thoughts.

He’s silent for a moment, his mind racing with different thoughts and feelings. But eventually he speaks, his voice low and firm. “You can do so much better than some player,” he says with a slight scoff, “You don’t need a guy like him in your life.”

Your eyes wander across his face as you sigh, “I know..” your voice trails off. He looks down at you, noticing the way your eyes are wandering across his face. He can see the hint of disappointment in your expression, as you admit that you know you can do better.

He steps a bit closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. “So why bother with him then? Why waste your time and energy thinking about a guy who doesn’t deserve you?"

“I should get back to work.” you smile softly at him, hiding the frustration at his admission. He didn’t want you to go, he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end just yet. The way you smiled softly at him, a hint of frustration in your eyes, made him want to keep talking to you and find out more.

But he knew you had a job to do, and he didn’t want to come off as needy or overbearing. He nods in response to your statement, forcing a small smile back.

“Y/N,” Penny smiles warmly at you, “How about you call it a day?” she presses her hand to your back.

“Are you sure?” you question her, she simply nods at you. You find your way over to the pool table watching the pilots play.

The pilots are in the middle of a game of pool, laughing and teasing each other as they take turns shooting. Hangman in particular is clearly enjoying himself, relishing in the competitive atmosphere. He knows he's good at pool, and he's not afraid to show it.

He’s the first to notice your approach, and his demeanor changes slightly. He glances at you, a hint of a cocky smile on his face. “Finished working already?” he teases, his eyes watching you intently.

“Yeah, but my ride won't be here for a couple more hours.” you bite down on your bottom lip, gazing at him.

He steps even closer to you, his gaze unwavering. “If you don't want to keep waiting, I can drive you home.” his voice lowered as he stares down at you.

“Actually that sounds like a great idea,” you smile up at him, thankful you won’t have to stay any later.

He can't help but feel satisfied that you agreed so easily to his offer, pleased that he'll have more time alone with you. He grins back at you, his arms still crossed in front of his chest.

"Alright then, let's get going." he says, jerking his head towards the exit. He places a hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the doors. You wave goodbye to Penny and Mav who are deep in a conversation.

“Do you maybe have time to watch a movie with me?” you fiddle with your fingers, “I mean, it's been a while since we've hung out just the two of us.”

He listens to your question, his mind racing with different thoughts, but he quickly shoves them down. He would do anything to spend more time with you. He pretends to act a bit indifferent, but his voice betrays him as he replies.

"Sure, we can watch a movie." he shrugs, trying not to seem too eager. "Got one in mind?" you reach for the handle of his passenger side door.

“Hm, we could watch anything. I just want to be with you,” you admit carelessly while getting into the car.

He can’t help but feel a flutter in his chest at your admission, his heart races a little bit faster as he watches you get into the car. He quickly gets into the driver’s seat, trying to act like your words don’t affect him.

“Anything, huh?” he teases, glancing over at you quickly as he starts the car. “Even a cheesy romance movie?” he smirks, knowing how much you love them.

You gasp in response, “Obviously, you *know* they're my favorite.” his mind goes back to the discussion you had earlier as you smile at him.

He lets out a soft chuckle at your response, “Of course I do, I can’t forget your obsession with them.” he teases, his eyes staying focused on the road as he drives. But his mind starts to wander again, thinking about your earlier confession.

As his mood shifts slightly, he glances over at you with a hint of a frown on his face. “So, uh, this guy you were talking about,” he says, breaking the silence in the car. “How… how serious are you about him?”

“Hm?” your eyebrows furrow softly. His grip on the steering wheel tightens ever so slightly at your reaction, his eyes staring straight ahead as he continues to drive.

He can’t help the pang of jealousy that runs through him, he glances over at you, his face trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. “I just mean, you said you didn’t want to get in trouble with a guy.” he says, his tone guarded.

“I don’t know.” you sigh looking out the window.

His heart does a backflip at your words, he tries to maintain a neutral expression, but he can’t help the small smirk that appears on his face. “So, you’re single, huh?” he teases, a hint of hope in his voice.

“Mhm, why do you ask?” you question him. He continues to drive, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he answers your question.

“Just wondering,” he replies casually, trying to feign indifference. But he can’t help the nervous energy that’s building inside of him. He glances over at you, his gaze raking over your face thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve been single for a while too,” he adds, an underlying hint in his voice.

“You’re always single,” you retort, “you prefer hook-ups over relationships, right?” you tease him.

He lets out an annoyed huff, not expecting you to tease him like that. His face flushes slightly as he remembers all the past hookups he’s bragged about to you, in an attempt to make you jealous. “Hey,” he says with false annoyance in his voice, “I can be in a relationship if I wanted to.”

“And would you want to?” you question as he pulls into the parking lot of your building.

He parks the car, his heart racing slightly at your question. He turns to look at you, hesitating for a moment. The thought of being in a relationship, with you, was something he’d fantasized about for a while. But he’s also a coward, terrified of being vulnerable and getting hurt.

He takes a deep breath, trying to maintain a casual composure. “Maybe, if it was the right person.” he finally responds, his eyes searching your face for a reaction. You nod in response, slightly disappointed with his answer.

“Who’s your right person?” your voice is quiet. He’s taken aback by your question, the subtle disappointment in your voice stabbing at his heart. He glances down, his mind racing with different thoughts and emotions.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes shifting back up to meet yours. His heart pounds even faster as he musters up the courage to answer you. “Well.. I think you already know.” your eyes widen at his implication, feeling his hand moving to cup your cheek.

He can see the surprise in your eyes as he cups your cheek gently, his thumb stroking your skin softly. His heart is racing as he looks down at you, his eyes searching your expression for a reaction.

He takes a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak. “Do you… do you feel the same way?” he asks, his voice soft and nervous.

“Jake.. I.” your heart races as your words get stuck in your throat. His chest clenches as you struggle to speak, his stomach in knots as he waits for your response. His hand is still gently caressing your cheek, his eyes never leaving your face.

He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure. “Please, just tell me. I need to know.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. Finding yourself speechless, you respond by pressing your lips to his.

He’s taken by surprise by your action, his eyes widening for a split second before he responds to your kiss. A wave of relief and happiness washes over him as he feels your lips against his, his heart racing with excitement and disbelief as he realizes the asshole you were talking about earlier just so happens to be him.

He moans softly against your mouth, his hand moving to the back of your head, his fingers burying into your hair as he kisses you back, passionately and hungrily. You lean closer to him, your hands cupping his cheeks as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue twirling with yours. He can’t believe this is actually happening, that you feel the same way he does.

He pulls you closer, his hands gripping your hips and guiding you onto his lap. He moans against your lips, his hands roaming down your sides, his touch both gentle and desperate at the same time.

“Jake,” you whisper against his lips, feeling his bulge pressed against your heat. He shudders hearing his name leaving your lips, his eyes darkening with desire for you. He can’t help but moan softly as he feels your body pressed against his, his hips instinctively bucking up slightly in response.

He pulls you even closer, his hands gripping your thighs, his lips trailing down your neck. “Sweetheart,” he breathes, “I want you so damn bad.” you moan quietly, leaning into his touch.

“We need to go inside,” your voice and gaze are filled with desire. His heart races at your moan, his body aching with need for you. He nods in agreement, his eyes filled with the same desire.

“You’re right, we should go.” he mutters, his hands roaming over your hips, unable to keep himself from touching you.

He lifts you off his lap, opening the car door and practically dragging you out with him. He shuts the door behind you before pulling you towards the building’s entrance, his eyes filled with impatience and lust.

He presses you against the wall of the elevator, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of exposed skin. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in their wake.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” he mutters against your skin, his voice thick with desire. He kisses and nips at your neck, unable to get enough of you, your soft moans fill the cramped space.

He can’t help but smirk to himself as he hears your moans, his heart racing as he realizes he’s the one making you feel this way. He feels a surge of pride and satisfaction knowing he’s the one who has your heart racing and your body yearning.

“Jake, fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” The ding of the elevator pulls you both out of your trance as the doors open, revealing the empty hallway. He grabs your hand, practically dragging you towards your apartment.

You fumble with the doorknob as you unlock it, feeling his desperate hands around your waist.

He can't keep his hands off you, his fingers tracing the exposed skin of your waist as you fiddle with the keys. Impatience floods him, his desire growing with every second.

He presses himself against you from behind, his lips finding your neck once again. "Hurry up," he mutters against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "I need you, right now."

You pull the door open, smirking at his impatience. He traps you between his arms, your back pressed against the closed door, his body pressed firmly against yours. He gazes down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and possessiveness.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse and low. He leans down and captures your lips in a fierce and passionate kiss, his body desperate to get closer to you.

You press against him, your palms against his lower abs, as you lead him to your bedroom blindly. He follows your lead through the apartment, his lips never leaving yours. His body is on fire, the feeling of your hands on his abs driving him wild.

He pushes you against the doorframe of your bedroom, his body pinning you to it as he continues to kiss you deeply and hungrily. He can't get enough of your mouth, his tongue tasting every inch of it. He slips his knee between your thighs, pressing into your sensitive pussy. You moan into his mouth, your eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.

His knee presses against your sensitive core, his tongue exploring your mouth greedily. He can hear your moans, your breath hitching as he presses into you. He feels a surge of satisfaction as he knows he’s the one who makes you feel this way.

He nips at your bottom lip, his hands roaming down your sides, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “You like that, sweetheart?” he mutters, his voice low and hoarse. “You want more?”

“Please,” you grasp onto his sides, moaning desperately, “I need more please.”

He can hear the desperation in your voice, your fingers gripping his sides. His heart aches at your plea, his body responding instantly to your need.

He moans against your mouth in response, his hands roaming down to your thighs. In one swift motion, he lifts you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you into your bedroom.

He gently but firmly presses you against the plush comforter of your bed, his eyes devouring every inch of your body. The room is bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting shadows across your flushed cheeks and the passionate hunger in his gaze. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, and it sends shivers down your spine.

With a low growl, he starts to peel away the layers of fabric that separate his skin from yours. His rough hands glide over your smooth flesh, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each piece of clothing that falls away reveals more of your beauty to him, and he can't help but moan in appreciation. His eyes are locked onto yours, watching the way your pupils dilate with every touch, every kiss.

He nips at your earlobe before tracing the line of your jaw with his teeth, making you squirm under him. His hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body, learning every dip and peak that makes you gasp. His kisses become more fervent, his teeth grazing your neck as he sucks soft hickeys into your skin. You can feel the pressure build, the promise of bruises that will be a secret between the two of you.

Your breath comes in pants as he kisses down your chest, his tongue swirling around your hardened nipples. You arch your back, pushing your breasts closer to his eager mouth, your hands tangling into his hair. He groans, the vibration of his pleasure echoing through your body, making your core clench with need. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and you can't help but bite down on your lip to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

His mouth continues to travel downward, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your stomach. His eyes never leave yours, the hunger in them growing with every inch closer he gets to your wet pussy. You can feel your heart pounding against your ribs, the anticipation of his touch making your skin tingle with excitement.

With surprising gentleness, he spreads your legs apart, his gaze lingering on the wetness that's already gathered there. He groans, his own arousal evident in the tightness of his pants. He leans in, his breath hot against your sensitive skin, and you can't help but moan out his name as he kisses the inside of your thigh.

The first suck is gentle, but firm, and you feel your pussy clench in response. He starts to suck dark hickeys along the sensitive skin, each one a little harder and closer to your center. Your hands tighten in his hair as he works his way closer to your core, the pleasure building with every mark he leaves.

“More, Jake, please!” you beg him, your voice desperate and needy. He chuckles against your skin, his tongue flicking against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your back arches as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking hard. You moan loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls of your small apartment.

He inserts one finger inside you, feeling the slickness of your arousal. You gasp as he starts to pump in and out, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, teasing and taunting it. His eyes watch yours as he reads every reaction, making sure to hit all the right spots.

You're close, so close, but he knows you can take more. He adds another finger, stretching you just right, the friction making your toes curl. Your eyes roll back into your head as he starts to pump faster, his mouth never leaving your clit. He feels you tighten around his fingers, the warmth of your orgasm approaching.

He keeps his rhythm steady, not letting up even when your moans turn into whimpers of pleasure. You're so close, your body begging for release. His eyes never leave you, the intensity of the moment causing your chest to heave with every ragged breath. And then it hits you, the orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

You scream his name, your body convulsing with pleasure. He keeps his mouth on you, drinking in your release, savoring the taste of your arousal. As the waves subside, he kisses up your body, his hands still holding you in place.

"You taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with satisfaction. He can feel your legs shaking as his own need for you grows with every second. He strips off his own clothes, his eyes never leaving yours, and then he's on top of you, his body pressing you into the mattress.

He positions himself at your entrance, his cock aching to be inside you. He looks into your eyes, searching for permission, and you nod eagerly. He takes a deep breath, then gently pushes in, feeling your warmth envelop him. You gasp as he stretches you, his eyes never leaving yours, watching for any signs of pain or discomfort.

As he’s fully sheathed in your wetness, he holds still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being connected to you so intimately. He starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, torturous rhythm. Each time he thrusts into you, your eyes widen and a moan escapes your lips. He loves the way you react to him, the way your body moves with his.

He keeps his movements gentle, not wanting to overwhelm you, despite his own desperate need to claim you completely. His hands are everywhere, stroking your skin, feeling your curves, as he kisses along your jawline. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your legs tightening around his waist.

Your thighs squeeze around him, your heels digging into his back as he continues to thrust into you, deeper and deeper. His movements become more urgent as he feels your body tightening around him, the walls of your pussy clenching down on his cock. You moan his name, urging him to go faster, harder, and he responds eagerly, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm.

You can feel yourself on the edge of another orgasm, your breaths coming in short gasps. Hangman’s eyes are locked on yours, watching the pleasure build in your gaze, feeling the power he has over your body. He can’t believe how beautiful you look, your face contorted in ecstasy, your eyes glazed over with lust.

Your body begins to spasm around him, your pussy clenching down hard. He groans, his hips stuttering as he feels you start to cum. The sensation is overwhelming, your muscles tightening around his cock like a vice, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

With a sudden jolt, he pulls out of you, unable to hold back any longer, his cock spurting cum onto your stomach with a loud groan. His eyes never leave your body, watching as your orgasm takes over, your pussy pulsing and gripping at nothing.

He's left breathless, his chest heaving as he looks down at you, his expression one of awe and satisfaction. He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, before his eyes drift down to the mess he's made of you.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut, your body trembling with the pleasure he’s given you. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction at the sight of your beautiful, sated body.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire and exhaustion. His eyes rake over your form, taking in every curve and plane, every mark he’s left behind.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he mutters, his fingers tracing the lines of his bites and hickeys on your skin.

“Now let's get you cleaned up, hm?” He lifts you up, wrapping his strong arms around you, and carries you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower, letting the water run until it warms up, before placing you gently under the spray.

He steps in after you, his body pressing against yours as he begins to lather your body with soap, his hands moving over your skin gently but possessively. You exhale contentedly as you press into his chest, relaxing in his embrace.

He holds you close, his arms encircling you, as the water cascades over your bodies. His hands run over your body, washing away the sweat and evidence of your passionate encounter. Jake nuzzles his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, a sense of peace washing over him. He murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, his voice low and soothing.

“You’re not just fucking around with me are you?” your voice is uneasy as your stomach twists with anxiety. He freezes, taken aback by your vulnerable question. He can hear the anxiety in your voice, and it pierces his heart.

He pulls away slightly, turning your body to face his, cupping your face gently in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are intense but filled with understanding.

“No. No, sweetheart, I’m not just ‘fucking around with you’.” His voice is firm but tender. “What we did tonight, it meant something to me. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. You mean way too much to me.” your eyes soften as his gaze into yours with sincerity.

“Good, because I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” you bite down on your lip. He feels a rush of tenderness and protectiveness wash over him as he hears your sincere words. He pulls you closer, your wet bodies pressed against each other, his arms encircling you in a firm embrace.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he mutters against your hair, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and possessiveness. “You’re all I want too, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I need you.”

[reidrum]

glory of the snow

note: the return of insecure!reader my beloved <3 i had a bunch of requests to bring her back so i hope we like it! this is really just a gentle reminder from spencer that we should be kinder to ourselves. also i wanted to have them actually fuck but it didn't seem right to fit that in here so ,,, part 2 question mark who is to say. anyways my inbox is always open for any thoughts, comments, questions, musings all of it! love y'all mwah

summary: you freak out when spencer walks in on you accidentally, and he just loves you too much to let it go

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, masturbation (r, just mentions), heavy petting/kissing, comfort, talks of intimacy issues, self-deprecating reader

wc: 3k

“Oh, sweet girl.”

