#lemonade mouth gif just for you

[pedrospatch]

flutter

Jackson! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

[skyrigel]

Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖

You are in love 1 || B.B

Part 2 of " you are in love"

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin

Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut

Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.

" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.

Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.

" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."

You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.

" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.

" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.

" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.

" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.

" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.

Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.

" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.

" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.

" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.

" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.

" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.

"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.

" I called you cute too." He squabbled.

" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.

" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.

" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.

" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.

" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."

" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.

You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.

" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.

" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.

" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.

" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.

" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.

" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.

" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.

" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.

" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.

" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.

" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.

" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.

" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.

" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.

" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.

" Well, someone's gotta teach you."

" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.

" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.

" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.

" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.

" He kissed her already ? "

" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.

" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.

" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.

Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.

" —then you can tell me about love."

Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.

" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.

" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.

You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.

" Love," he began," is like music."

" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.

Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.

" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.

" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.

" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.

" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.

" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.

" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."

" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.

" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.

" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.

Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.

" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.

You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.

" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.

" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.

" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.

" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."

You can hear it in the silence.

It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.

If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.

Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.

" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.

" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.

you can feel it with the light's out.

He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.

He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.

The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.

And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.

And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.

You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.

He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?

More than anything.

His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.

You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.

Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.

Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?

You are my best friend.

Part 2

[writtenfangirl]

Madness

I wrote this so long ago and then abandoned it because I didn’t know if the ending was satisfactory or not. I thought it would have a greater plot as well but when I couldn’t find it, I was dissatisfied until I reread it and realized the prose was too good not to publish.

Fluff but also a little bit of angst if you squint hard enough.

In which Benedict Bridgerton finally reveals the truth.

She was beautiful. Too beautiful, if Benedict was being perfectly honest with himself. Not the kind of beauty that had him picking up a paint brush and painstakingly striking an easel with lovely swirls of color but the kind of beauty that distracted him, made him brood in a dim corner of the room, watching the little twists of her mouth and the subtle way she arched a brow. Beauty to the point of distraction, like spending hours watching shooting stars dash across the night sky, not realizing as dawn approached on the horizon.

It was utterly maddening.

She was utterly maddening.

How was he meant to live, to exist and breathe, to witness such great beauty and yet have none of the capacity, the right, to keep it?

Just a glance from her, a single curve of her lips, and Benedict could feel his faith in God strengthening as easily as he could deny the Lord’s existence. Only a benevolent God could create such ecstatic beauty and yet no benevolent God could exist in this world if Benedict had to bear the cruelty of Y/N’s indifference.

Maddening.

He sighed, the sound bereft as he continued to watch her charm the eligible men of the ton. She had a veritable cabal of men gathered around her and if any other debutant had been in her position, they surely would have been overwhelmed by now.

But not Y/N.

Never Y/N.

With her head held high and her smile demure, she directed the men as easily as if she was holding court. A slight clearing of the throat and already, someone had a glass of lemonade in their hand while a flap of her hand would have the men falling over themselves in an attempt to get her a chair.

A queen holding court, indeed.

Benedict rolled his eyes at the man to her right, who practically shoved at the man on his left in order to catch Y/N’s attention. Not that it really mattered though, especially not when Y/N’s attention was focused on Benedict.

Even from across the room, the tension between them felt palpable. Exhilarating. It always had been with Y/N. Thick and smooth, the connection between them as tangible as their own beating hearts. Just a shared look between them and the world fell silent, the edges of his vision practically darkening at the edges until he saw only her.

Beautiful. Even as her face contorted with hurt for the briefest of seconds, her eyes pulling away from him and returning to the crowd of men that surrounded her.

Benedict gritted his teeth, the only sign of annoyance he let himself show.

“I see you are not quite so enamored with our diamond.”

Benedict’s head whipped to the left, finding Lady Danbury watching him with those shrewd eyes of hers. The old crone had her cane gripped tightly in her hands and Benedict fought his grimace at the phantom pain that shot up from his ankles. The dowager countess had a terrible habit of whacking gentlemen she didn’t like with that sturdy cane of hers and Benedict had felt the brunt of that pain far too many times for his liking.

Still, as a gentleman, he couldn’t very well ignore the woman. It would have been terribly rude of him to and it went against every fiber of the etiquette that had been drilled to him as a child.

He spared Y/N another glance before he spoke. “You think all those men enamored with her?”

“I think they think themselves enamored by her,” Lady Danbury said. “She is quite a beauty and accomplished too, I hear. Are you acquainted with the young lady?”

He had been, when he was young. As recently as a few months ago, Benedict had counted Y/N as one of his dearest friends but with everything that transpired between them…

“We are familiar with one another.”

Lady Danbury arched a brow, directing her attention back to Y/N. She was animatedly speaking with Anthony and Colin, the only time the entire evening where her smile didn’t seem a little bit forced. “Your brothers seem friendly with her. Why aren’t you?”