Three words, maybe two and one syllable, that in any other instance would have had you melting into a puddle at the softness it reared. Words that have so easily turned you into a preening cat but are now aimed at you, albeit no judgement from his end, with no room for escape.

Spencer had come home after a long day of paperwork when he first heard it. He would have brushed it off if it didn’t happen again moments later, and louder. Concerned, he walks toward the bedroom, a flush rushing to his face as he comes to recognize what it is. A small crack of the door allowed him the glorious sight of you in the center of the bed, hand between your legs, eyes shut in ecstasy. You’re mesmerizing to him and he really can’t bring himself to look away, and he doesn’t notice himself subconsciously leaning on the door causing a faint creak that alarmed you to his presence. In that moment, however, he’s less worried about scaring you, and more about the overwashing look of shame on your face.

The soft creak of the door pulled you out of your daze, screaming when you saw the figure behind the door. Your eyes are bulging out of their sockets nearly, heartbeat still racing with adrenaline from when you haphazardly threw the blanket over yourself. You were conflicted, but getting caught doing something that is a common and completely normal instance in relationships really shouldn’t make you feel this guilty. Although you do know the guilt was created by a previous version of you where you had told Spencer that you wanted to take the pace of your relationship slowly, and had little to no desire to engage in such activities for the time being. Or so you said.

He cautiously steps closer, careful not to startle you further, “I’m not upset, or anything.”

You’re not upset either, you’re mortified. “I lied to you.”

“You did…but I don’t think you meant to, right?”

There had been a time where you were tangled all up in him, and poor Spencer, his hands were in the wrong place at the wrong time to no fault of his own and entirely yours, and your shutdown was unavoidable. The blood in your veins seized up like crystallizing water turning into ice, paralyzing both the physical and mental before you could realize.

Intimacy for you was a complicated concept. While it wasn’t novel or unwanted, physical intimacy was something you struggled to accept with open arms. Call it a consequence of your self perception, but it was hard to accept the soft touch of love when you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Spencer never minded, although his heart ached to make you see yourself the way he saw you, he was always more than willing to meet you where you were.

It almost pains you with how understanding Spencer was of the whole situation because you knew any other person would be deeply upset. Every other person was upset.

Spencer never was just any other person, you suppose.

“I don’t know how to explain this.” Another lie, you could easily explain the reason.

It’s not that you weren’t ready, it’s that you didn’t feel like you looked ready. The thought of subjecting Spencer to the one dark cornerstone of your being in the early days of being together seemed illogical and burdensome, and so it was more simple to play it off as wanting to take a slow pace.

But, as biology would see it you have needs and your boyfriend just happens to be so detrimentally attractive that the simplest act has been sending you into a hot fit as of late. The culprit this time was an innocent mirror picture of him at the store trying on new trousers. You had no chance.

You had found that your intimacy issues lie within extending it to others, and less with yourself. The solution of you finding release on your own quickly became a habit when you realized there was no fear on your own. There’s no one to let down if you’re alone.

Spencer perches at the foot of the bed, flat hand outstretched on the blanket towards you but keeping a comfortable distance, “You don’t have to explain anything, honey.”

“No I know, but—fuck—I should.” you bury your face, choosing to only speak to him from behind your hands for now, maybe forever.

He takes a moment to take inventory of your physical being—you don’t look in pain. Clearly you didn’t sound in pain. Your face is flushed, and though he’s sitting a little far from you, the heat radiating from your body hits him like a space heater.

“Sweetheart…I’m not upset.” he repeats, in hopes a reminder might provide reassurance.

It doesn’t. “You’re never upset at me, it’s concerning.” you mumble.

“You make it kind of hard to be upset at you, ever really.” Spencer braves and lays a hand on your leg.

You take a deep breath, the cold of his hand grounding you more and more. Spencer senses the calm it’s bringing you and rubs circles into your calf.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” he asks gently.

What are you even feeling? You ponder for a moment—anxious, nervous, bad.

“Embarrassed.”

“Honey, there’s nothing embarrassing about masturbating. In fact, it’s more than healthy to do it to keep cortisol levels low,” he explains, “I just don’t know why you didn’t…want to tell me.”

The guilt swirls in your gut, hearing the twinge of hurt buried beneath the comfort he’s laid out for you. He just wants to help you, but you won’t let him in and that hurts him more.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“It’s just…I…Look it’s…You’re just so hot—“ you slip out, clamping your hand over your mouth before leaking any more intrusive thoughts.

A faint smirk ghosts his face, “I’m…hot?”

“No—Well, yes. I just…ugh.”

“Okay, okay calm down,” he scoots closer and gently brings the hands covering your eyes to rest in your lap, “You don’t need to be all secretive, you know I’d never judge you.”

“I know,”

“I just thought you wanted to wait.”

“I do.”

“But, not with me? It’s okay if it's not with me.”

“Spence, I do. It’s not that.”

“Am I missing something?”

You gulp, “I just…it’s a personal problem. With me. Not you.”

His brows furrow, “Like what, baby? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Yeah, if a doctor can fix my shoddy self esteem and make me like myself again.” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh. 

The pause he takes seems to be ages long before he speaks again, “Angel, how long have you been feeling like that?”

You’ve been caught red-handed, water filling up the tank faster than you can tread, “It’s nothing, I was just joking.”

“Hey,” he says with a rare firmness, “How. Long?”

You deflate under his hard gaze, “A…while…long enough… for it to feel like a…like a default setting, I guess.” you trail off.

Spencer couldn’t hide the hurt on his face if he tried. Not hurt from your lack of admission, hurt that you had felt like this for so long, dealt with this for so long on your own, and he didn’t even know.

All he ever hoped and wanted was for you to be happy, and if he could be the source of that he would ask for nothing more in life. So to hear about you struggling with this, that you felt like you had to keep it to yourself, was heartbreaking.

Spencer remains in his head a little too long as he’s broken out of it by your small voice, “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

He sighs and moves to sit next to you, making sure he stays above the blanket for your comfort. His back is against the headboard of the bed, and he raises his arm a little, gesturing for you to fill the you shaped crevice. You hesitantly move into the space, hating how you feel every move you’re making is calculated, but all of that goes away the second your head meets his chest and his hand comes up to comb through your hair, the other smoothing your arm down, and all you’re left with is him.

“I promise I’m not mad,” he whispers softly, “Just wish you told me. I would have helped you.” He’s intentional in his wording—would, and not could. Could implies he has a choice, a want to do or not do something. I could have helped you, or I could have not helped you. Would is finite, he is doing it because it is programmed in him that caring for you is a need. I would have helped you because it is the only thing I know to be certifiably true, that you deserve to be cared for.

“It sounds stupid out loud but I was afraid you wouldn’t like me the same if you saw me like…that. It seemed logical for me to remove that option altogether.”

His heart aches painfully, and he wishes he could take everyone who’s made you feel that way to target practice. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I would spend every day of my life proving that to you.” he utters with unequivocal resolve.

You sigh out shakily, “You’re too kind to me.”

“I’m always kind to you. You deserve kindness. You deserve a lot of things actually…” he trails off.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Well, did you um—” he trails. You look at him quizzically, he continues, “Like before I came in did you…finish?”

Oh. “Oh. I…I don’t think I did, actually. It’s okay though, no big deal.”

He stares at you intently, “Do you want to?”

Your eyes widen, “Spence oh, no it’s okay really you don’t have to do that.  

“You’re encouraged to say no if you feel even an ounce of doubt, but I’m offering because I love you and I want to show you that you can feel safe with me, even when you feel otherwise.”

The familiar sting returns to your eyes as the tears pool up. You’re not used to anyone putting this much effort and concern for your comfort, it’s a novel feeling but if Spencer is willing to handle you with as much care as he is, you’re ready to welcome that sentiment in with open arms.

“Yeah, yes.” you waver.

He grins and leans down, gingerly pressing his lips to yours. His hand ghosts from your calf to your knee, testing the water before moving more intent. An unwelcome yet familiar onset slowly rises, trying to break through to you, “Wait—“

He retracts his hand immediately, “You okay? We can stop if you need to.”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m fine. I just need a second.” you breath out, trying to self regulate. 

He pulls back his hand but you stop him, “No keep it there, it helps. I just…” You don’t know how to phrase it. You think it’s because you’re not in control. When you’re alone it’s only you at the helm calling the shots. But when it really comes down to it, the lack of control is nothing compared to the lack of predictability that comes with the former. Explaining that out loud was daunting to even think about.

Yet Spencer understands what you need, because he always knows what you need. His hand returns to your knee, giving it a soft squeeze, “You tell me to stop whenever you need to.”

He continues kissing you while smoothing his hand up your leg, making wide and sweeping motions across the plush of your thigh so you can feel where he is and where his hand is going. The gesture is comforting and makes you feel grounded, but your head is in a dreamy haze at how good Spencer’s hands feel on you.

The haze leaves through your lips as Spencer feels you sigh against him, feeling you relax more and more as the seconds go by. His hand reaches your upper thigh, fingers ghosting on the inside. “Is this okay?”

You nod, feeling your nerves idling like a distant wave in the ocean. But Spencer’s presence is a lighthouse shining through the fog and guiding you to his shores while the calm washes over you.

His fingers lightly trace the fabric of your panties, ones that you had slid back up your hips upon his entrance into the room. The motion causes you to jump and he pulls back to gauge your reaction. When he sees no fear in your eyes, more so stunned by your wide eyed gaze, his fingers move with more precision, adding more pressure to your clothed core.

A gentle gasp leaves you as he strokes up and down your slit. You’ve given up on continuing to kiss him, the feeling of his hands being too overwhelming to have both sensations at the same time. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your body involuntarily curving towards him as he draws symbols on you with his index. Your breathing gets heavier and faster the longer he goes, and soon small moans begin to escape you.

He drags his finger to the top of your panties and toys with the band, faintly asking, “You still with me, sweet girl?” You preen into the crevice of his neck as he keeps talking, “Want me to keep going?” 

He feels you nodding into him as you breathlessly whisper, “Please.”

His finger dips below the fabric and travels down to your entrance, gathering the slickness and spreading it all over you. “Fuck,” he curses softly, “Look how wet you are, baby.”

You whimper at his words and Spencer ascends to the heavens if there even is one, and if there is it’s the one where you sound like that for him. He circles back up to your clit, paying special attention to the bundle of nerves before sliding back your slit and repeating the whole sequence a few more times.

Your moans are coming out at a steady pace, and he’s been prodding around your entrance for some time now, teasing and edging you closer. “Gonna put a finger in now, okay? Doing so good for me, baby.” he murmurs.

The feeling of his finger entering you is satiating. But it’s not enough, and you need more. “Spence,” you manage to get out, “Can take another one, please.” His eyes shut tight as he revels in your desperation for him, and how cynical he must be to love having you at his mercy this much. He would confess the darkest of sins if you asked him in that tone, and he has no choice but to oblige. He stifles a groan at how easily the second finger slid in, his other hand moving up to play with your hair and cradle your head close to his chest as he works his ministrations.

The familar coil builds in your gut, but at an intensity you’ve never felt before. His fingers move in and out of you urgently, his thumb returning to your clit. He’s a man determined to get you there, and your moans and cries of his name only spur him on further. After a few minutes your moans and cries turn into whines and babbles, and he knows you’re close.

His head leans down to croon in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay. I got you, sweet girl. You can come, ‘m right here.”

It’s enough to push you over the edge and you come harder than you ever have on your own, the waves of your climax overtaking you completely. Spencer continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm, talking you the whole way down. Mutters of praises and kisses flow through your subconscious as the euphoria high takes its peak and you come back down to this realm.

His hand smoothes your hair back as you continue to pant against his chest, words unable to find you.

“You okay?”

You finally catch your breath, “That was—fuck—the most insane orgasm I have ever had.”

Spencer beams at this. For one, his obvious and impressive skills that have stunned you into oblivion. And two, because you look so relaxed. The stark difference of your anxiety filled face from when he first came into the room to the blissed out daze you have right now makes his heart swell five sizes up.

He hugs you closer and whispers, “I’m so proud of you, angel. Thank you for trusting me.”

Sleep is fighting you hard as you laugh airily and tuck yourself under his arm again, “I don’t know why I thought that would be scarier.”

He sighs, his smile faltering but still fond, “Past experiences and self perception complicate the anxiety around sex and intimacy. It’s a natural response based on your lived experiences.”

“Oh.” you mutter, slight deject in your tone.

“But we can work on it, if you want.” he adds, “It’s all up to you with what you’re comfortable with and how you want to do it. If you’ll allow me, I’d love to help you in any way I can, angel.”

You really don’t know how you got so lucky. Someone so kind, and patient, and willing to be with you as you navigate these things you normally would have kept to yourself. You feel grateful to be able to bare a piece of yourself to him, and know that he would receive it with open arms, wrapping it up and handling it with as much care as he can bear.

You cuddle closer, and mumble before your eyes succumb to sleep, “Love you. So much.”

Spencer looks down maybe two seconds later and you’re already out like a light. He chuckles softly to himself and whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know, sweet girl. Good night.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[blusool]

Well-Conditioned : Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki was acting oddly. And that was underwhelming of a statement to put it because he was all over the place. Fidgeting, crackling, and irritation were through the roof. Katsuki was barely in his seat even. Bouncing his leg, he couldn't help but feel like he did something wrong. Why else, wouldn’t you kiss his cheek as you always did whenever he did something for you?

Katsuki sucked ass when it came to talking love. But it wasn’t that he didn’t show it through his actions. Softened gaze dripping honey each time he wiped his sweat palms on his pants before cupping your cheeks. There was no way he’s gonna get the sticky vile flammable on you—his precious. 

Katsuki showed his love when he snatched your backpack off your shoulder, throwing it over his while he dragged you out of the class. He earned himself a sickly sweet kiss on his cheek, showing that you acknowledged his actions and their meaning. It wasn’t an ‘I love you,’ but that’s what anyone but them would say.

Katsuki wasn’t big on grand gestures of love either but he made do with little trinkets and stickers he bought because ‘he thought of you’. And you like it that way. Or at least that’s what he inferred when you would jump into his arms, kissing all over his face.

He surely couldn’t write about his love, he tried that crap and ended up charring his desk black. But he packed you bentos whenever you were to travel back home from the UA dorms. He made sure to put in extra effort and make the fanciest dishes in case your parents were to see the food and judge him off it ( a good potential husband?). Before you would have seen the inside contents or noticed a lacking love note he should have written to you, he would have his arm tugged down, his precious on her toes, to press a big smooch to his cheek. 

Katsuki was more than gentlemanly for you, he was your boyfriend, so, of course, he tied your shoelaces for you (why do you still use the bunny ears method, is his excuse), draping his jacket over your legs whenever you wore skirts, all because he knew you liked to manspread worse than him. He carries pads and hair ties in his bag, but which boyfriend wouldn’t? He holds your heels with a grumpy frown, holding your waist to ensure you didn’t trip in his shoes because you thought you could handle being in heels all day. 

Katsuki did all this not for praise or compliment. No, he wasn’t obligated to do these either, but he did it because that’s what a good boyfriend would do for you. That however didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate or relish the kisses he received each time he showed his love through his actions. 

So what was different today? When he draped his jacket around your shoulder today, why didn’t he get his kiss? And he knows you noticed it, turning your head to him offer your sweet smile, before returning back to your conversation with Mina. 

THAT’S IT? Katsuki was confused, he had even leaned in to receive his daily dose of kiss, instead of awkwardly standing back straight noticing his instinct. Was he desperate? No. Was he needy? Maybe. Why can’t a man get his share of kisses?

Staring at you annoyed he waited for you to notice. 

BUT YOU NEVER DID.  

He even huffed thrice, each time only receiving a distracted rub on his thigh while you gossiped with Mina. Gosh, he wanted to explode her right now. When he finally got over his petty subtle hints he just grabbed your face to face him. 

"How long will it take ya' to kiss me, brat?” 

Katsuki was easy though. Maybe not for everyone, but his little doll had him wrapped around her finger. When you just smiled innocently at him, pecking his lips without a question. The beast was finally appeased. 

“Thank you for the jacket, ‘Suki”

Goddamn, this woman really had conditioned him to seek her kisses without a clue in her pretty head.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated >.<

please lemme know if you wanna be added to my taglist. my inbox is open for any requests too if you guys might have any.

[emchante]

thighs

masterlist | requesting rules

summary: daniel notices how much you love his thighs, yet are too shy to mention it. he shows you what you've been missing by not telling him before now.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, thigh riding, use of good girl, slight dirty talk.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hi!! i’m super excited to start posting on this blog. of course, the first post had to be dedicated to daniel and his thighs, so i hope you enjoy! requests are open, so if anyone has any prompts or ideas, please send them into my inbox! + a massive thank you to @thef1diary for beta reading this, and inspiring me to start the account.

daniel knew you loved his thighs, it wasn’t exactly a well kept secret. he was sure all of your friends knew too. your eyes wouldn’t leave the meat of his thighs when they were on display – which was often, god bless the extreme heat of most places you travelled to for making him wear shorts everyday.

it wasn’t something that you spoke about often though, in fact, daniel realised you had never really brought it up yourself. you were shy, didn’t really like bringing such things up yourself. daniel usually had to coax what you wanted out of you, and tonight wasn’t any different.

daniel trailed kisses from the nape of your neck, up your jaw until he reached your ear. he whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you how beautiful you were, how he would do anything you wanted. your face was on fire at the wet kisses, the sultry tone of his voice already starting a fire in your belly. you tilted your head to give him more access to your neck, but he pulled away from you, causing your eyes to follow him.

he moved his rose-inked hand to cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to gently stroke your cheek. you leaned into his hand, enjoying any and all touch you received from him. you only had your eyes shut momentarily before daniel gave your chin a squeeze, causing them to flutter open again.

“for me to give you what you want,” he started, his voice low. “you need to tell me exactly what it is.”

you smiled at his words. daniel, ever the gentlemen, always doing what you wanted. it was never any different. “i just want you, danny.”

daniel let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he looked down. you furrowed your brows, confused at his reaction. with a tilt of your head, you asked him what was so funny.

“you are,” he told you, looking back up. “always too shy to tell me what you want. always have to work for it to get it out, don’t i?” daniel explained, raising a brow with a grin. you felt your face heat up again, but it wasn’t due to arousal this time – not for the most part, anyways.

“what are you–” you had started to question him, but you cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as daniel moved you to sit on his right thigh. you looked to him for answers, but you were only met with a small smirk on daniel’s face.

“i see the way you look at my thighs, sweetheart,” he began to explain, moving his hands to rest on your hips. his thumbs rubbed small circles into them as he continued to speak to you. “you’re always looking when i’m in shorts, eyes always on me. you know how hard i get when i watch you squeeze your thighs together, all because you can’t contain yourself?”

your jaw dropped at daniel calling you out. you knew that you weren’t exactly subtle about your interest in his thighs, but his words made your full body heat up. you stuttered over your words, but you couldn’t get a coherent sentence out. all you managed to squeak out was a “sorry”, and it only made daniel laugh.

“sorry? for what?” he asked as he laughed, moving his right hand off of your hip to grab at your own. he moved it to rest on the fabric of his clearly straining shorts, making you gulp lightly. “you mustn't have heard me, your gaze gets me so fucking hard.”

you meekly nodded, not really sure how to respond to him. daniel knew what you were like though, he didn’t expect much else. he liked how shy you were, how easily flustered he managed to get you. moving his hand off of your own, he slowly ran it up your bare leg, allowing it to slip under your short skirt, smirking as his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.

“so wet for me,” he cooed, and you could only whine as his fingers were so close to where you needed them. you let yourself rut against his thigh once to show him you were desperate for him. daniel’s eyes darkened as he felt you move against his thigh, and he couldn’t contain the groan that left his throat.

slipping his fingers to move your underwear to the side, daniel’s left hand dragged you across his thigh once more to test it, and he couldn’t have landed the jackpot quicker. the feeling of your bare pussy against his thigh, starting to soak it due to how wet you were was all he needed.

“fuck, darling,” he moaned, his right hand moving back up to your hips so he could guide you through it. “you gonna ride my thigh? like a good girl?” he asked you, looking right into your eyes as he said it.

the friction of his thigh against your clit, along with the good girl caused a whine to escape your mouth. you nodded as you moved your hands onto his shoulders, gripping them tightly as you continued to rut against him, desperately lapping up the pleasure you got from your bare cunt against his tattooed thigh.

you suddenly came to a halt though, causing you to break out of the pleasure-bound spell you seemed to be entranced in. daniel’s brows were furrowed, his hands gripping your hips tightly so you weren’t able to continue your movements.

“danny please– let me move,” you pleaded with him, looking down at his thigh as you desperately tried to move your hips. his grip was too strong for you to fight against, and daniel only tutted, clicking his tongue to get your eyes to land on him.

“so now you can talk? i want verbal confirmation as soon as i ask you a question,” he told you, his hands squeezing your hips even tighter to make sure you understood. you were sure it was going to leave bruises tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, in fact, the thought only turned you on more.

“i‘m sorry, dan,” you apologised, eyes pleading with him to continue so you could go back to what you were doing. he nodded, and repeated his question for you. “so, are you going to be a good girl and ride my thigh?” he asked you, eyes trained on your face.

you nodded again, but verbally confirmed it this time too. “yes, danny. i’ll ride your thigh,” you told him, making a small smile appear on his face. you tried to move your hips again, but daniel was still holding you in place. you whined in frustration, hopelessly trying to recreate the friction from moments ago but to no avail. he tutted, shaking his head at you.

“tell me you’ll be my good girl,” he commanded, eyes dark. one thing about daniel, he was always going to make you tell him you were a good girl. his good girl.

“going to be your good girl– but please dan, i need– your thigh again,” you plead, and if it wasn’t obvious by your constant attempts at grinding against your thigh, the urgency in your voice would’ve been a dead giveaway.

“alright gorgeous, you can have it,” he cooed, loosening the grip of his hands on your hips so you could move, but still holding them securely so he could help move you against him.

you couldn’t believe it had taken so long for this to happen, and it was so much better than any fantasy you ever had about it. each grind against his inked thigh sent sparks shooting throughout your body, the whimpers and moans escaping your lips were music to daniel’s ears as his dark, hungry eyes watched the way your body moved.

daniel groaned at the sight of your tits bouncing each time you rut against him, moving between watching them, and the facial expressions you were making due to the immense pleasure from his thigh alone.

“you look so perfect riding my thigh, sweetheart,” he started, making your eyes land back on his face as you focused on his words. “soaking it too, because of how fucking wet you are,” he groaned, and bit his lip at the moan you let out at his words.

he couldn’t stop himself from moving one of his hands up to your chest, toying with your hardened nipple through the fabric. the friction of the fabric, along with the touch of his thumb sent a streak of pleasure through you, head snapping back as you let out a guttural moan.

“can’t keep my eyes off these, either,” he continued, alternating between circling his thumb around your nipple, to squeezing the swell of your breast. “everything about you is perfect. made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, looking into your eyes for confirmation.

“made for you and you only, danny,” you sighed, panting as you felt yourself getting closer. daniel could tell too, your voice pitches up, and he feels your hand’s grip onto him tighter.

“such a good girl f’me. getting close, aren’t you?” he questioned, despite already knowing the answer. he just wanted to hear your needy, desperate voice say anything. you nodded frantically at him, high pitched whines escaping your throat.

“so– fuck, so close, dan” you breathlessly admitted, slightly angling your hips so your clit was getting more friction, and daniel knew you found a good angle when a sudden but pleasant moan escaped you.

daniel suddenly got an idea. “got an idea, sweetheart. it’s gonna help you feel even better, do you trust me?” he asked, waiting to see if you’d agree, or rather just let yourself finish like this. his eyes lit up when you squeaked out a please, hands gripping your waist a little tighter before he started to bounce his leg.

it was somehow better than before, a new experience which felt like absolute euphoria. you let out a shaky, breathy moan as your eyes rolled back, unable to control yourself any longer. daniel moved you back slightly, a little closer to his knee than his thigh, and it worked like magic, as it worked even better.

“fuck– yes, yes daniel–” you panted out, almost falling into the category of babbling due to how much you kept repeating almost incomprehensible chatter, too focused on the feeling of pleasure to respond properly.

“let go for me, c’mon. cum for me,” he coaxed you, feeling your thighs tighten around his own, before you came, chanting out daniel’s name as you rode your high. you immediately fell into daniel’s chest, body slouching as you sighed, smiling lazily when his arms wrapped around you.

it was silent for a while, the only noises being your heavy breaths until you recovered back to your normal state. daniel’s hand gently stroked up and down your back, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head as he let you recover from your orgasm. you used your still shaky hands to push yourself up, meeting face-to-face with daniel as he smiled softly at you, leaning in to initiate a passionate kiss between you.

daniel carefully carried you into your shared bedroom not long afterwards, making sure you were a-okay before helping you get into fresh pajamas and getting you ready for bed. much to your dismay, of course, as you wanted him to clean himself up first, especially after the mess you made on his thigh, but daniel paid no mind to your whining, carrying on with his duties of making sure you were sorted for the night.

[bigsisdreams]

You and your little sister were never really affectionate with each other until after you transitioned. Infrequent "take care"s and "I love you"s turned into tight hugs, her pulling you closer all the time and having long conversations on family meetings. Of course, you feel happy being able to openly express those emotions, she's such a sweet child.

The problem is, you can't help but feel self conscious when she drinks a bit too much and starts putting her hand on your thighs over your dress. You can't avoid feeling aroused when she starts being a bit too touchy, pulling you close, hugging you all the time, even giving you kisses on the cheek. Like, that's normal sibling stuff, right? At least for some siblings? Maybe, so you start feeling like a perverted lesbian for getting all fluffy about it.

Today's just another family meeting, and before anxiety starts pulling you in, you decide to calm yourself by drinking the worries away. You don't intend to get drunk, but your sister (who is now sitting by your side) seems to have the exact opposite idea.

It's fine, you do some small talk with your parents and some cousins that you don't even know the name of, and in between, you take your phone to check the still empty chat inbox, while you try to avoid doomscrolling or opening Tumblr (the chances of a porn bot appearing on your timeline not being zero). Whatever, you just share some cat memes on your socials and—

Silence. Your lap suddenly feels cold and wet. You realize your sister has spilled a glass of beer over your dress. You look at her face, she's in shock, so it was clearly by accident.

— I'M SO SORRY — She says as she takes some napkins and starts patting your dress. The rest of your family starts talking over each other.

— N-No, it's okay, it was an accident — You are now patting your dress as well — See? It will be dry in no time

— I'm really sorry, I should have paid more attention — She's still patting the wet fabric, pulling your dress up to dry your tights.

Is she aware of what she's doing? You guess she isn't, and good thing your family has moved onto other stuff else you fear they'd realize how flustered you're feeling right now. You finish up drying the fabric, you pull her hand and press it tightly for a bit to let her know it's all right.

5 minutes pass, then 10, then 15. You're still thinking a bit about it, not the beer thing, of course. The party is becoming a bit overwhelming, so you consider standing up and maybe watching TV instead. You know this is not your house anymore, but it's still a home, and you got a couple hours more before the last bus.

— I'm gonna take a nap I think — Your sister says, looking a bit drowsy. She takes a look at you — I can lend you some clothes if you wanna — She says as she puts her hand over yours

— Alright — You don't even question it, your dress fabric is still a bit humid and you feel gross, being totally honest. You take a look at your family, nobody's paying attention, you both stand up and walk towards her room. — I'll take a shower. Can you take the clo-

— I'll leave them on my bed. I'll be changing in the meanwhile, don't worry

So you totally don't, at all. You take a shower without even thinking about your little sister being all touchy and sweet while drunk. Of course you especially don't think about her pulling your dress up and putting her hands on your thighs— (sarcasm). You pick a towel and dry yourself up, then you walk into her room.

Everything's looking the same as always, though you notice she now has a little bookshelf with a mix of YA and academic books. She's on her bed, looking away, now styling a pajama blouse and short pants, the violet color looks pretty on her pale skin.

— I'm gonna change — You warn her, she just raises her thumb. Still, you dress shyly on the opposite corner of the room, keeping the towel on until after you've put on some panties and a t-shirt, then the sweatpants. All her clothes are smaller, so the t-shirt fits tightly over your still-growing breasts, which makes you feel embarrassed.

You turn towards her bed, and realize she's now looking your way— Since when? The thought makes you fluster, but you decide to shuush it away

— Can you stay for a bit? — She asks, softly. Her voice sounds adorable, you wonder if what happened maybe left her in a vulnerable space.

You just nod and sit by the border of the bed. You put your hand over hers and start rubbing it softly.

— It's okay alright? I'm not mad, just so you know — You say, and it seems to help as her expression softens

She pulls you by your waist, letting you know she wants a hug, or maybe some weight to calm herself down. It's okay, you let your body press onto hers, your head now resting over her shoulder.

After a while, you start being conscious of her warm breath on your neck, and though you feel guilty about the thoughts coming to your brain in quick succession, you stay calm by reminding yourself this is not about you. Some minutes later, you're pretty sure she's falling asleep, the silence's reigning over the room and the thoughts are calming down.

And then she starts rubbing her face on your neck, her lips feel made of cotton against your exposed skin. Oh god.

— T-That tickles — Is the only thing that feels apt to say right now. She stops, but just for a bit, before she starts doing it once again, now rubbing her lips against the whole length of your neck and part of your shoulder.

— Is that so? — She says, teasingly, quite close to your ear

Your mind's now racing, you feel like she's crossing a line but you're not really sure which. Do you like this? You don't really want her to stop— Your hand's on her shoulder, and so you dig your fingers a bit into her clothes, resisting the temptation to just run your nails on her soft skin instead.

She responds right away by now opening and closing her lips over your neck, almost as if she wanted to bite you. She's breathing harder- Are you putting too much weight on her? You pull apart, but she pulls you by your waist again, your breasts now brushing against each other. You're now aware of how warm and moist it feels between your thighs, and just when you're forming a single coherent thought, she bites your neck tenderly, then brushes what you believe is the tip of her tongue over it.

You let a single deep breath leave your mouth. A silent moan, really. She once again puts her teeth on your skin, now biting harder. This is happening. Oh gosh, you're making out with your little sister. You let out a soft moan, as you now dig your face on her shoulder, and your nails deep on her skin.

She responds by forcing her knee in between your legs, and pulling the whole weight of your body over hers— Come on, be good — She says. You're now looking at each other's faces, she's blushing red and breathing heavily, you're basically panting and you're sure your hair looks like a birds nest, whatever.

Masks are off. Now it's you that breaks the ice by pushing your knee deep in between her thighs, she's just as hard if not more than yourself, and as she moans softly while looking you right in the eyes, you can't help but think she's the most precious girl on the entire planet.

— Can I kiss you? — You ask, she nods.

And as you lock mouths together, as your tongues intertwine and your saliva mixes with hers, you keep thinking more and more how her lips taste just like cotton candy.

[emeraldserenade]

Operation Kiss And Tell ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: You kiss Joaquín while on a mission to keep your cover

tw: fem!reader, reader wears a dress, none?, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

If you sent me the request that's sitting in my inbox, I promise I am working on it. Also, I had decided during class today that I would write a fic as long as the notes my professor gave out today is. It's 17 pages front and back, so I am deciding what to write. There is a poll that will be open for 1 day (starting a little after this is posted), so if you want a say go and vote.

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You and Joaquín were placed together, normally you never went undercover. You stayed in missions where you didn't have to pretend you were something else, it made you nervous to pretend. You always thought that you would ruin the mission with your inability to fake things, so when Sam told you that you had to pretend to be Joaquín's wife, you were terrified. Not of Joaquín, you could never be, but of the idea of faking something like that. Especially when you knew you were in love with Joaquín.

"Come on, it shouldn't be too hard," you mumbled to yourself as you adjusted the dress you were wearing.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Sam popped up in your door way making you yelp in surprise. Joaquín and Bucky both ended up behind Sam ready to help you.

"God, Sam, you scared the shit out of me!" You placed a hand over your heart and Bucky grumbled and left the doorway. Joaquín hung around for a little longer before leaving too.

"You didn't answer the question," Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, looking you over with a thoughtful look.

"Yes, I am talking to myself," you told him, sitting down next to him.

"Nervous?" Sam wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

"A little, yeah," you admitted, Sam ended up as your closest friend over the few months.

"Is it because you think you're going to be bad or because you're hopelessly in love with Joaquín," Sam questioned.

"I am not in love with," you paused as Joaquín walked into the room fully ready to go.

"Sure you aren't," Sam told you, not even caring that Joaquín was in the room.