Because he was a stupid, bloody, idiot who didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut, that’s why.

But his pride would never let him say that, especially not in front of Lady Danbury. “We are familiar with each other.” He repeated, voice tight.

Lady Danbury’s eyes flickered. “I seem to recall your mother telling me about how you and the Lady Y/N were thick as thieves not so long ago.”

Bloody hell, the old crone was relentless. He didn’t want to talk about his and Y/N’s falling out, especially not with her.

He suddenly whirled, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, I believe I hear someone calling me.”

No one was calling him but not even his impeccable manners could make him stay.

Lady Danbury harrumphed. “I may be old, boy, but I am not deaf.”

“Definitely hear someone calling me.” Benedict even cupped a hand, placing it on the side of his mouth before he yelled a quick, “I’ll be right there!” He turned back to Lady Danbury, who was looking at him as if she knew his claims were a lie. “Lady Danbury, if you’ll excuse me.”

The dowager countess simply gave Benedict a knowing look yet let him go.

He ducked into the crowd towards… bloody hell he couldn’t find anyone he would rather talk to. His brothers were still off speaking with Y/N and he didn’t feel like speaking with his mother, who would likely hound him about his fight with Y/N. Which left the last person of their party, Eloise. A quick scan of the room revealed his sister in the other side of the room, conspiratorially whispering to her best friend, Penelope Featherington.

He zoomed towards them, turning his back on Y/N and Lady Danbury.

Eloise caught his eye as he approached and her lips pursed in displeasure. “Why do you look as if you’re expecting me to bail you out of a horrible situation.”

“Can’t I see my favorite sister with joy in my face without being suspected of ill intent?”Benedict said with a grin before bowing to Penelope, who returned the gesture with her own curtsy.

Penelope ducked her head to suppress a giggle.

Eloise rolled her eyes at him. “What do you want?”

“To ask you why you’re sulking in a corner instead of dancing despite—“ he pulled at the dance card in her wrist, every single line filled with names that were unfamiliar to him. “Did you put fake names in your dance card?”

Eloise snatched her wrist back. “Yes. I thought that with Y/N grabbing the attention of so many of the gentlemen, I would be spared the embarrassment of having to entertain any gentlemen tonight. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”

Benedict turned to Penelope. “How many approached her?”

“Six,” Penelope smirked, “and those six quickly turned right back around.”

“Well with a full dance card, I’m not at all surprised.”

Eloise rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Spare me the lecture, brother. I’m sure I’ll hear enough from mother tonight.”

“She caught you?”

“After Eloise turned down the sixth one, Lady Violet began to suspect,” Penelope explained.

Benedict grinned. “When have you known me to lecture you?”

She gave him a saccharine smile, the kind that Benedict always knew would end with her barbed words. “Aren’t you meant to be fawning over Y/N? You’d done it most of our life.”

He bristled at her words.

Penelope shot them a curious look. “You never told me you were acquainted with the lady?”

“Hadn’t I?” Eloise frowned. “Lady Y/L/N’s family and ours have been acquainted for ages. Of course, she rarely ever came to London and if it hadn’t been for her father’s recent passing she wouldn’t have had a season at all. Mama had held hope that perhaps one of my dear brothers would begin to take some responsibility and marry her.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper that was so loud, it still reached Benedict’s ears. “Personally, I always thought Benedict would offer. He and Y/N had a special bond growing up. Even Daphne thinks so.”

Benedict had never hit a woman before but perhaps, just this once, excuses could be made for one’s sisters.

“So, well acquainted then,” Penelope said with a slight smile.

“I do recall Benedict pining after Y/N for years,” Eloise mused, uncaring as Benedict’s mood soured. “You never did tell me why it is you suddenly became estranged”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” He grumbled.

Eloise batted eyes innocently. “Irritable today, aren’t you, brother? Could it possibly be because of the cadre of men that hound every one of Y/N’s footsteps?”

“I have changed my mind. Francesca is now my favorite sister.”

“I love you too, Benedict,” she all but grinned.

He turned his attention back to Y/N, who, to his surprise, had taken her leave.

“She’s in the garden, if you wish to speak to her,” Eloise said, noting his wandering eyes and nodding towards the open veranda at the side.

“What gave you the impression that I would like to speak to her?” He tried to do his best nonchalant impression but not even Benedict was convinced of his own performance.

Eloise simply rolled her eyes at him before tugging Penelope’s arm. “With Y/N taking her respite, I imagine there will be a sudden influx of gentlemen who would like to dance. Let us make ourselves scarce.” And she pulled Penelope along, the red head offering Benedict an apologetic look.

He glanced at the crowd once again before letting his feet carry him through the veranda and out towards the garden. There were still many people milling about outside that granted them protection from scandal but it was much more intimate than the loud din of the ballroom.