"Are you ready?" Joaquín shifted his stance under both your and Sam's gaze.

"Yeah, let's go," you stood up and brushed your hands down your dress.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"I'm sorry," you muttered, knowing what you were about to do. Joaquín didn't have time to ask what you were apologizing for before your lips landed on his. Joaquín barely hesitated before he was kissing you back with just as much intensity as you.

You peaked an eye open and saw your target slowly grabbing for his gun still. In another moment of panic, you pulled Joaquín closer by his collar. You felt his hands land on your waist and pull your hips flush against his. Another peak at the target let you know he let his gun go but was still watching you two. You decided to make the most out of this and completely focused on the feel of Joaquín's lips on yours.

"We've got the guy, where are you two?" Sam's voice from your comms pulled both you and Joaquín out of the kiss. You shared a look with Joaquín before you wiped the stray lipstick on his lips away and ran for the doors. You two met up with Sam and Bucky outside where they had the buy already in police custody.

"Sorry, we got caught in the crowd," you lied, knowing Sam would question you more about it later.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Got caught in the crowd?" Sam walked into the room you were staying at, you were freshly showered and lounging in bed in just an oversized shirt.

"Shut the door," you didn't even look up from your phone when you told him.

"So what really happened?" Sam ended up on the bed next to you, you could smell his body wash wafting off his skin.

"I kissed him," you put your phone down. "And he kissed me back," you added.

"Explanation?" Sam questioned.

"I noticed that the target saw us, he was reaching for his gun so in a moment of panic I kissed him. And he kissed me back, and I pulled him closer, and he pulled me closer. And his lips are so soft, and," Sam cut you off.

"Ok, I don't think I need to know more," Sam told you and you nodded. "That explains why he's just staring into pace with a stupid love sick look on his face," Sam told you and you looked at him.

"What?" You sat up straighter.

"Yeah, ever since he got out of the shower he's just been staring at the wall with the stupidest look of love plastered on his face," Sam explained. You and Sam talked for a while before he decided he was ready for bed, leaving you alone again.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You might have been surprised when Joaquín walked into the room later that night, if it weren't for the fact that he had been coming to you after nightmares.

"Joaquín?" Your sleep filled brain made out the vague shape and look of Joaquín walking in the door.

"Hey," he gently greeted you before just slipping into the bed. Unlike the other nights, he hesitates to pull you closer to him.

"You ok?" You gently questioned, aware of how late it is.

"Yeah, just," Joaquín sighed and you got worried. "Did the kiss mean anything to you? I know you kissed me because of the target spotting us but," Joaquín trailed off and you smiled at him.

"Joaquín, that kiss meant so much to me," you admitted, he finally pulled you flush against him so you two could cuddle into each other's side.

"Good because it meant so much to me too," he told you and there was a silent agreement that whatever you two were going to do about this, you would do it together.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[daydreamgoddess14]

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Brunch

This is it, the final meal! I can't thank you enough for the love on this little runaway mini series - it's been a dream. I love you all so much, and I love this bunch of idiots too. I can't wait to write more Tower Tales, I can't wait to write more Bucky. I just can't wait to write more 😅. Come talk to me, my inbox is open, currently empty, and I swear I'm trying to keep on top of it 🤭

I would LOVE so much to hear your headcannons, random prompts, and story ideas too, so if there's anything you want to see - let me know!

Thunderbolts* / F!Reader, no warnings, just some domestic sweetness. Bucky x F!Reader.

Word count: 2k

By the time Bucky had manhandled you toward his bedroom, a faint pink glow was settling over the Manhattan skyline - and there wasn't a surface in the kitchen left untouched. He'd washed your by-now matted hair, teasing out each knot and tangle with slow, careful fingers. He'd cleaned the honey from your body, first with his tongue and then with his cedarwood soap.

You'd done the same for him, tracing each crevice of vibranium, the slope of his collarbone, the curve of his spine.

"Think we can skip the dishwasher this time," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive scar tissue at his shoulder.

"This time?" he grinned, guiding you back against the cool tile.

Showering with him. Dressing beside him. Even after everything, it still felt so intimate - his hands always near, always on you.

"Do I look presentable?" you asked eventually, hair damp but clean, tucked into fresh pajamas.

"Yeah... I need to fix that," he said, reaching for you again. And you let him.

An hour later, respectable again and muttering to yourself about playing it cool, you walked into the kitchen like you hadn't spent the whole night being ruined against every surface in it.

The radio went on, the coffee went on, and you got started on waffle batter.

Yelena and John came through first, fresh from the gym.

"Two more minutes, Walker, two more and I would have kicked your ass -"

"No, no way. I'm not buyin' that!"

"Will you tell him -" she complained, hopping into the stool nearest where you were cooking. "Ohh, girl you look tired. You didn't sleep?"

"Uhh, not great, I guess," you shrugged, focusing on the smooth batter.

"But it's so weird -"

"What's weird?" Your eyes widened in fear. The question tumbled out of your mouth far quicker than it ought to have. At the coffee machine, Bucky looked up at you.

"Your skin is like... glowing. How'd you do that?" She took an apple from the bowl and bit down. "When I'm tired my skin is just grey and kinda... ugh."

"I... have a really great serum."

"Oh yeah? Like a super serum?" She asked.

"Kinda, yeah, I guess."

Coffee sloshed from the pot and onto the counter as Bucky somehow managed to turn his laugh into a cough.

"Uhuh. OK well, next time you go to, like, Target or whatever, get me one? Unless it's crazy expensive then do not do that."

"I can do that, of course I can."

You didn't look at her. Instead, you focused all your energy on pouring the first ladle of batter into the waffle iron like it was a delicate science experiment.

Next to you, Bucky placed a cup of coffee on the counter, a silent offering, his hand brushing the small of your back as he passed behind you. Familiar and way too casual.

"Hey guys, morning."

Bob strolled in, grinning, catching John's high five midair.

"Morning, Bob," Yelena chirped. Then, "Ow - hey!"

She glared at John, who had attempted to snag a grape from the fruit she was cutting.

She lifted her arm to block him, then froze.

"What the hell...?"

From her wrist to her elbow was a sticky golden smear.

"Oh shit," you blurted, too loud.

You snatched a kitchen towel from the sink and tossed it her way. "Sorry. It's - uh, honey. I knocked a jar over last night. Must've missed a bit cleaning up."

Yelena inspected the mess with the disgusted curiosity of someone poking roadkill.

"You think? Wow, how much did you spill?"

"Quite a lot," you said, a little too fast.

There was a pause.

Bucky coughed lightly - or maybe laughed - then sipped his coffee.

Bob arched an eyebrow. His gaze bounced between you, the counter, and Bucky.

Then he said, "hey did you use Bucky's soap?"

You turned back to the waffles. The iron hissed. You desperately tried to think of a response.

"Uhh I just used whatever was in the guest bathroom."

"Huh, I'm sure it's the same - don't you think so, Bucky?"

Next to you, you felt Bucky's fingers graze your hip.

Subtle.

"I put some in there. There wasn't any in there when I checked." Bucky shrugged.

"Makes sense," Bob smiled. You returned it a little more cautiously.

You took a measured step away from him and helped Yelena pile the cut fruit into a bowl.

"No honey for the waffles," Yelena clicked her tongue, thinking.

"I've got some syrup," you remembered, heading towards the pantry. You scanned the shelves inside, looking for the crate of squeezy bottles.

"- need more napkins -" you heard him say from the doorway. Before you could reach for the syrup, Bucky was there. Right behind you. Close.

"You moved away from me?" he murmured, voice low, wicked.

"You looked at me like -" you shook your head, already breathless. "Like you wanted something."

"I do," he said simply.

You turned, and he caught your wrist gently, drawing you flush to his chest. "You're doing so good pretending," he whispered, brushing his nose against your jaw. "Sitting out there like you didn't spend the whole night screaming my name. Like I'm not still thinking about how you tasted."

Your knees wobbled. "Bucky -"

He kissed you. Slow, filthy, possessive. The kind of kiss that made you forget why you'd walked in there at all.

A floorboard creaked behind the pantry door.

You both sprang apart like guilty teenagers.

"I'm just gonna..." you grabbed the syrup blindly. "finish the waffles."

He grabbed the napkins and followed you out, his hand lingering on your ass as he overtook you until the kitchen.

Ava had turned up in the two minutes you'd been gone. She was frowning at the floor-to-ceiling windows that wrapped around the penthouse.

"Uh... why is there a handprint on the glass?"

Everyone looked over. It was smeared, unmistakable. Suspiciously high up.

You froze with the syrup bottle in hand. Luckily, Bucky didn't miss a beat. "Probably Walker. He's always pressing his greasy hands on stuff."

"Excuse you?" John squinted. "I haven't even touched that window."

Alexei guffawed, "maybe someone is getting up to something kinky, eh?!"

Bucky shrugged innocently.

You looked back at the waffle iron and pretended to check the timer.

"I think housekeeping probably just missed a bit," you said more to the iron than the rest of the room.

"They're pretty good," Bob frowned, "they don't usually miss anything."

"Is true, they cleared all vodka from my room. All of it, gone!" Alexei pointed out.

"That's not a bad thing, buddy," Join clapped him on the back.

You and Bucky moved around each other like you'd been choreographed, he handed you a plate for the first batch of waffles without looking, you passed him the whisk for the batter.

You shared the space, no bumps or pauses. You were doing your best to stay normal, stay focused, but then Bucky tilted his head and caught your eye across the counter.

He smiled and you automatically returned it. His gaze dropped - barely, subtly, but just enough - to your mouth. You licked your bottom lip without thinking.

He inhaled sharply.

You ducked your head, busying yourself with the waffle iron. Your cheeks burned.

And still... his gaze on you lingered.

By the coffee machine, you noticed Ava leaning close to Yelena, whispering something behind her hand.

Yelena tilted her head. "You think?"

As she asked the question, she caught you watching.

She didn't look away.

Instead, she squinted at you, like she was solving a puzzle.

"...You're blushing," she said slowly, loud enough to draw the kitchen's attention.

"I'm hot," you replied quickly, too quickly.

Bucky chose that moment to make an interested noise into his coffee - something that sounded like a hum of agreement.

Ava snorted.

"Tsk, tsk. Something is weird here," Yelena muttered, eyes flicking between the two of you. But she didn't push - just took the fruit bowl to the table.

With everyone distracted, Bucky leaned in again, appearing to reach for a napkin. His mouth brushed your temple.

"You good?" he murmured, low and warm. Just for you.

You nodded, barely. "You're not helping."

"I'm not trying to."

He pulled back just as John turned to grab cutlery.

You scanned the counter for anything else, then finally joined the others.

There was only one seat left - next to Bucky. He slid his chair closer. A little too close.

Under the table, his hand found your leg.

You inhaled sharply, then covered it up quickly. "Bob, could you pass the berries, please?"

The table returned to its usual rhythm - chatting, teasing, bickering. You let yourself settle, relaxing into the noise and comfort of it all.

Bucky's hand remained, warm on your thigh.

Then it moved. A little higher.

You jumped. Your glass wobbled.

Yelena narrowed her eyes. Ava bit back a smirk. Bob exchanged a knowing look with Alexei.

John pointed his fork at Bucky. "You're not exactly subtle today, man."

Ava snorted into her coffee.

"I'm not trying to be," Bucky said, calm as anything.

Silence.

Then Yelena grinned, triumphantly. "I knew it! You are not sneaky at all!"

You groaned and buried your face in your hands as laughter broke out around the table.

Then Ava froze, mid-bite.

"Wait... wait a second."

She slowly looked toward the suspicious smear still faintly visible on the glass. Then to the counter.

"Oh my God," she said. "You did it here, didn't you?"

Yelena gasped, leaping out of her seat. "I was cutting fruit right there!"

John let out a bark of laughter. "Barnes, you absolute animal."

"You have no shame, Winter Soldier?! I love it!" Alexei declared, somehow beside himself with delight.

Bucky sipped his coffee, utterly unapologetic. "Not especially."

That was when Bob leaned forward in his chair, fixing Bucky with a level look. "Just so we're clear, you hurt her and I'll break every bone in your body. One at a time. Slowly."

Yelena didn't even blink. "I know how to make it look like accident."

Ava, picking at her waffle, added lightly, "I know at least six ways to remove a kneecap without breaking the skin."

"Jesus," Bucky muttered, half-grinning, half-unnerved.

"She's not kidding. She showed me once." Yelena glowered.

John shrugged. "You think we're kidding?"

Then, with a grin he added, "we like her more than we like you, man. No offense."

Alexei pointed his fork. "If you cause sadness, I cause chaos."

You tried - and failed - to hide a smile as Bucky glanced around the table, looking more and more like a man walking a very tight rope.

You watched them, your face hot, your heart full. "Ok wow, I feel very... protected. And mildly terrified."

Bucky, cool as ever, slung his arm behind your chair.

"Ok, ok. Loud and clear. But for the record -"

He looked at you. Soft now. "I'm not just... messing around."

The words came before he could stop them.

"I'm in love with her."

Silence.

Yelena blinked. Ava's mouth dropped open slightly. John just stared, while Bob and Alexei beamed.

Your breath caught.

The world narrowed for a moment - the waffles, the table, the windows smeared with honey - all faded.

"You're..." you started, but your voice didn't work. You tried again. "You're... what?"

Bucky's hand tensed slightly where it rested behind you, but he didn't look away. "In love with you," he repeated, steady this time.

The room was dead silent. Waiting with bated breath.

"Is like The Bold and The Beautiful," Alexei whispered.

Yelena prodded him, Bob shushed him.

"Ok," you said softly. Then your smile broke through, helpless and giddy. "Ok."

His answering smile was almost shy, barely held back by the smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Yelena made a quiet squealing noise and immediately tried to disguise it with a cough.

You laughed.

And just like that, the tension broke, the room came alive again, and the conversation shifted around you.

But Bucky didn't look away.

And under the table, his fingers curled around yours.

Bob dug into his plate and gave an approving nod. "Waffles are really good, by the way."

Bucky leaned in, mouth near your ear. "Second best thing I'm gonna eat today."

You choked on your coffee. "James!"

The look you gave him was pure disbelief - and flushed just enough to make Ava suspicious.

He just smiled, unapologetic. Then, loudly enough for everyone for everyone to hear asked:

"So... what's for dinner?"

FIN

Please note, may contain sugar. Don't forget to tip your hostess with reblogs and ALWAYS ask for second helpings!

Tagging on request: @doilooklikeagiveafrack @althea-tavalas @tellybearryyyy @delfitaylorsversiom131989 @maryevm @ramp-it-up @nissaimmortal @thebuckybarnesvault @loserbaby66 @alagalaska @breezeybre

[rafeovermorals]

CELIBACY - RAFE CAMERON

it’s been too long, celibacy what do you want? tell it to me dropped to my knees let me break your streak, i’m begging you, please

content: inspired on the song celibacy by partynextdoor and drake. includes smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, cream pie, rafe kinda creeps on reader a bit, MINORS DNI!!!!

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic let alone my first time posting on tumblr, please bare with me! still trying to figure out a good layout and there may be misspellings so i’m sorry. feedback is greatly appreciated!! and i’m opening my inbox to requests or questions to talk about rafe/drew/etc.

“you haven’t been fucked in how long?” sarah asked you a bit too loud, her eyes wide in shock at your confession.

you had just told her that you were going on over a year celibate. four hundred and thirty two days.. that’s if you were counting, of course.

it initially started when you and your boyfriend broke up. a drunken fight over jealousy resulted in three years down the drain. you were in no rush to find another sexual partner anytime soon because he was your first for everything. first kiss, first touch, first love. it took you a few months to go through the stages of grief but you got over him eventually, except your standards were different now. through your healing, you realized that you settled for a lot of things that you shouldn’t have.

one of those things being his performance during sex, or lack there of. it was mediocre to say the least, all about him, him, him. you tried to excuse it with the fact that you were his first too, and maybe he just didn’t know any better. but as time went on, nothing changed. he didn’t listen to your wants or needs, and certainly couldn’t fulfill your deepest desires. you were convinced that no one ever would, so you stayed celibate.

you hadn’t even kissed someone since him. you weren’t sure if you still remembered what it felt like.

“sarah!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, giving her a light smack on the arm to hush her. “talk quieter, i don’t need ward hearing anything about my sex life.” you scrunched up your nose at the thought.