The night was cool, the spring air serene compared to the humidity of the ballroom.

He spied Y/N, her back turned against the door. Upon hearing his approach, she sighed. “Good sir, if you did not understand me, I wish to be al—“ she turned and her words died at her lips at the sight of him. “Oh. It’s you.”

She looked even lovelier up close. She always did. Whether dressed in a simple frock with her long hair flowing down her back or dressed ornately with jewels adorning her, she always looked lovelier up close.

“What do you want, Benedict,” Y/N said, dropping that societal mask she employed inside.

“To apologize.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing to apologize for. You asked for my hand under false pretenses, I rejected you. End of story.“

“Under false pretenses?” He echoed, his own tone turning sharp. “You think my proposal to be insincere? Is that why you rejected me?”

“I did not think it insincere, I knew it to be insincere. I heard you and the Lady Violet discussing me. I heard when you declared your intention to ask for my hand in marriage simply because she had asked you to.”

Oh.

Oh.

He remembered then, the conversation he had with his mother right before he proposed.

“Propose to her,” Violet had urged just as breakfast had been served, with only Benedict and Violet dining.

“I am not even courting her, mama,” he replied exasperatedly. It had been far too early in the morning to entertain his mother’s insistence on seeing him wed to Y/N. She’d pestered him about it in one form or another even before the Y/L/Ns had come to visit the Bridgertons and Benedict knew she would not stop until he and Y/N were formally engaged.

But Y/N had just ended her mourning period for her father. And though societal mandates dictated that it was perfectly reasonable for Benedict to ask for her hand in marriage, he knew how deeply she mourned the man, especially since his death had placed her in such a precarious position. The late patriarch of the Y/L/N family had been fond of his only child, even if she had been born a girl. And Y/N had loved him, even if his death left her and her mother saddled with financial debt despite coming from the longest line of barony in England.

“What does it matter that you are not courting?” Violet demanded. “You have known her since you were both children. You’ve been courting her all your life.”

“Mama, please leave it well enough alone.”

“What is it that you do not like about her?” She insisted. “She is beautiful and accomplished and you have known each other your whole lives. Any young man would be fortunate to be bound to her in marriage.”

“I never said anything that would imply otherwise.”

“Then why do you refuse to ask her for her hand in marriage? Doing so would spare her a season in London and limit their financial troubles.” And then she had gasped in indignation. “Or is their financial troubles the very reason why you refuse? I never raised you to be avaricious!”

Bloody hell. “I am not avaricious, mother. I do not care about her dowry or lack thereof!”

“Then what is it? Do not tell me it is because you do not love her. I have seen the way you look at her.”

Benedict had eyed his fork, had wondered if perhaps, it would be a better to shove it in his ears than listen to his mother’s hullabaloo.

Instead he took a scone, spreading a generous layer of clotted cream and jam so his hands had something to do rather than maim himself.

“And how is it I look at her, mother?” He drawled.

“The same way your father used to look at me.”

At that he had paused, scone half-raised to his mouth. He hadn’t known what to say anymore. Mentions of his own father had always been capable of silencing his mind.

Finally, he had decided on telling her the truth, that his mother may finally stop pestering him.

“Asking Y/N for her hand in marriage had always been the plan, mother,” Benedict relented. “I was simply waiting for the perfect moment.”

Violet smiled at her son kindly. “There are no such thing as perfect moments, dearest. Only moments that can be made perfect. And whether you ask her later or tomorrow or next week, that moment will be perfect by virtue of you asking.”

She was right, of course. Violet Bridgerton was so rarely incorrect especially in matters of the heart and love.

Benedict had given her a smile, and said, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Well, since you so graciously asked me to, I shall propose to the Lady Y/N, if only to make you happy.”

That must have been what Y/N heard. Not the whole story but the end, when Benedict had teased his mother.

Now he was convinced that God existed and that he must be cruel. Only the machinations of a cruel God could have lined up the timing perfectly.

Y/N’s eyes flickered as she regarded him. “I do not wish to bind you in marriage with someone you do not hold any affection for. You have fulfilled your promise to your mother and have asked for my hand. I rejected you. We no longer have any obligations with one another. Good night.” She made a move to pass him, to walk back to the ballroom to her gaggle of men but Benedict’s hand shot up, gripping her arm and keeping her to him.

His hands were gloved and even Y/N’s arms were sheathed in silk. And though he had never felt gloves to be particularly offensive, he wished to burn the ones that covered their hands. If only so he could feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.

The heady scent of her perfume wafted through his senses. She smelled divine, like walking through a garden of roses under the cover of moonlight as the stars twinkled above his head. Utterly mouthwatering, and capable of driving even the sanest of men into insanity. The scent of distraction.

Always so distracting.