“the man is ancient, he can’t hear shit.“ sarah replied nonchalantly. she looked over at her bedroom door to check that it was closed before turning back to face you. “we need to get you laid.”

you shook your head. it’s not like you hadn’t considered it, especially recently. you thought about that more than you’d like to admit, really. most nights ended with your hand between your thighs, attempting to get yourself off. you were always left unsatisfied, it was like an itch in a place you couldn’t quite reach to scratch on your own.

you had been on a few dates, but nothing ever clicked. kildare island was a small town so everyone knew each other. it was difficult, to say the least, to find someone without association to your ex. “i don’t know.. i mean, where would i even start? tinder?”

“hell no. that’s a breeding ground for creeps and losers.” she immediately dismissed. she grabbed her phone from beside her, pulling up a text thread from her boyfriend and flipping it around to show you. “there’s a party at topper’s later, you should come. maybe you’ll find someone there.”

you wanted to say no, but sarah was persistent. you knew she wouldn’t let this down anytime soon, so you agreed to appease her mind. “okay.. i’ll go.”

what you didn’t know is that the walls of tannyhill were thin, and someone was listening in on everything.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

coming here was a bad idea.

it didn’t take long for sarah to walk off to go find topper, leaving you on your own. you slipped through the crowd, finding yourself a drink but no luck with finding anyone worth your time. you quickly felt overstimulated, deciding to wander to the back of the house to find a place away from the crowd. you sat down on a couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly to pass the time.

sarah had driven the both of you there, which was definitely a mistake on your part since you knew she would stay the night with topper anyway. she probably thought this would leave you no choice but to go home with someone. you’d have to talk to her about that later.

you were fixing to send her a message that you going to walk home, calling it an early night, until a voice spoke in front of you.

“hey, sugar.”

your eyes left your phone screen, peering up to meet rafe towering over you. he was so close that you had to crane your neck to fully see him. you had always thought he was good looking, too attractive for his own good. he had on a tight-fitted, salmon colored polo paired with his go to khaki shorts, his hair swooped and parted to the side with gel. his arms were folded across his chest, biceps flexing with a sly smile tugging on his lips as he looked down at you. “can i join you?”

you felt your shoulders drop in relief, thankful that it was him and not one of the other frat boys there. you and rafe weren’t close by any means, sarah made sure of that. any time he would try to talk to you while she was around, she would shut it down immediately. not that he really cared or listened to what anyone told him. he wasn’t going to let that stop him, which is why he needed to find a way to get you alone, and this opportunity had you falling right into his lap.

“rafe, hi. i was just about to leave.. actually.”

he had been watching you carefully since the moment you walked in. rafe was a calculated man like that, purposefully standing in the corner of the kitchen to keep track of you throughout the night. he saw a kid— who was way too confident— make his advances on you by offering a drink, but you declined and poured your own instead.

‘smart girl.’ rafe muttered to himself, taking a sip of his beer as you turned him down. you strutted off shortly after that, which he soon followed.

his face twisted in confusion. “so soon? you haven’t even been here an hour.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to say. it’s not like you could tell him why you were there in the first place. you already felt ridiculous for even considering this idea.

“just.. not really in the mood tonight.” you answered hesitantly. it wasn’t necessarily a lie, but something about rafe made you nervous. he was older than you by a few years, and you could feel it through his presence. the way he asserted himself, it made you feel small. submissive.

he nodded, his eyes taking you in as you sat there. you were wearing a little black top and a denim skirt so short that it should be illegal. you tugged down on it a bit in reaction to his gaze, the fabric not budging as it clung to your thick thighs. he noticed the apples of your cheeks turning pink at his stare.

rafe couldn’t help but smirk. you were so cute, so sweet. he liked seeing you like this— without sarah. how such a good girl like you could be so close with her was beyond him. what kind of friend was she to bring you here to get fucked by some stranger?

but he wouldn’t let that happen.

“i’ll take you to the house then. i can’t let you walk back this late.”

“no no, i’ll be fine. i-“

“that wasn’t a question.”

he reached out his hand, gesturing for you to grab it before you could protest any further. it would just be a quick ride back to tannyhill, right?

you exhaled, putting your smaller hand into his and letting him pull you off the couch. his fingers intertwined with yours as led you through the crowd, people’s eyes following as the both of you passed by. it was hard not to get attention being next to rafe cameron— girls wishing they were you and boys wishing they were him. you dropped your head hoping that no one would notice. that was doubtful.

the tension during the drive was thick. you felt his eyes on you more than the road, which had you squirming in the leather passenger seat. his car smelled like him— a mix of weed and cedarwood cologne filling your senses. you almost felt lightheaded with how nervous you were and he hadn’t even done anything.

on the other hand, rafe was loving every second of it. he had been dreaming of this moment before you were even single. his sisters pretty little best friend, always around but just barely out of his reach, was currently in the palm of his hand.

partynextdoor was playing on the radio, you could hear him humming along as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. you heard your phone ding with a text notification— from sarah.

sarah: hey i’m downstairs did you leave?

you: yeah, sorry i couldn’t find you

sarah: with who??

sarah: please don’t say brian

sarah: tell me if he’s hot at least

sarah: is his dick big?

“everything okay?” rafe broke the silence, gesturing to your leg that started to bounce.

“it’s sarah, wantin’ to know who i’m with..” you replied, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard to type out a response to her.

he placed his hand on your knee, his grip gentle but firm enough to stop your moments. “just ignore her.” he said it like a suggestion, but his underlying tone told you that it wasn’t. you couldn’t help but listen to him, powering off your phone all together.

he kept his hand there, rubbing small circles with his thumb before he decided to test you, slowly going up your thigh. the warmth from his hand went straight to your core, your legs subconsciously parting just slightly at his touch.

“rafe..” you attempted to hide the shakiness in your voice. he was still driving, his eyes set forward. it took everything in him not to stop and take care of you right there— parking his car off the dirt road and bending you over in the backseat— but he held himself back. not only out of respect for you, but he wanted to do it the right way. he had been waiting to have you for years, he could handle a few more minutes.

“when’s the last time you’ve been touched like this, sweetheart?”

his fingers were now lingering between your thighs, slipping past that excuse of a skirt and brushing over your white panties. “and tell me the truth, or i stop.” he coaxed, his middle fingers pressed through the fabric, it becoming wet with your arousal. you whimpered at his touch, ashamed that you were reacting so easily to him. it was as if he already knew your body— knowing exactly where and how to you touch without even looking.

“i- i don’t know.” you breathed out. your head was fuzzy with desire, a feeling foreign to you.

“i think you do.” he thumbed your clothed clit, your head falling back against the seat in response. “i heard you and sarah talking earlier. could’ve came to me instead, y’know.” he continued to rub over your heat, just enough to tease you to the point it was nearly unbearable.

rafe sped up the rest of the way home, his patience running thin with his cock straining in his shorts. you were even more impatient, bucking your hips into his hand to feel some relief. you were beginning to make a mess on the seat and his fingers weren’t even inside of you yet.

before you knew it you were being thrown onto rafe’s bed, your legs hanging off the edge as he stood in between them.

“such a needy lil’ thing, hm?” he ditched your soaked panties on the floor, running his calloused fingertips over your slit to lather them with your slick. he parted your lips— so pretty and pink and glistening just for him. you were perfect.

he circled at your clit, applying pressure to the sensitive bud. you were pulsating beneath him as he started to rub faster, your thighs trembling. he pressed his middle finger at your entry, sinking himself in down to the knuckle.

rafe warmed up your cunt a bit longer before adding a second digit, pumping both in and out of you with determination— your soft moans spilling out like music to his ears. “god, baby, you’re drippin’ everywhere..” you whined at his words, which only made him keep going.

he curled his fingers, your gushy walls engulfing him as he hit that special spot inside of you. you could feel everything— the metal of his rings hitting against your cunt, the heat of his breath on your neck as he nibbled at it, the coil in your belly tightening.

“rafe.. i- i feel like-“

“i know baby, it’s okay. i got you.” he mumbled into your ear before he brought your lips to his, kissing you like it’s all he could do to breathe. you tasted so pure, like a ripe summer peach on his tongue— and he just wanted to swallow you whole. he continued to suck on your bottom lip until it was swollen, only pulling away to watch you.

and the look he was giving you— hungry with desire— was it took before you snapped, cumming for what felt like the first time. he held your hips in place with his other hand, holding you down to ride out your high.

you were gasping for air at this point, your bottom mascara smudged from the tears that prickled from your eyes. rafe looked wrecked as well, face pink and his once perfectly laid hair now disheveled. you didn’t know why until you sat up and saw it, the outline of his cock prominent in his shorts. your breath hitched, your doe eyes widening at the sight.

he grabbed your hand and brought it over his length, guiding you to rub it back and forth. even through the clothes you could tell he was bigger than your ex, surely. the thought alone had you pulsating.

“don’t by shy, sweetheart.”

you unbuttoned his shorts, pulling them down with his boxers to free his erect member. it hit his stomach, the tip red and leaking pre cum from being pent up for so long. he was girthy, thicker than his two fingers that you could hardly take a few minutes ago.

still, you pursued. you reached down to your sopping cunt, cupping it to lubricate your hand and bringing it to his cock. he let out a groan as you stroked him, jerking your wrist in smooth motions.

rafe was in heaven. you seemed so shy and innocent at first, he felt almost wrong for corrupting you like this— that was until you took it upon yourself to lick up the vein of his shaft, taking him into your mouth. you began to swirl your tongue, flicking it at his head to collect the dribbled cum. you went further, one hand at his base until you felt him hit the back of your throat. he rutted his hips, grabbing a fistful of your hair in a halt. if you kept going like this he wasn’t going to last.

“need to be inside you.” his voice was filled with desperation. he was panting at this point, a string of saliva following when he pulled you away. “please.”

you couldn’t finishing nodding your head before he went straight to work, pushing you flat to the bed with his weight on top of you. he ripped off your shirt, unclasping your lace bra in one smooth motion. rafe loved the feminine physique, and he was absolutely infatuated with yours. your tits were perky, full cups that sat sculpted on you just like a roman statue. your tummy was plush with a shimmery belly ring, the curves of your waist and hips drawing him in.

he brought his mouth to your breasts, lapping his tongue over one nipple as he fondled with the other. he was so eager— sucking and twisting at them like he was trying to feed. you were mewling, twisting under him at the sensation.

he slid his cock over your puffy folds. “saving this pussy for me, weren’t you?”

he slipped in raw, slowly filling you up inch by inch. he tried to go easy on you, but fuck, the way you were clenching around him it was like you were begging for more.

you were so stretched out, so full, and he still hadn’t put himself all the way in. he was thrusting into you at agonizing pace, not allowing you to adjust to his large size. you tried to scoot away, the pleasure being too much to bear, but he held you in place at the waist. he watched you engulf his dick in satisfaction— a creamy ring forming at the base.

“so fuckin’ tight— shit.” rafe moaned, squeezing his grip on the flesh of your stomach which would surly have bruises by morning. he finally bottomed out, hitting your core with a smooth trust. he was splitting you open with no mercy as his room echoed with the sound of skin slapping skin.

“suckin’ me in so well, feel like a virgin. you sure you been fucked before?”

“not like this.” you barely choked out, turning your head into the sheets as he quickened his speed. your face was flushed— chin still covered in spit and brows furrowed together.

“mhmm, but this is what you wanted, isn’t it baby?” his voice was raspy, almost mocking. he was molding himself inside you, like you were made just for him— filling you perfectly as your walls took his shape. his tip skimmed your g-spot, making you cry.

he arched your hips off the bed, moving his palms down to the fat of your ass— kneading it as your pussy started to flutter around him. he could tell you were close, your bodies chest to chest as he pounded into you.

you let go, jolts running through you as you came around his length with the second orgasm coursing through you. you had your legs wrapped around him, milking him dry. he didn’t let up either, continuing to hit into you at a brutal rate.

“gonna nut inside you like you deserve.” his grunted with gritted teeth, burying himself inside of you. his movements stuttered as he reached his peak— cock twitching as he released, his cum spurting in you with thick, hot ropes. he stayed there for a moment, assuring you got every drop before finally pulling out.

he laid down next to you, heavy, ragid breaths leaving the both of you in sync.

“you won’t need to be celibate any more, sugar.”

[archiewantsheetmetal]

First Official Hello From Archie!

HELLO Layton Nation! Welcome to my Layton blog. My name is Archie, and I go by he/him. I am a minor!

DNI if you:

- Are a pedophile

- Ship any minors with any adult characters. This is also pedophilia

- Are a zoophile

- Are a strictly 18+ blog

- Are homophobic, transphobic, racist, or xenophobic I just post Layton stuff here and interact with the fandom. This is my only Tumblr blog. I really like Professor Layton. I don't tag triggers or spoilers unless it's something major, like if it's very mild blood or if it regards a Layton reveal, but if anyone has an issue, they can come to me through dms or asks! I am not a scary person. Like at all. I love interacting with the Layton fandom and to be honest I am probably just as scared of you as you are of me. So don't be afraid to be friends! I love getting questions and requests! I just won't respond to anything NSFW. I do not reblog NSFW content. On Archive of Our Own, my username is Archierot! You can find any fics I may post there. Currently, there are only three published works on my page, but there will be more to come. My askbox is almost always open! I just may be a little slower to get to some of them, or if you say something very nice or funny, I might just keep it in there so I can look at it when I need to.

Taglist and friends below!

LIST OF MY FRIENDS!! MY LOVELY FRIENDS THAT I LOVE FOREVER!!

@casualfr1days!! My best friend DREWWW!!!!! ! ! ! ! ^^ AMAZING person all around and very very pretty art. THEY ARE THE REASON. I am in the Professor Layton fandom. drew it is ALL your fault. Wonderful to be around and I feel like I can talk to you about my bugs forever.

@justkillingthyme MY LOVELY BEST FRIEND THYME!! ^^ FRIENDLY KIND FOREVER!! I love their art and their writing!! It's very distinct and has inspired several of my own creations. I'm very lucky to be friends with them. Very funny person and joy to be around.

@jesterday00 MY BEST FRIEND SKEETER!! HI SKEETER ^^ I LOVE this person, their art, and their writing. Very very kind and very funny. I'm glad to have met you! Gives you a BIG fist bump.

@hotsaucewmilk BEST FRIEND HOTSAUCE!! !HLELO ^^ FUNNY GUY ALERT!!! GREAT ARTIST ALERT!! And he's also british so maybe he knows layton. idk. were investigating the matter

@toonypow BEST FRIEND BEE!!! HI BEE HI BEE ^^ GREAT writer. Has made me cry on Bsky. Wonderful art that I've seen.

@mysterysnail APPEL. OLIVE. YOU. ^^ shares a similar sense of humor to me. thank you. SSHAKES your hand. VERY FUNNY PERSON AND I'VE SEEN SOME OF THEIR ART!! VERY GOOD!!

@speedygoreman speedy... ^^ I AM still scared of you KIND OF. a little bit. BUT I THINK YOU'RE COOL. AND I LOVE READING THE STUFF YOU POST. KLG. UGH. UURGH. @huevobuevo you/. i remember you. ^^ you're realy fuckin funny man. best first impression. i miss you heuevo............. @constantpan1c ^^ hi!! friend!! yay!! funny kind nice. not part of the layton fandom but i listed them here too. giggle If I didn't include you on here, I'm probably scared of you and I'm not sure if you consider us friends !!

TAGS!

#archiereblogs - what it sounds like !! these are just reblogged posts. #important - probably important ! #archiesfavs - MY MOST FAAAVORITE POSTS!! HIGHEST HONOR I CAN BESTOW!! They go here so i can look at them later. #phantom railway au - the 1930s-esque depression au i created for professor layton! #askarchie - just stuff from my askbox #archiesart - all of my art!! I'm trying to do more of it. #inbox thyme - all of or most of thyme's asks. because theyre in there a lot! #archiestupid - shitposts. this might be considered art too but if its too stupid it goes in there. #archierants - me talking. probably includes all analyses ive ever done. #pl creature au - my mythical creature/monster au i created for professor layton! #archierot - ALL of my fics and fic related content! #archiedoodles - doodle request answers! #pl/professor layton - professor laytong stuff! THAT'S ALL I CAN FIND!! Some tags may not have any posts in them! That's because, moving forward, I want to keep my account organized. That's what the empty tags are there for! So I can use them from now on. I'll try to edit existing posts to include these tags if I see them. I'll tag the taglist so you can use it to like. find stuff. if you need to.

I hope you guys like my stuff! -Archie!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Is it okay to use generators to help you start writing or to give ideas? I see a lot of writers on other platforms bashing them and saying that by using them you are not a real writer.