Benedict forced his mouth to speak before his brain could forget the words he needed to say. “Do you think so little of me? Capable of such cruelty especially when it comes to you.”

Y/N’s brows met, a flash of pain in her eyes and then it was gone. “It is the opposite, really. I think the world of you, Benedict. Only a gentleman would offer to marry a girl he has no obligations to simply because of her precarious position in life. You are an honorable man and any woman would be lucky to call you their husband. It is why I cannot accept your proposal, not when you do not love me. Not when there is no one on this world more deserving of love than you.”

Benedict frowned at her. “Why do you continue to insist that I do not love you?”

“Because you do not!” She pulled away from him, wrenching her hand from his grasp. Her eyes were pure anguish as she looked at him and the very sight of her pain had him staggering back. “If you truly held any affection for me, I would know. I have studied you all our lives, Benedict. And in all the time we shared together, you had never shown any affection for me beyond that of a friend. Your proposal hurt, Benedict. I have loved you in every way a man could be loved for so long and for you to ask for my hand in marriage out of pity—“ She choked, eyes widening as if she didn’t mean to say the things she’d said.

“You love me?” He echoed, heart beating quickly in his chest. He wondered, briefly, if his fast beating heart marks the day he really lived. If Y/N’s confession had been the reason he truly felt alive for the first time in his life.

Her face crumpled in pain as she stepped back. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said those things. Please take your leave, Benedict. That I may salvage whatever scraps of my dignity is left.”

But Benedict did no such thing.

Instead he took her hands and lowered himself into a kneel, setting his eyes upon her. The arching light of the manor spilled over the veranda casted her in a soft glow that took his very breath away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in alarm and whatever pain she held there was washed away by her surprise. “Benedict, what are you doing?”

“Begging you for forgiveness.”

“What? Benedict, get up.”

But he held firm, his determination cementing his knees to the ground. “Forgive me, Y/N, for my grave transgressions against you. That you had ever lived your life doubting my affections for you, or wondering if I cared for you as more than a friend are sins I will carry with me to my last breath. It will be my great shame that I had not made it abundantly clear that I love you. Because I do love you. Most ardently.”

“Benedict, get up. This is madness—“

“You are right. It is madness. The way I feel for you would drive the sanest of people into lunacy. But if loving you is madness then I don’t ever wish to be sane.”

Her eyes gleamed silver with unshed tears that threatened to fall from her pretty eyes. “B-But that morning, the day you proposed—“

“I did not propose to you out of pity for you, I did it out of pity for me. I needed to put myself out of my misery and finally marry the only girl I ever had the privilege of falling in love with rather than continue pining after you in secret.”

She let out a a laugh through her tears, the sound like bells chiming during a storm. Light and beautiful despite the pouring rain that threatened to drown it out. “Ask me again.”

His heart leapt to his throat, pounding so quickly he struggled to get the words out. But they came nonetheless, the words clear and betraying none of his anxiety. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

too nice

words: 1k

rafe is turned on by you... being nice?

warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, p in v sex (no climax included lol i ended it early bc it felt right)

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

it's not that rafe isn't used to people being nice to him, but it's a different kind of nice. it's being pleasant out of fear of him and what he will do. you, on the other hand, don't see him that way for whatever reason. you are nice to him simply because you are a nice person, and wouldn't think to be anything but sweet to the cameron boy.

“hey rafe, how's your day today?” you ask, leaning your chin onto your first as you prop your head up on the side of the boat, the sun hitting your skin and warming it. 

“good, thanks for asking darling.” rafe says, really not in the mood to be out on the water, but when topper said you would be joining them on the boat, he couldn't pass up the chance on getting close to you

“no problem.” you smile, bending your knees and bringing your heels to rest on the plastic couch material, looking off into the distance as the boat flies over the water, humming along softly to the music.

“do you want something? a water or a coke?” you ask rafe, feeling your mouth is a little too dry and needing something to replenish it.

“water is fine.” rafe nods. “thank you, y/n.”

you smile at him before standing up to find the cooler, getting out a water for rafe and a can of lemonade for yourself. you return to the spot on the couch, noticing that kelce has moved to rafes other side.

“here ya go.” you tell rafe, taking your seat again after handing him the water. 

“you're too nice.” rafe says, shifting in his seat. 

“im not too nice.” you roll your eyes. “im just being friendly.”

“mhm.” rafe hums, taking a sip of his water. when the boat stops and everyone jumps off, he has to run to the bathroom, surprised he lasted so long with you sitting next to him, so fucking sweet, and barely covered by your small bikini.

he fucks his fist, the image of you in his head, imagining you between his legs, your mouth on his cock, or bending you over the sink as he takes you from behind, holding your plump ass in his hands. 

he cums thinking of your moans, thinking of fucking your tight pussy, how nice you'd be about it, how much you'd thank him and bat your eyelashes.

he cleans up before heading out of the interior to see you standing on the deck, dripping wet, and he instantly rehardens in his swim shorts.