I use them because I personally feel like I'm not that creative, and it gives me a vague start to go on.

Thank you, and I really love your blog!

Using Random Generators for Inspiration

It depends on what you actually mean when you say "generators." Random Generators - Random generators have existed on the internet for years and years and years. Some popular ones are Fantasy Names .com and Seventh Sanctum .com. These use predefined options that were created by someone who is offering them up for the express purpose of writers using them as prompts, inspiration, and ideas. These are absolutely fine to use, are used by even seasoned writers, and in no way undermine your validity as a writer.

Generative AI - Generative AI is relatively new on the scene and includes things like ChatGPT and Notion AI. These use data that is scraped from other sources without permission from the creators. In other words, the ideas and text isn't generated by a person who specifically put it there for your use, but is instead stolen from other writers who did not give anyone permission to use it.

To be more clear, it's the difference between someone saying "here are some ideas you can use" versus someone saying "here are other people's stolen ideas you can use."

Needless to say, the use of generative AI is extremely controversial, as it should be. We're not talking about robbing from the rich to feed the poor. We're talking about robbing from the poor to feed the poor. Many MANY creatives work around (and sometimes overcome) challenges to their work without resorting to theft from other creatives. And when creativity is something that even creatives struggle with at times, lacking creativity is not a good excuse for stealing someone else's hard work.

So... if you're using random generators for plot ideas, setting ideas, character names, etc., that's fine, and many writers use them. But, if you're using generative AI, you need to really think about what you're doing and why you feel entitled to using ideas stolen from other creatives.

In the meantime, here are some resources that can help you boost your own creativity:

Guide: Filling Your Creative Well Guide: How to Rekindle Your Motivation to Write Getting Unstuck: Motivation Beyond Mood Boards & Playlists Character Development Exercises Writing Exercises to Help You Become a Better Writer Want to Write, Can't Come Up with a Plot

Also, some great random generators:

Fantasy Name Generators Seventh Sanctum Chaotic Shiny RanGen DIYMFA WriterIgniter Plot Generator Writing Exercises.uk

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[heartsforvin]

could you write an imagine where vin gets readers dad's permission to marry her + include a proposal? i feel like that'd be so cute to read!

from 🤎 anon

BLESSINGS

this is soooo cute thank you so much for the request !!

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, if i missed anything lmk !!!

summary: vinnie gets your fathers blessing to marry you, since he dreams of spending the rest of his life with you

authors note: trying to clear out my inbox from months worth of requests 🥲

you and vinnie had been dating for five years when he finally decided he truly did want you in his life forever. he had spent the last few months planning out everything from how to get your fathers permission, all the way from where and how he was going to ask you.

once he had it to a T, he planned out how your day was going to go. vinnie had texted one of your friends, telling her the plan on how he was going to propose to you today.

he asked if she could take you out to get your nails done, but to not make it looks suspicious, moralize the two of you were just going to have a normal girls day.

once you had finally left the house, vinnie took minute to recollect himself, gain the strength and courage to go over to your parents place and ask that big question to your father.

stepping out of his car, vinnie walked up to the front door of your parents place and rang the doorbell, awaiting for an answer.

after a few seconds the door opens and your mother appears. "vinnie, what a surprise," the woman greets the blonde with a smile and hug. "what are you doing here?" she asks.

vinnie clears his throat, stuffing his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. "is mr. y/ln home?" vinnie asks.

your mother nods, opening the door wider for vinnie to step inside. once inside, your mom directs vinnie to where your dad is, he thanks her before heading into the living room.

when your dad notices vinnie he stands up from the couch and shakes his hand. "hey vinnie, what brings you here?" he asks.

vinnie smiles softly before speaking. "i wanted to talk to you, o-or more so ask you something." the blonde stutters out.

the older man nods, vinnie can see the confusion laced with a bit of fear on his face, wondering what he's about to say.

both men take a seat across from each other and your dad nod for vinnie to continue.

the blonde can't help but feel the anxiety rise, suddenly freezing up as he tries to ask the most important want question to your father.

"i um," vinnie clears his throat and chuckles softly. "i wanted to ask for your blessing to marry y/n." he finally gets out.

the older man looks at your boyfriend for a minute, but then a small smile appears, making vinnie's nerves calm.

"you want to marry my daughter?" your father asks, making sure he heard correctly.

vinnie nods. "yes, i- i do, i love her very much, maybe even more than myself or even life itself. i want to give her the best life, the life she deserves. you've known me for the last five years, and i have no doubt that if you didn't like me or anything like that, that you would've given me the boot years ago. so yes, i do want to marry your daughter, to be apart of her life forever, because honestly, i can't see my world without your daughter in it."

vinnie watches the man's expression change, seeing a smile appear on his face. "i know you're a good man, vinnie,” your dad reassures. “y/n loves you very much, i can tell from the way she’d always come home from a date of yours and had the biggest smile. so this is me giving you my blessing to marry her, make her the happiest woman in the world.”

vinnie smiled widely, not really believing the words he’s hearing right now, but loving it. he shakes the man’s hand and thanks him, staying for a bit longer to gather ideas on how he wants to propose to you.

he wants to make it special, to make it memorable to both of you. on his way home, all he thought about was his idea on how he was going to ask the big question.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

days have passed now and vinnie has come up with the perfect way to ask you to marry him. he had told you to get your nails done, you thought it was a bit suspicious since it wa so out of the blue, but you went along with it anyways.

it was almost sunset, the perfect time for this. vinnie was getting the last finishing touches set up. he was planning on having you meet him at the place he took you for your second date.

the date that really sealed the deal for you both.

once everything was set up an done, vinnie waited anxiously for your text. the place in question was on top of a hill vinnie had taken you to, saying it was perfect to watch the sunset.

you finally texted him saying you wee here and vinnie walked down to meet you.

vinnie smiles when he sees you. "hey, you." he says as he pulls you into a hug.

you kiss the side of his head, smiling at him as you pull way. "another spontaneous date?" you ask with a small chuckle.

vinnie tries to play it off and laughs along with you.he takes your hand and takes you up the hill.

"close your eyes, its a surprise." vinnie says, watching you close your eyes.

once up on the hill, vinnie smiled as he told you to open your eyes. once you did, a wide smile spread across your face.

"vin," you whisper as you look up at him. "what's all this for?" you ask.

vinnie smiles, placing his hands on your hips, holding you close to him. "wanted to surprise you." he ays.

he takes your hand and walks with you to the picnic blanket that laid just in the right spot to get perfect view of the sunset.

you can't help but keep smiling feeling immensely happy. vinnie takes your hands in his and looks at you.

the sun was eating as he looked at you, now was the perfect time to say what he wanted.

"you mean the world to me, do you know that?" vinnie asks, making you smile softly as you nod.

he smiles, getting down on one knee, which makes you gasp. "i want to spend the rest of my life with you, raise kids, grow old, all of it." he starts.

you don't know how to feel in the moment, emotions heightened as you listen to vinnie speak. "i love you so much, sweetheart. everything about you amazes me everyday. i can't imagine a life without you, so would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

your eyes start welling with tears, not believing what's actually happening. you nod, smile wide across your face as you tell him yes.

"I'll marry you, vinnie," you whisper a you lean into hug him. "i love you so much."

vinnie let go and kisses you softly. "can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." he whispers against your lips.

you smile, hugging him tightly. the rest of the night was spent with laughter and love. you can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him either.

first fic of 2025 !!!!! this has been in my drafts since august so it’s been in here a bit 😭 i hope you all liked it either way !!!

tags: @anqeliclust , @deansbeer , @nativegirltapes , @khackerr , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @laylasbunbunny , @jpg3 , @khxna , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @visualbutterflysworld , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @miilzzy , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @skye-44 , @leqonsluv3r , @defnotayonna , @kayleighh , @supabhad , @sturnioloshacker , @submattenthusiast

[konpeitonom]

Hi I’m the OP who requested the recovered Curly hcs and I LOVE THEM SM!!! It’s so cute how clingy he became and how he tried to make amends for his inaction he absolutely would!!! There needs to be more love for disabled characters ✨✨✨✨

I’m going to take you up on your offer for a first time meeting after his recovery if you don’t mind your writing is so lovely!!! Maybe something about them meeting and their first date

Also age gap…40s/middle aged curly and late 20s reader… middle aged men save me ough

first meeting/dating recovered grant curly.

sfw— lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; hi anon! this has been sitting at the bottom of my inbox. just decided to work my way up. sorry this is late haha i hope you enjoy nonetheless. writing for recovered curly is very, very fun. i’ll admit that.

— i think id take him a couple years, closer to a decade, to start dating again! he doesn’t wanna burden anyone with his emotional state, so he’d wanna make sure he’s okay and happy before doing so.

— i like to think you guys met naturally. no dating apps, he’s too old for that. perhaps you guys frequent the same hospital, like you have an older relative there you see from time to time. whatever it is, he managed to land a date!

— he’d be so nervous! not in an insecure way, but in a, “it’s been a long time since i’ve done something like this.. i can’t mess it up.”

— he’d want to talk to you, get to know you just a little more than average before asking you out. yes, he’d ask you out. he wouldn’t be offended if you asked him out (and he’d actually appreciate it a ton) but he’s the guy! he’s supposed to be courting you.

— he’s traditional, so maybe a coffee shop- or lunch out. or in people-pleasing curlys case; whatever you wanted to do! even a walk in the park would suffice. and of course he’d always grab the check.

— he’s the type to ask very important questions on a first date. he never wants to waste anyone’s time, or waste his as well. like, what’s it you’re looking for? what do you value? just stuff like that. but only if the mood calls for if, if the date is very, very casual- then he’d bring it up later.

— he’d also ask you if you’re okay with how he looks. again, he isn’t insecure, but he understands the culture we live in.. but he’s certain you don’t mind, since you’re literally on a date together..

— would insist on taking you home, to make sure you get home safe. that’s a man’s job after all. he’d wait for you to walk in, and even then just wait a tinsy bit longer to make sure you’re 100% okay.

— he’d text you the morning after to make sure you slept well, ask you how you felt about the date and such. he’d ask for a second if you give a good response. this time something less formal, like maybe at a garden nearby- or at a bookstore.

— i think he’s really, really into books. he’d be so happy if you read anything he recommended. he’s a considerate man, so all your preferences would be taken into account.

— kisses on the cheek, or on the hands.. he’s a very sweet guy. won’t be so touchy if you resist in any way, but if you allow him, he’ll be all over you.. loves holding your hand! wouldn’t be afraid to initiate it first.

— he would send roses/your favorite flowers to your workplace! maybe a bit early on, when you start dating. he’s a very romantic man, and he isn’t afraid to show you that.

— he’s very particular about sending flowers. would understand flower meanings and everything! classic roses is always a good pick, but further on he’d move onto other things. like red carnations for when you’re on a business trip of some sorts.

— first kiss on the lips would be, a bit emotional for him, maybe? it’s been a long while since he’s done any of that, really, so the fact he can experience what love feels like again at such an older age? he feels lucky, very lucky.

— of course a fancy dinner date would come much sooner rather than later. would do many things to see you in a fancy dress, eating nice food. he’d feel so proud to be seen with you, how pretty you are.. and he can’t wait to spoil you for the rest of his days.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Clandestine. Part Four.

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

Chapter Synopsis - Death puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female Roy!Reader

Warnings - cursing. lots of talk about grief.

Word Count - 3k

Author’s Note - now I might just be the last person on tumblr still writing for stewy, but I am determined to finish this series. let’s ignore the fact it’s been a year since I updated it, shall we? one more part of this to go!! thank you, if you’re still here for my succession stuff <3

Series Masterlist. Main Masterlist. Inbox.

You’re floating around in a daze.

It’s been a week since Connor’s phone call. A week since the formidable Logan Roy died on the floor of his private plane, surrounded by his closest employees. A week since you’ve seen Stewy.

You’ve been crashing in Roman’s guest room, neither of you wanting to be alone. You go to your Dad’s apartment, have meetings with old white men that all look the same, pop into the office every now and again and go home to your brothers. You were barely speaking to Kendall before all of this happening, never mind now. You can’t remember the last time the two of you said more than three words to each other.

You’re sat at Roman’s dinner table when a strange feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You watch him picking at his salad for a minute before you say anything.

“Have you… spoke to Kendall? Like, over the last few days?”

Roman looks confused by the question, but doesn’t voice it.

“Yeah, here and there. You guys are in a fight, right?”

“Uh, yeah. We were. I guess we still are. I’m just… worried about him. God knows his mental health has been in the gutter recently anyway, but now Dad’s dead, and… I don’t know. It just can’t end well, right?”

“All we can do is keep an eye on him, I guess. He won’t fucking accept it even if we try and help, so.”

“Yeah.”

You move the chicken around on your plate with your fork, neither of you having much of an appetite recently.

“So, you never told me what your fight was about. It all seems like this big ass fucking secret that only Roman doesn’t know about.”

You’re a little taken aback by Romans candour. Usually he’s pretty avoidant, happy to live with the not knowing. He’s done with that, apparently.

“You’re not the only one that doesn’t know, Rome. Ken is the only one that does.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Why does everyone include Kendall in everything and leave me on the fucking sidelines? Why am I always the one who doesn’t get the joke, who doesn’t know the secret?”

“Rome-”

“I know he’s your favourite, but Jesus. You could at least try and include me sometimes.”

“Roman.”

“What?”

“Kendall only ‘knows the secret’ because he… walked in on the secret. Not because I sought him out and told him, or anything like that. I promise.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

With what has happened over the past week, your perspective on almost everything has changed. Keeping your secret is no longer top priority - or priority at all. You’re realising that you don’t care, because it doesn’t matter. Not much really matters.

“I’m in love with Stewy.”

Roman’s silent for a moment, processing.

“Hosseini?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, Rome. Hosseini. Do you know any other Stewys?”

He shakes his head, still visibly confused.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you’re in love with him.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah, um… he already knows. We - we’re in love. With each other. We’re dating.”

“You’re dating him?”

“That’s crazier than me being in love with him one sided?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You chuckle, looking at him for a moment before a grin breaks out across his face. He’s always been the most easy going of your brothers, the most understanding. You’ve always felt a comfort in talking to Roman - he’s more open minded than he appears. He’s a surprisingly good listener, even when you think your problems are trivial or stupid.

“For how long?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know. Two years, give or take?”

“Two years?”

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? I’m mad impressed, Princess. I didn’t think you’d be able to keep a big secret like that from me for that long.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

You’re suddenly vulnerable, terrified that your big brother is going to think less of you. Your brothers are all you have, all you’ve ever had. The four of you learned to survive with each other, with no help from parents or nannies or any kind of adult. You have nothing if you don’t have your brothers.

“I don’t hate you, dummy. I could never hate you.”

You stand up and make your way over to him, perching on his leg like you used to when you were kids. You wrap your arms around his neck, exhaling when he wraps his around your middle.

“Love you, Rome,” you whisper. “Even if you are a pain in my ass.”

“Yeah, love you too,” he murmurs. “Even if you do keep important secrets from me.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you ever again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Promise. No more secrets.”

You pull back but stay sat on his lap, feeling six years old again, taking solace in the presence of your big brother.

“So Kendall… walked in on you?”

“He saw us leaving the gala together and got suspicious. He showed up at Stewy’s apartment the next morning, banging on the door and asking where I was.”

“Oh shit,” he laughs.

“It’s not funny,” you retort, but you’re holding back your giggles as you do it.

“And I’m guessing he didn’t take it well.”

“Not at all. He was cycling between yelling and swearing and then sitting really quietly just… staring into space. Then he got personal, which was expected, but that pissed Stewy off, so the whole thing got awkward again. It was… horrendous.”

“He’s horrible at feelings.”

“Says Mr Communication over here.”

He shoves you off his lap, chuckling when you slide onto the floor. You punch him in the arm as you get up, returning to your original seat. You sit in silence for a moment, neither of you quite sure how to continue.

“What now?”

“I… don’t know, Rome. I just don’t know.”

“I mean, the world hasn’t stopped spinning. Maybe it feels like it has for us, but everyone else has carried on.”

You’re confused by your brother’s sudden wisdom, until it clicks for you.

He’s free.

Sure, he’s grieving. You all are. But he’s lighter. Laughs a little easier. Gives out advice quicker.

He’s free.

You all are.

The shackles your father had placed on all four of you are broken. You are no longer bound to him or Waystar or his insane ideals as to what family should be or do or say.

“I need to get out.”

“What?” Roman asks as he cocks his head, quirking a brow at you in curiosity.