--

“rafe!” you gasp against his lips, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt.

“can't believe you're this nice to everyone.” he kisses you harder, not allowing you to think as his lips slide against yours. “such a fucking sweetheart.”

“please!” you gasp out, grinding your hips against rafes as he presses into you.

“begging me to fuck you.” rafe laughs, pressing his cock into you through the layers of clothing. “and being so nice about it. such good manners, baby.”

“need you.” you tug at rafes clothing, desperate to get him naked. rafe steps away to free himself of the sweatshirt and tshirt, tugging his sweatpants down as well to leave him in just underwear. it had been a long day out on the boat, and rafe was glad he brought a change of clothes for after he was done swimming and the sun fell in the sky.

“i wonder…” rafe says, tugging at your coverup, navigating the confusing straps until it's off your body. “if you taste as sweet as you act.” rafe tugs the zipper on your bikini top down until the sides split apart, your breasts spilling out.

rafe props you up onto the sink, wishing he was fucking you in someplace nicer than the bathroom on toppers family boat, but it was clean and big enough to make do. 

rafe latches onto your nipple, his other hand covering your breast as he toys with it. you throw your head back, pressing it against the mirror as rafe attacks your chest, sucking, licking and pulling at your nipples.

“ive always wanted to taste your pussy.” rafe lifts you off the vanity with one hand, tugging your swimsuit bottoms down with the other, not even needing your help in getting you naked. 

rafe sinks to his knees, the bottom of his feet pressing against the opposite wall but ignoring the cramped space as he spreads your thighs, revealing your wet cunt to him, already leaking from his kisses elsewhere.

rafe buries his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping over your folds without spreading them, keeping his touches teasing and not where you truly want him.

“please, rafe, come on.” you tug at his hair, pulling him closer and causing his tongue to push through your folds and separate them. rafe slurps at your juices, making obscene noises that you hope no one else can hear as he pulls away and looks up at you with a half smile. “i knew it.” he nods. “you taste just as sweet as you act.”

rafe licks at your cunt like it’s the best thing he’s tasted, not tearing himself away until his tongue brings you to your first orgasm of the night, and he still makes sure to lick up all your sweetness before standing.

“want me to fuck you, darling?” rafe asks, rubbing his hand over his cock, still covered by his underwear.

“yes, please, rafey, want you so bad.” you pant, tugging at the waistband of his underwear until rafe concedes and pushes them down his legs.

“let me taste you-” you begin, going to get off the sink, but rafe stops you from kneeling on the ground.

“as much as i’d like that baby, i need to be inside of you. you’ll have plenty of time to suck me off later.” you pout but nod, fine with hurrying it up if it means getting to feel rafes impressive length in your cunt. “so theres gonna be more times?” you ask, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders.

“princess, you thought once i got a taste if your pussy that i would be satisfied with just fucking you once? of course there will be more times.” rafe leans in and kisses you gently. “you’re too cute.” he states, and then pushes his hips forward, plunging his cock deep inside of you.

[writing-fanics]

strawberry lemonade

Sanji x LuffyOlderSister!Reader

the waiter walked over the table holding the plate of bread, "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food." He said annoyed, his hand stuffed into his pockets as he placed the plate of bread onto the table

“My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?” Sanji said, looking at the table his hand in his pockets.

Luffy grabbed the bread plate. "One of everything, please," he said. [Y/n] shook her head, smiling at her always-hungry little brother who could eat a whole buffet and still ask for seconds.

The waiter approached the table with a friendly smile and a suggestion: "May I interest you in one of our signature cocktails to elevate your dining experience?" As he spoke, [Y/n] swiftly and deftly took one of the warm rolls from the basket in the center of the table. Luffy was taken aback and protested with a playful "Hey!" [Y/n] responded by sticking out her tongue, teasingly. She then tore off a piece of the warm, crusty bread and popped it into her mouth, savoring the flavor.

As she looked up, her gaze met the waiter's. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed his flirtatious smile. "My apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you like to start with an apéritif?" he asked, still smiling at her.

Her face turned bright red. "We have some rare Micqueot vintages in stock," he said, trying to impress her. "Or maybe you'd prefer a glass of Umeshu?" He continued to stare at her, captivated by her beauty.

The moment he flashed a flirtatious smile, her heart raced like a horse galloping on a race track. He leaned towards her and whispered, "You know, something sweet for someone sweet," causing her cheeks to flush with a bright red hue, reminiscent of a freshly picked ripe strawberry. She couldn't explain why she felt so nervous around him all of a sudden, her heart pounding relentlessly against her chest as if it wanted to break free.

He watched her intently, his gaze unwavering as she averted her eyes and looked down. Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she fiddled with the gold Roger coin around her neck, a precious keepsake that Shanks had given her and Luffy when they were children.

He smiled at her and she looked up for a moment, smiling sheepishly as they locked eyes. Usopp clears his throat and says, "Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" He tells the waiter ordering the drinks, "Two beers. I usually have three, but…" He said,

"Water." Nami said looking at him.

„And a milk." Luffy interrupted, "Three beers and a milk. a water. And, uh, for madam?" Sanji asked, his gaze once again falling on [Y/n] looked up at him and blushed, "U-Um, I would strawberry lemonade and a cup of strawberries," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness. He smiled at her and said, "Right away." just as he left to walk towards the kitchen.

[Y/n] hid her face in her shirt while the other crew members chuckled, Luffy looked towards his older sister playfully. "Y/n's gotta boyfriend," He teasingly said to her. "S-Shut up!" She whispered shouted, elbowing him in the arm before, as the Sanji brought out her drinks. He smiled, at her as he placed the strawberry lemonade in front of her, along with the side of strawberries. Sending her a wink as he did so, her heart almost seemed to stop and her soul could've left her body.

"Y/n's gotta boy-" [Y/n] grabbed some meat on a stick, and shoved it into her brother's mouth silencing him.

[notiddygxthgf]

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias. 

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there. 

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view. 

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting. 

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment. 

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away. 

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly. 

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him. 

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly. 

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard. 

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather. 

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma. 

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back. 

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze. 

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated. 

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch. 

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it. 

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. 

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going. 

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?” 

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue. 

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter. 

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him. 

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content. 

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged. 

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back. 

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands. 

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away. 

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help. 

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead. 

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair. 

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him. 

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time. 

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats. 

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing. 

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over. 

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes. 

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. 

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji. 

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap. 

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act. 

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair. 

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m  sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear. 

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts. 

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters. 

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor. 

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno. 

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head. 

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good. 

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free. 

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips. 

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this. 

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm. 

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you. 

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth. 

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger. 

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door. 

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him. 

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess. 

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you. 

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life. 

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck. 

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that. 

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin. 

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster. 

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life. 

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back. 

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly. 

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition). 

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles. 

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized. 

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat. 

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood. 

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth. 

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer. 

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.  

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it. 

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss. 

You broke the silence after a minute or two. 

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down. 

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground. 

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades. 

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

[louloulemons-posts]

Metal Head Cuddles

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 1.7k

Warnings : not proofread, swears, shitty parents(reader), vecna stuff did happen, petnames, it’s just a load of fluff.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Meeting-hug :

Being Robins Buckleys cousin was great, moving in with her and her dad was also great. Your family wasn’t fantastic, but Robin and your uncle were.

“Are you sure it was okay for me to tag along? I could always go back and chill with Uncle Rich.”

“Come on Y/N, i know you wanna get out of it, but everyone will love you”.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m 100% sure, now come on let’s go in.” You were at Robins friends, Steve, house, apparently they’d become best friends a couple years back.

Working at an ice cream shop together, you’d had a job of your own when you lived in Chicago, it had allowed you to move to Hawkins and not look back. An old music shop that was getting more and more popular by the day.

Harringtons house was nice, Robin said his parents had a good job, but weren’t around a lot. There was music and laughter as you walked into the house.

“Don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” Robin linked your arms and you walked into the garden. “Buckley!” A voice called out as you left the house. “Harrington.”

A boy jogged up to you, floppy hair bouncing as he came. “Ah you must be Y/N, Robins said a lot about you. I’m Steve.”

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you.” He gave you a welcoming hug.

“I’ll get you guys a drink, beer?” he asked.

“Y/Ns driving,” Robin spoke.

“Lemonade?”

“Lemonades great thanks.”

“Come on let’s meet the others.” Your cousin waved over at some younger people. “Y/N, this is Dustin, Will, Mike, El, Lucas and Max.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Ahh so you’re Robins mystery cousin,” the curly haired boy said.

“The one and only,” you shrugged.

“It’s good to meet you anyways,” A red haired girl spoke, her eyes were glazed and you spotted a white cane, along with the hold she had on the boys arm beside her.

“And you guys.”

“Come on let’s meet the lovebirds.” Robin led you away to two teens who looked your age. “This is Nancy and Jonathan, guys this is my cousin Y/N.”

“Hey it’s great to meet you,” the girl spoke, standing to give you a squeeze.

“And you.”

“Where’s Munson?” Robin asked.

“Late as always,” Jonathan joked. On that note loud metal music was heard. “Speak of the devil,” Jonathan chuckled.

A few moments later a man with unruly hair came wandering in, his footsteps heavy and loud. He wore a large grin, dancing across his mouth as he took the younger curly haired boy hugged him.