“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore. This… constant cycle of destruction and deception and stabbing people in the back. It won’t stop now that Dad’s dead. It’s the very foundation that his business is built on.”

“So you’re gonna… leave?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna sell my shares and I’m gonna get the fuck out.”

Roman laughs, now, all big and bold and beautiful. You don’t know what’s funny, but you can’t help but laugh with him.

“I am too.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’m doing the same.”

“Roman.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know who CEO is gonna be, but it isn’t gonna be me. It’ll be Kendall or Tom or someone completely different, but we all know neither you or I are capable.”

“Jeez. Thanks.”

“You’re telling me you could run the entire Waystar business?”

You roll your eyes, kicking him under the table.

“Obviously I fucking couldn’t. But at least pretend to have a little bit more faith in me.”

Your brother chuckles, leaning back in his chair.

“We’re not built for it, you and me. We’re meant for something different. Something better, Princess.”

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

“What about Kendall?”

“What about him?”

“I feel like we’re… abandoning him.”

Rome looks solemn, suddenly, thinking about your older brother.

“He’ll come around, you know. And he’ll understand. That’s the thing about Kendall - he can’t hold a grudge to save his life. He tries, but he can’t.”

A tear rolls down your cheek, lump in your throat choking any words that try to escape.

“Hey, hey,” Roman soothes as he walks over, standing above you.

He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away your sadness.

“He loves you more than anything, you know.”

You shake your head, so your brother doubles down.

“He does. You’ve always been his favourite. He’d do anything for you - anything at all. He’s mad because you and Stewy kept a secret from him, not because you’re together. Trust me.”

“He looked at me that day like he hated me.”

“He couldn’t hate you if he tried. He’s just… emotionally unavailable. Everyone knows this.”

“I miss him,” you whisper, lip trembling. “I miss my brother.”

You’re taken aback by how much you miss Kendall, suddenly. You miss him so much more than you miss Logan, or your Mom.

“Give him time. That’s all he needs. He misses you, I know he does. But you know what he’s like when he feels betrayed. He shuts down and gets all aggressive.”

You look up at Roman, gentle smile making its way onto your face.

“When did you get so smart, huh?”

“I’ve always been smart,” he laughs. “Everyone underestimates me.”

“That they do.”

“Well, not anymore. We’re getting out.”

“We’re getting out,” you repeat, finally allowing yourself to feel happiness at the prospect. “We’re gonna get the fuck out.”

“Talk to Stewy about selling your shares and let me know what he says. The sooner, the better.”

“I will. I’m excited, Rome. The world is our oyster.”

“Me too,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. “We’ll go to the funeral, and then we’ll never have to see any of those assholes ever again.”

“I can’t wait to not have to look at Karl’s stupid fucking face every day.”

Roman keels over laughing, wheezing as he clutches his stomach. You’re crying with laughter too, both of you lighter and freer than you’ve ever been.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You sure about this, Rome?”

“One hundred percent.”

You hug him tightly as you say goodbye, smiling when he presses a kiss into your hair.

“I’ll let you know what Stewy says tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Princess. Call me if you need anything.”

“You too. Anything.”

He ruffles your hair before sending you on your way, waiting at the front door to watch you go.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“Stewy? You home?”

You drop your bags by the front door, kicking off your shoes and jacket as you do it. You’re about to yell again when he comes running around the corner, sliding across the wood floors in his socks.

“Baby.”

He breathes it, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him again.

“Missed you, Hosseini.”

You fly into his arms, burying yourself as deep as you can in his chest. His old, worn t shirt is soft and grey and smells like the love of your life and all of his memories spent at home. He tightens his grip on you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“How are you?” he asks without letting go, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m okay. I’m good, actually. Really good.”

“Yeah?”

Now he pulls away to look at you, confused by the sudden change of heart. When you left to go to Roman’s a week ago, you were a shell of a woman, a little girl without a dad. Now, you’re back, brighter and more alive than ever.

“Yeah.”

You look at him, really look at him, for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying the words you’ve been dying to say.

“Marry me, Stewy.”

He staggers back as if you’ve hit him, eyes blown wide.

“W-what?”

“Marry me.”

He inhales, exhaling shakily before stepping forward to cradle your face in his hands.

“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

“Maybe,” you laugh. “But I guess I got there first.”

“Honey, forgive me if I’m a little confused, but… you just came back after being gone for a week because your dad died and now you’re… proposing?”

“Me and Roman are leaving Waystar,” you explain. “We’re selling our shares and getting the fuck out.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Really. The only thing stopping me from leaving years ago was the fear of disappointing my dad, and now he’s gone. So… there’s nothing keeping me there. I wanna do something else. Something for me.”

“Yeah?”

He’s grinning, beaming at you from ear to ear. Light is practically pouring from him, radiating in all directions.

“Yeah,” you half yell, leaning up to press an excited kiss to his lips. “I’m done, Stewy. I’m free.”

He picks you up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spin. You shriek with laughter, the world blurring as it whizzes past you. Eventually he puts you down, both of you breathless.

“Life’s too short. I need to start living it.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you so much. More than anything.”

You kiss him tenderly, gentle and sweet and filled with so much adoration.

“So, back to my original question…”

“Wait,” he interrupts, halting your speech. “Let me do this the right way.”

With that, he runs off towards the bedroom, leaving you stood in the hallway as confused as ever. You wait patiently, desperate to be privy to his plans.

When he returns, still in his pyjamas, he kisses you softly before getting down on one knee, ring box in his hand.

“Honey. You are the love of my goddamn life. I bought this ring after we’d been dating for… three months? Call me crazy, but I knew. I just knew. It was always going to be me and you. Always.”

Your hands are shaking, breath caught in your chest as you try to soak in every second of this moment.

“So…. how do you feel about becoming Mrs Hosseini?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d love more.”

“Is that a yes?”

“The biggest, most sure yes of my entire life. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes.”

He swoops you up into his arms, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. You slip your tongue into his mouth cheekily, tangling your fingers into his hair to pull him closer as he groans.

You finally pull away for air, both of you panting like you’ve just run a marathon. Your eyes well up suddenly, a tear falling without you realising.

“You okay?” he murmurs, thumbs rubbing circles into your cheekbones.

“I’m so happy,” you whisper. “I feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

“So do I,” he agrees, looking down at you with so much love you it makes your knees buckle. “Baby… if you’re getting out, then I’m getting out.”

“Wait, what?”

“If you want to get out of Waystar, I’m not gonna stay. If you’re washing your hands of it, then I am too.”

“But… your money.”

“Honey, those shares don’t mean shit to me. The only thing that matters is you.”

You look at him intently for a moment, searching for any traces of doubt. All you find is pure adoration.

“Stewy?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna keep that ring in the box forever?”

He throws his head back as he laughs, opening the velvet box to show you what’s inside. He slips it onto your finger with ease, the diamond sparkling perfectly on your hand.

“It’s so beautiful. I’m the luckiest person in the world, Mr Hosseini.”

“I think I have to disagree with you there, Mrs Hosseini.”

“Say it again.”

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“And again.”

He kisses you, mumbling against your lips.

“Mrs Hosseini.”

“Mhmm.”

“My wife. The prettiest girl in the world. Mrs Hosseini.”

You can’t help but grin into his mouth, buzzing with the energy of it all.

“Now, I was about to make dinner before you came home, but we can go out and celebrate if you want?”

You shake your head, snaking your arms around his neck.

“All I want right now is a night in with you - that’s all the celebration I need. Let’s make that pasta you like, and then we can watch old sitcom reruns on the couch.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Stewy slides his hand into yours, his thumb playing with the shiny band of the ring on your finger.

“It’s gonna be like this forever, you know. We get to do this for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathe, resting your head on his shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

As the sun sets through the floor to ceiling windows, you and Stewy dance across the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the tiles.

Your heart skips a beat every time your ring catches the light.

Your heart skips a beat every time you look at your fiancé.

Your heart skips a beat every time you realise that you’re not dreaming.

This is your life. And you’ve never been more excited to live it.

@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts @nosebeers

[ki-yomii]

baby, don't go | myg

➥pairing | ex!min yoongi x f!reader, mentioned f!reader x omc ➥word count | 5.1k ➥warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, squirting, hand job, finger fucking, porn w/ plot, angst w/ a happy ending, alcohol, exes to lovers, implied cheating (omc is a fuckboy), implied getting back together (reader & yoongi still low key love each other), idol!yoongi ➥summary | "hii can I request for an exes to lovers trope with yoongi 😭💖 lovee your ficss" you find out your boyfriend is cheating on you. thankfully your ex Yoongi is more than happy to distract you. ➥notes | hope you enjoy this anon 😘💚 omc & ofc are named after characters from one of my favourite k-dramas (personal taste iykyk)

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Standing beside you, your friend Kae-In takes a swig of whatever's in her cup - a sickly sweet concoction of fruity soju and Chilsung, most likely - and coolly surveys the backyard.

Small groups of people dot the manicured lawn, others lounging by the fire as they catch up with one another. It's been far too long since everyone's schedules aligned like this.

Years in fact, and there are several who came in from out of town.

Ordinarily you'd be over the moon, but as it were you can barely drum up enough false excitement for your best friend. Let alone others you haven't seen in forever.

Cocking her hip, Kae-In puckers her mouth. "The alcohol isn't even that good." She sighs, pretty face scrunching in disappointment. "Some party this is turning out to be."

Your hard cider, still more than half-full, hides an awkward, ill-fitting smile.

Having nursed your own drink for the last hour, whatever might've been enjoyable about it is long gone. Any refreshing coolness and bright, punchy taste replaced by amber liquid far past room temperature in your clammy palm.

In fact, the fizzy warmth and tart aftertaste of moldering apples turns your stomach with every half-hearted sip.

"At least there's cute guys here - some of them have really grown up."

Her breath ruffles the fringe of her bangs when she huffs, casting an eye to the glass bottle strangled in your grip.

"Are you sure you don't want something a little stronger?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I'm fine - gotta be the DD just in case, y'know?"

"Girl, you're ALWAYS the DD. C'mon, you gotta live a little sometimes."

The nonchalant scolding stings, even if it's meant almost entirely in jest but it's not Kae-In's fault. She doesn't know. No one does. You couldn't muster up the courage to tell her the truth.

Not yet.

It's still too fresh. The wound too raw to go poking around with clumsy fingers.

"Don't be like that," you say with a faltering smile. "I'm having fun."

LIAR.

In actuality, you're a few frayed threads away from snapping. Stuck clinging to the edge of sanity by the fingernails as you battle back tides of crippling grief and blinding rage.

Have been since the first few messages came rolling in; questions with videos attached. There's a part of you grateful they reached out, while another altogether wishes you hadn't seen.

At least not until morning.

Would one more night spent in ignorant bliss have been too much to ask for?

Now you're riding a corkscrew of emotion, one that roils and chafes as ceaseless images parade past your eyelids with every blink. Each one as crisp and clear as the first time you pressed play.

The swirling lights, the heady thrum of bodies. A darkened corner. Your boyfriend of three years who said he couldn't make it. His hand sneaking beneath the hem of a cheap, glittery skirt. The dip of his head as he tucks into the curve of a neck, mouth open and smiling against bare skin.

You shudder, stomach rebelling. When you swallow, it's like trying to down buckets of sand.

Kae-In, none the wiser, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "Well, that makes one of us. I guess." Shrugging, she turns to you and asks with a furrowed brow, "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... a little off."

Panic grabs you by the throat.

This was supposed to be a night full of fun and laughter. You're not supposed to be suffocating in a crowded backyard. On the brink of tears and trying to act like your life hasn't imploded.

Alone - by your own doing, which is even worse - to deal with the crushing weight of an inevitable breakup. The painful extrication of two lives entwined.

How a relationship three years in the making can be shattered in a minute and forty-five seconds is mind boggling. You had it all, and now...

You thought you were going to marry him.

The whiplash of it all almost makes you laugh but only so you don't break down in great, heaving sobs. A heartbreak you're not sure you'll ever recover from. Not for the loss of him but rather the decimation of your trust.

"I'm okay, promise! No need to worry."

The lie weighs heavy on your tongue. Tastes of ash as the words you really want to say hover in the back of your throat, a breath away. Only they can't make it past your lips, stuck to your teeth like hard candy.

"It's just been one of those days."

Your shoulders shoot towards your ears when she hums in response. Fingernails picking at the corner of the sweating cider label so you don't have to meet Kae-In's piercing gaze. You know she can see right through you, and you hate it.

What started as a fun night of planned mayhem turned into desperate distractions though this party has done very little in terms of brightening your mood.

Instead, watching everyone you know have a good time while you stand on the side lines, a stranger in a sea of people, feels more akin to rubbing salt in an open wound.

Miserable but acting like you’re not; waves of bitter loneliness threatening to pull you under because you don’t want to ruin the night.

“Is this because Chang-ryul couldn’t make it?” Kae-In pats your back sympathetically. “What bullshit excuse did he give you this time? I swear, he always does this. Just wait. I’m gonna hit him next time I see him.”

Oh, you don’t even know, you think. You’ll definitely want to do more than hit him.

Your heart throbs at the sound of his name, and isn’t that funny? Such a simple thing - nothing but syllables and letters strung together - and yet it has the power to unmake you completely.

Your tongue swells as you struggle to swallow. Words burn like bile as you force out a laugh; brittle, scraped up from the depths of your chest

“I’d pay to see that,” you croak. Your knuckles ache from how tightly you’re gripping the bottle. “But - no. C-Chang-ryul has nothing to do with it.”

You hate that you stutter over his name.

And perhaps that’s why you don’t want to tell Kae-In just yet.

She’s always hated him.

Always said he was no good. Just another fuckboy looking for beds to warm and hearts to break. And she’s right.

God, why does she have to be right?

You know she’d never hold it over you, but the thought of admitting it - out loud - makes you want to vomit all over your shoes. You need time to stitch your edges back together. Too raw and ragged.

You only just found out.

Your pride can’t handle any more hits right now.

She thumbs her nose with an inelegant snort. “Whatever you say. I could take him in a fight. That boy ain’t shit.”

Your laugh startles you - the first genuine one of the evening - and you shake your head fondly. A soft smile tugs at your lips.

“Oh, no doubt. But really, I’ve just been in a weird mood.”

The twist of her lips shows she doesn’t believe a word you’re saying, but she’s kind enough not to press. Instead, she spends the next while distracting you with tales of her various escapades of the week.

And it helps for a time, truly.

But then you feel a buzz against your thigh, a ding echoing up from your pocket. Your stomach turns to lead, drops to your feet. Without looking at the screen, you pull the cell out of your pocket with shaky hands and quickly flick the ringer off.

Meanwhile, Kae-In watches silently with sharp eyes, and an even sharper frown though she declines to comment on your behavior.

“Anyway,” she continues once she has your attention, “as I was saying, did you see little Ji-Seok? Dude shot up like a tree! Last time I saw him he was as big as a bean sprout.”

You hum, worlds away.

“You could at least act like you’re paying attention,” she sucks her teeth before a smirk starts to slowly tug at her lips, “How about we talk about something - or someone - I know you’ll be interested in?”

Guilt sparks but slowly gives way to dread. You know that expression. Have gotten into trouble more times than you can count because of it.

Heart tattooing a rhythm against your rib cage, you sputter, “Oh no. No! Do not look at me like that.”

“C’mo-on!” she wheedles. “You’re absolutely right. We should be talking about,” she points at someone across the yard with her cup, “Yoongi instead.”

Currently leaning back against a stone wall making up part of the fence, Yoongi nurses a beer. Sticking out like a sore thumb now that he’s making it big as an idol, no longer as mundane as the rest of them.

Hushed whispers follow his every move, his bleached hair and flashy outfit commanding all sorts of covert attention.

The sharp cut of his shirt flatters his lean frame, the black leather jacket over top emphasizing the width of his shoulders. Dark jeans cling to his legs, as tight as a second skin, and causing your attention to stray where it shouldn’t.

And his eyes - oh, how you ever forgot is beyond you.

Dark, hooded, deep, and hungry; intense as they drag over the planes of your face like the caress of his fingers.

Shit.

You shove Kae-In’s hand down with a loud smack before she makes an even bigger fool out of you in front of another ex.

“What the hell are you doing?” You hiss. “That’s so rude!”

Not to mention embarrassing as fuck.

“Y’know,” she pauses to wiggle her brows and shoot you an impish grin, “I bet Yoongi would be more than happy to remind you of how rude he can be.”