The hug of a brother, Steve walked past, handing him a beer like it was a breath. He made his way over to us, handing me a cup full of lemonade and Robin her own bottle of booze.

“You been introduced to everyone?” Steve asked. “Pretty much, just not,” I motioned over to the man who was not letting out a cackle.

“Oh, hang on,” Steve paused for a second, because calling out the man’s name, “Eddie, come here man.” You heard him mutter something like, ‘Oh no already in trouble,’ to the younger kids, making them laugh.

He jogged over to us, taking a swig of his drink. “Hey guys,” he smiled, taking in everyone’s face when he finally landed on mine. His chocolate eyes met my gaze.

“Eddie this is Y/N, Robins cousin from Chicago,” Steve explained.

“Oh cool, nice to meet you,” he said, pulling you into a half hug.

You hand landed on his lower back in greeting as his kept his, respectfully on the middle of yours. “And you, Robins told me all about you guys,” I said to the group.

“Oh no, what’s she said?” Steve groaned.

“Nothing that isn’t true Dingus.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Random-Encounter Hug :

Pushing the cart through the aisle, I grabbed a couple veggies here and there, planning on making, yet another, thank you meal for Robin and my uncle.

After placing the tomato’s and peppers in the cart I looked back up, spotting a newly familiar figure. Grabbing the last few things I needed from this section I sped up, “Hey Eddie.”

The boy whirled round to look at me, “Y/N, hey, how are you?” He asked, instantly pulling me into a large hug, giving me a gentle squeeze.

“I’m good, just getting bits and pieces.”

“Same here, I’m want to make my uncle a nice meal for his birthday, but don’t tell anyone,” he leant down so he was closer to your ear, “I can’t really cook.”

Letting out a laugh, I smiled at the boy, “If you want I can help you?”

“You cook?”

“I do indeed, give me your number and we can figure out a recipe, go through everything step by step.”

“Really?”

“Sure, what does he like to eat?”

“Anything we eat out of cans a lot.”

“Does he like steak?”

“Sure.”

I motioned for him to follow me, pushing the cart and coming to a halt by the steaks and other various meat. Getting a small, cheap, but still a beautiful cut, I handed it to Eddie.

“Does he like mash potatoes?”

“Yeah.” I quickly grabbed some of them, and then some green beans. Eddie pulled a face at that, “Does he not like them?

“Oh he loves them, I do not,” his face scrunched.

“They’re not that bad I promise, cook them

in butter and seasoning.” The boy hummed, instantly trusting your words.

He stayed to help you with your own shopping, helping you take the bags to your car, holding his own. “Thank you for the help,” he said, “It was nice to see you again.”

“And you. Remember call me when you’re cooking, I’ll talk you through it all.” The boy gave you a smile, and pulled you into a sweet hug. Arms enclosing around your body, holding you close.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Exhaustion Hug :

You’d gone out for the day with Robin, Nancy, Steve, Jonathan and Eddie. Not sleeping well the night before after a screaming phone call from your mother, you were so tired.

“You okay?” Robin whispered.

“Oh yeah, just a bit sleepy. I’ll be fine.” You’d be on a long walk, wondering around shops, just having fun doing what people would consider mundane.

Eddie walked in front chatting away with Steve, Robin jumped into conversation with them, whilst Jonathan and Nancy led the group hand in hand.

Staying a few steps behind, you rubbed your eyes again. Not realising the group had stopped you bumped into Eddies back. “Shit sorry Eds.”

Turning to look at you, he smiled softly at your sleepy state. “It’s okay, you good?”

“Yeah just tired.” He nodded, humming, “Well we can’t have that can we.”

He turned back around and got low, “Hop on,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Get on my back.”

“Eddie no-“

“Y/N,” he said turning his face to you, “Please.” Well you couldn’t say no to that.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, Eddie stood, holding underneath your thighs. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” My face rested on his shoulder.

“Come on then, let go,” he walked with ease, as if he wasn’t carrying an extra weight. I felt so comfortable there, with him holding me, that my face nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Anything for you.”

…

“Oh he’s so into her,” Steve said, watching the boy carry the sleepy girl. “Him into her? You don’t understand how much she talks about him. I swear Eddie coming today is the only reason she’s here,” Robin laughed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Recharging Cuddles :

You don’t really know how it happened, but it was natural as anything. You and Eddie started dating, much to his Uncle Wayne’s joy.

Stood in the small kitchen in their new trailer, you were cooking a breakfast for Eddie and yourself, Wayne had already headed out for the day.

Feeling arms come around your waist and a face nuzzle into your neck, his curls tickled in their sleepy state. “Where did you go?” He said, voice laced with sleep.

“Making us breakfast Eds.”

“You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Sorry baby, I just wanted to make you something.”

“You’re too sweet,” he spoke, placing a sweet kiss under your ear. “It’s almost ready, why don’t you sit at the table?”