You smother a groan in your hands, heartache temporarily forgotten. “I can’t believe you. Seriously. We’re no longer friends.”

“Bitch, you love me. And anyway, you know what I can’t believe?” She asks. “You!”

She gestures towards him again amid your flailing attempts to stop her. “Look at him. Like goddamn, you had it good.”

You take a sip of cider to give your hands something to do, nearly blanching at the warm liquid. Refusing to respond or look up as the topic of conversation watches like a hawk, gaze heavy.

How can he still make you weak-kneed after all this time?

He wasn’t even touching you and you still feel his presence down to your toes, setting your teeth on edge.

You hear your own heartbeat, your breathing shaky, sparks of awareness dancing along your spine. Heat creeps into the apples of your cheeks.

“Knock it off, I’m serious.”

“No, when are you going to get that Chang-ryul isn’t good for you?”

You swallow roughly, all the moisture leaving your mouth.

“Yoongi was the best boyfriend you ever had and treated you the way you deserve. And you know he’s never been interested in anyone but you. Hell, he’s barely looked away from you since he got here and the break-up was years ago.”

You shift, perspiration breaking out on your brow. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“When will you give it up?” She blows a raspberry, shaking her head. “I know you regret how it went down between you guys. Now that he’s here - when you finally have a chance to make it right you just - just - ugh!”

Shooting her a weak half-smile and a shrug, you turn your attention to the small glowing fire pit.

Other’s are gathered around it, relishing in the glow of warmth that wars against the balmy summer breeze cutting through the air. Focusing on the dance and flicker of the flames is a needed moment of peace in entropy.

Though you know it isn’t going to last - not with a motormouth for a friend.

“So-o, what are you waiting for?”

“Sorry?”

She nods towards Yoongi subtly.

He’s finally busy with his own conversation, his gummy smile a quick flash of brightness. “When are you going to stick it to Chang-ryul and hop on that dick?”

“Oh my god!”

Kae-In shrugs. “What.”

“Don’t 'what' me. Seriously?”

A bony elbow digs between your ribs. You wheeze.

“C’mon,” she says, “You already know it’s good with him, and you deserve someone who’s there for you 110%. Someone who will treat you right. You know I worry about you.”

A wave of emotions threatens to completely drown you in that moment, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Her tender concern - her care - feels altogether too much and not enough.

As overwhelming as a tsunami; your heart a raw, exposed nerve.

All you’ve ever wanted was to be loved.

To feel like someone’s first and only choice.

You used to think Chang-ryul was someone who could provide that. What a fool you’ve been. Men like him don’t fall in love, they only pretend to.

They sneak inside your heart and take what they want from your bed. To him, you’re nothing but a fun little stop; a footnote, read and forgotten.

Your heart squeezes, shuddering from a pain your palm can’t soothe away.

It’s a terrible idea.

But maybe…

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to lick your wounds with someone you know cares about you. Has always cared about you, and probably always will.

Clearing your throat, you consider his profile from beneath your lashes.

Yoongi's always made you feel wanted. Looked after you as though you were something rare and precious.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that.

Somehow, some way, he senses you looking because he pauses mid-sentence.

Turns to meet you head-on, tracing your face with what can only be called greed. Stopping short when they catch on the lip trapped between your teeth.

Something akin to hunger cuts across his face.

His brows dip low, a palpable heat flooding the inky depths of his eyes. Shadows deepen the lines of his face, the shifting firelight highlighting the flex of a jawline for days, burning halo gold in his hair.

It’s a look you’re intimately familiar with.

Usually preceding a hand-shaking, mind-numbing fuck session where his cock gets as deep as it can, rutting hard and fast, bringing you over the edge again and again until you’re left a wrecked mess. 

Your heart jumps, gallops headlong into a rapid beat.

You feel the rush of blood in your chest, every breath stuttered, stomach lurching. Shaking. Jittery. Tongue tied in a thousand knots and you haven’t even said a word.

It was much easier to pretend you weren’t so magnetically drawn to Yoongi when you weren’t riding the single’s train. When he was away in Seoul chasing after his dreams.

Now that he’s got downtime and your relationship has hit a brick wall? His mere presence sears you to the bone. Drags you in like a black hole.

And that?

So not good.

Swallowing roughly, you tear your attention away. You’d forgotten how intense and blindly bright he can be.

There’s a throb developing in your temple, sharp little darts of pain lancing through your skull. An impending headache if you don’t get some air that doesn’t taste like wood-smoke and cheap alcohol.

“I think I’m gonna head in for a bit. Need to get away.”

You shake your head and toss your bottle into the bin on the way inside, Kae-In shouting her acknowledgement with a thumbs up. Makes you promise to contact her in case of any change in plans.

Nearly everyone’s outside so it should be less crowded, more quiet. Most importantly, away from Yoongi and that penetrating stare which makes you more flustered than you care to admit.

Alas, the kitchen isn’t empty not for long.

You’re lounging against the counter, elbows bent, head rolled back and stinging eyes closed when the back door creaks open. Biting off a groan, you swivel your head to the side.

When you see it’s Yoongi who follows you in, you almost slip and brain yourself on the tile. Mouth dry, palms sweaty, heart beating out of control; scrambling into a more flattering posture while patting down your hair.

He chuckles, his nose scrunched and smile coy.

Seeing him happy always makes you tender, weak.

It seems that hasn’t changed a bit.

No amount of pictures or videos do it justice. Granted, Yoongi looks good any time, any day. But seeing his whole face light up like that in person? Utterly priceless.

It’s a struggle to breathe properly around the lump forming in your throat.

Of course, it has to be him.

Wiping your palms off on your thighs, you greet him with an awkward wave, “Uhhh, hey - hey there, Yoongi.”

Oh my god. Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.

“Y’know what,” you say, “I was just about to head back outside…”

As you pass by, he catches your arm.

Long fingers curl around your wrist, callouses dragging across your pulse. Your gut clenches, an unexpected bloom of warmth shooting through your core at the sight of his broad palm holding you captive.

His grip is firm but loose enough that you could pull away.

All it serves to do is remind you of nights spent beneath his body, the slide of sweat-slick skin, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, pussy filled to the brim with cock. His rough voice music to your ears, prideful as he gloats about how well you’re taking him.

"Leaving so soon?” He asks silkily.

A hard tug sends you slamming into the wall of his chest.

Air rushes from your lungs, your hands trapped against his collarbones. Firm muscles contract beneath your palms, his body shoving into your touch.

Twisting your fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt, you look at him from beneath your lashes. Your voice whisper soft when you say, “Yoongi…”

His dark eyes, the colour of a rich espresso, track the path of your tongue as you wet your lips. Fingers drag over the soft line of your neck, tracing your fluttering pulse.

Touch feather light as it stops by the corner of your mouth, pressing down on the swell of your lip.

“I haven’t said hello yet.”

Eyes wide, all you do is watch and wait with baited breath. Stunned into silence at his proximity. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close, the smell of his expensive cologne nostalgic.

Your body recognizes his, responding all the same. The connection between you electric, overwhelmingly so.

His head bows, bleached strands brushing your forehead. The tip of his nose rubs yours. You get lost in counting his eyelashes, tracing the bridge of his nose to the carved slope of his cheeks.

Surrounded by him, the urge to resist what’s happening is nearly non-existent. Though you wish it wasn’t so easy to be caught by him.

“One of the guys said something interesting,” he says, his breath ghosting across your face; mint and beer. “It's about you actually.”

He flashes the smile that sends your heart soaring, your stomach flipping.

The slightest peek of a metal chain resting in the crook of his neck, surrounded by a very tempting patch of skin you want to taste, has you a little dumbfounded, absentminded.

“Oh?”

You really hope you don’t sound as frazzled as you feel but the haughty superiority of his slow appraisal of your body, the cocksure smirk on his lips states otherwise.

You really wish you could knock him down a peg but confidence looks amazing on him.

Always has.

“They said you have a boyfriend now. Is that true?”

You manage the slightest shake of your head in the negative - no, not anymore - your heart thundering in your ears.

Your breath catches in anticipation just before Yoongi closes the remaining inches between you with a hum of approval.

His head tilts to the side as he slots your mouths together in a kiss that’s got your toes curling. A filthy wet slide of lips, his the slightest bit chapped, send you under, liquid warmth filling your belly.

You inhale sharply, a moan vibrating against his lips.

Melting into the cage of his arms as his hands clamp down on your hips possessively, tugging you closer. Pressed stem to stern like this there’s no hiding the evidence of his desire.

He’s already half-hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against the zipper.

His eyes are hooded when he pulls away.

“Wanna take this somewhere a little more private, baby?” Yoongi asks, running his nose up the length of your neck and inhaling.

How is this my life, you think, dazed.

His hips grind forward against you so there’s no mistaking what you’re dealing with. “It’ll be just like old times.”

After an awkward fumble and an elbow to the side, you settle on the downstairs bathroom. He follows, quickly pinning you to the door while struggling to toss his leather jacket over the sink.

With a flick of the lock, you’re finally alone without any possible interruption. The door muffles most of the ruckus outside, leaving you hyper aware of every hurried breath, every low-throated murmur.

For a long while it’s nothing but a mess of lips, his body molding to yours. Easy to fall back into the old rhythms of your relationship as though you never left it.

He holds you down.

His fingers in your hair, on your jaw. His tongue gliding over your lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it slide back out through his teeth.

You meet him kiss for kiss, your hands finding their way into his back pockets, tugging, groping, loving how he bucks up into the cradle of your hips in response.

A sweet ache settles low and deep.

“Yoongi,” you sigh. “Fuck, I forgot how much you like to tease.”

His thumb circles your nipple through your shirt, teasing it into a sensitive, stiff peak that shows through the thin fabric.

The caresses send soft pulses straight to your clit, the intensity getting stronger and stronger the rougher he is.

Before long, you’re aware of how achingly empty you are.

Yoongi nips the corner of your jaw.

“Never forgot how fun teasing you is,” he murmurs into the silk of your skin. “How wet you get for me.”

“Shit, you can’t just say something like that.”

“Can’t I?” His laugh, genuine and vibrant, sounds through his chest and into yours. “You can bitch all you want, but I know you love it.”

A smile, all teeth.

“Isn’t that right, baby?”

You glare at him weakly through half lidded eyes.

Two can play that game.

“Fuck!” Yoongi bites out, those impossibly dark eyes sliding shut when you reach down to palm him through his jeans.

His breath whooshes from him in a loud exhale, his jaw working back and forth. “That’s cheating.”

You smirk, feeling him throb in your hand.

”What were you saying, Yoongs?” Humming, you rub your chest against his, using a fingertip to trace the outline of his shaft. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Spearing you with a weighted look, Yoongi shoves you back into the door harder than before, the wood creaking under the pressure. Fist resting on the frame next to your head, his body cages you in.

Every shuddered inhale has the planes of his firm chest pressing into yours with the expansion of his lungs. His hips buck up into the softness of your palm with a grunt.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, pretty girl,” he cautions.

Competitiveness is a gift and a curse.

Not one to be outdone, you brush away any lingering reservations - which being honest, there weren’t many left. His relieved groan when you tug out his cock reverberates through you.

Shit, that’s so unfair.

Yoongi already sounds wrecked yet you’ve barely touched him. How the fuck are you going to get through this without completely combusting when he actually cums?

Thinking that maybe focusing on what you’re doing will help, you look down.

Big mistake.

Dark designer jeans circle his thighs, low enough for his cock to spring free.

Flushed, curved towards his belly, the head swollen and sticky with pre-cum. The shaft a decent handful that pulses when your palm skims the side.

Feminine appreciation at the sight has velvet heat pooling between your thighs, pussy clenching at the thought of him inside you.

Sex with him was always stupidly good.

All those veiled lyrics about his skill in the bedroom far too accurate for comfort.

Since you broke up, you haven’t been with anyone that comes close to his ability in getting you off.

He’s ruined you.

His face burrows into the crook of your neck with a low groan. His breath puffs across your skin, shivers racing down your spine.

Low voice full of grit, he says, “Shit, baby, that feels…”

Hot palms anchor themselves to your hips.

“Wait a sec,” he says, body twitching with aborted thrusts, strong fingers kneading. “Wanna do you too.”

Heart jumping, you let go of him long enough to yank your shirt over your head and kick off your pants before returning your hand to his cock.

In the meantime, he rucks his shirt up under his armpits. You can’t help but make a noise in the back of your throat as the length of his torso is exposed.

All that soft, smooth skin stretching over his stomach as he flexes. You have to fight down the urge to run your tongue along the outline of his hip.

Mouth slack, Yoongi pushes up the cups of your bra. Watches laser-focused on the bounce of your tits as they drop free, subtly swaying with every jerk of your wrist.

His hips fuck up into the circle of your hand while one of his own inches down to brush the crease of your thigh. Your hips tilt towards his touch, desperate for friction.

“Oh god.” He moans, calloused fingers dipping between your folds. “You’re so wet for me.”

You wiggle, whining against his lips as you meet in a messy kiss. His touch is light, gentle, barely there as he traces the length of your slit.

You’re trembling, skin too tight, body feverish. “Stop teasing, I want you inside me.”

Those seem to be the magic words because Yoongi gives a rumble of approval, using his thumb to spread slick over your swollen clit in tight circles.

Heat coils in your belly, electricity racing down your spine. Your thighs splay as wide as they can, making room for his hand.

His knuckles brush your skin.

Dipping down to your entrance, Yoongi works on spreading you open with shallow thrusts until you take three fingers comfortably.

Your needy sighs and soft moans bounce off the walls.

His low murmurs right in your ear as the pads stroke your walls, his wrist flexing. He’s hitting all the right spots, still remembering how to get you off years after the fact.

You’re quickly turning weak-kneed and wet eyed.

“Fuck, Yoongs, right there,” you keen, baring down on the digits nudging your g-spot, your grip tightening around his shaft.

You grind your palm over the swollen tip, gathering beads of pre-cum.

He hisses, thrusts off beat.

Fingers nudge up suddenly, pressing deep and holding in retaliation. White lightening crackles behind your eyelids, thighs twitching, mouth dropping open.

“Yeah, just like that, pretty girl.”

Your world narrows down to every filthy slide of his cock in your hand, every gush of slick as he stuffs fingers into you over and over again until you’re a writhing mess against the door.

Your nerve endings are alive with pleasure, the stimulation too much and not enough.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, doubling his efforts, wrist working faster.

Dapples of sweat litter his brow, his eyes staring into yours, glazed over and lusting.

Fuck, he’s handsome like this.

It’s a little embarrassing how bad he’s got you but between the blissed-out expression he’s wearing, the weight of him in your hand, and how full you are, you know this orgasm is going to be quick, messy.

The pace of his hips pick up, his breath hitching in his throat, length twitching and thickening in your grip.

He’s getting close, his touch rougher, more force behind the snapping thrusts of his hips, teeth nipping at the side of your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you say, breathless, twisting your hand on the upstroke. He smothers a grunt in your shoulder. “Give it to me.”

It doesn’t take much more to bring him to the edge.

A particular spread of his fingers has you jolting, a sudden, intense spike of pleasure shooting right to your clit.

In turn, you unintentionally massage his cock, knuckles bumping the underside of the swollen head.

He’s a goner.

Cumming with a low, wounded whine and a shuttered thrust, Yoongi smacks the door with his free hand. Thick spurts of jizz make an absolute mess of his stomach and your knuckles.

Sagging forward like a doll with cut strings, all his dead weight bears down on you.

He pants, small tremors wrack his frame. “Baby,” he murmurs, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I missed you s’much.”

“Missed you too,” you reply, using nice, languid strokes to wring the last of his orgasm out of him. “More than I thought I did.”

In lieu of a response, Yoongi wiggles his fingers inside you, rebuilding the rhythm he lost. He flutters them, curls up against your walls, peppering kisses along the length of your jaw with a hum.

Slick drips down his wrist, the sloppy sound of him finger fucking your cunt blending with a surge of desperate moans.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Yoongi says against your chin. “So fucking hot, wanna see you cum.”

Your back arches, your fingers digging into the width of his shoulders, head smacking the door with a dull thud.

“Can you do that for me?”

Nodding frantically, you fall apart with a broken gasp. Clamping down so hard he can’t move, the cramps softened by the throbbing heat washing over you. Blood rushes in your ears as your pussy gushes around his fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, tone heated. “You did so well for me.”

By the time your brain comes back online, you’ve forgotten all about Chang-ryul and the constant vibration of your phone where it’s shoved - forgotten - into your pocket.

The only thing that matters is Yoongi with his tender kisses and greedy hands.