He whined, “Wanna stay with you.”

“Okay sleepy boy,” With a free hand you rubbed his own that connected around your waist.

“Thank you.”

“Never have to thank me baby.” The boy remained attached to you the rest of the time you cooked, sliding you onto his lap as you ate.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Reunion hugs :

It had been two whole weeks since you’d seen Eddie, yourself, Robin and your uncle had been on vacation. Not even thinking about unpacking you jumped in your car and drove over to Eddies.

The trailer park was hit with sun, bright days becoming more common, the people of Hawkins soaking in the rays.

That was including your favourite boy, of course wearing jeans, black and ripped and a tank top. Some of his scars were on display but the large ones that covered his torso were hidden by the material.

Parking up, you climbed out of the car with ease. “Hey you,” you called as you walked over to him. “Oh my god”, he laughed, pushing off the stairs of the trailer and running to you.

Without a second thought your feet were off the ground, arms around his neck, he lifted you up and held you close. “I missed you so fucking much.” Hands going to his hair, you giggled, “I missed you too baby.”

“Never go away again,” he mumbled into your neck.

“Where’s my hug miss?” you heard another voice speak. “Wayne,” I smiled Eddie let me hop down from his hold and walk over to the older man. He took he in his arms and gave me a squeeze.

“Thank goodness you’re back, I couldn’t deal with anymore moping from this boy,” he motioned to Eddie. “Wayne,” he whined, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling your back to his chest.

“But seriously never leave me again.”

“Don’t plan on it.” He kissed the top of your head, holding you tighter.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : well hello it’s been a while, life’s been kinda crazy lately, so writings been the last thing on my mind. Hopefully I’ll be back to it soon, but I’m not gonna push myself, hope you guys understand.

All the love 🤍

- Lou

[nariism]

itoshi sae doesn't think you're his type.

"i don't have a type," he insists. "what the hell does that even mean?"

it wouldn't be a problem if it was as simple as that: sae has always been more oblivious than others when it comes to feelings. especially romantic.

the problem is that rin is tired of watching the two of you do the awkward platonic dance, and that he's absolutely sick of seeing his brother — dead-inside, deadpan, sarcastic sae — melting into a puddle of goo everytime he sees you. hell, every time you so much as breathe in his direction.

"you like them."

"like them? what are we, fifth graders?"

"you're getting defensive, nii-chan..."

and if it were any other day, sae might have started sulking and grumbling to himself. but it's not any other day, because you're in the next room over pouring yourself a glass of juice (helping yourself, which he also expresses his dislike for but lets you take his lemonade without argument anyway).

"can you lower your voice, please?" sae hisses out in irritation, nearly falling off the couch as he leans over to cover up rin's loud mouth. "you're so annoying, you know that?"

it's teetering on exploding into a full on argument. neither rin nor sae are good at keeping their tempers under wraps. like an answer to rin's prayers, you walk into the room looking extremely confused.

"what's going on?" you snicker at them in amusement, placing down three cups of lemonade.

sae sits up straight with lightning speed, prying himself away from his younger brother and avoiding your eyes at all costs.

"nothing."

there it is again, much to rin's dismay: the ultra obvious mega crush sae has on you and fumbling over how to handle himself. to anyone else in the world, they might think he just needs to take a crap. unfortunately, rin spent his entire life studying his brother's expressions and knows that his constipated face is because of you.

"oh, sorry, i forgot to bring napkins."

the second you're out of earshot, sae glowers at rin so intensely that the younger brother has no choice but to snap his mouth shut.

"don't even start."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Don’t Drink- Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky comforts crying reader when Tony goes too far

Word count: 955

TW: discussions of alcoholism, self harm and neglectful family

Most of the night you had been lively, energetic and maybe even a little flirty with a certain brunette super soldier, but when that question came out of Tony’s mouth, in front of every one, you couldn’t help shrink into yourself.

You are by no means a shy person, I mean sometimes you can be closed off but you’re happy to talk to anyone, which is what you had been doing.

The typical Stark party was starting to wind down and you and your friends had found a couch and were happily talking. You sat sipping your lemonade, now Nat was no longer manning the bar, her amazing mocktails were off the menu. You were both listening and talking to your friends, and everything was going great. Until that damn question rung loud across your friends, and cutting you to the core.

“Well why doesn’t y/n drink?” Tony shouted drunkly, causing everyone to stop their conversations and stare between you and he.

The tension in the room suddenly became thick as some of your friends looked at you with worrying looks, and some glaring at Tony. You didn’t blame Tony, and if he’d just accepted the excuse you gave it would have been fine. He didn’t know about your dad or your family, only a few of the team did, but he didn’t have to push.

“I mean come on, it’s a party, we’re all drinking and having a good time, maybe a few drinks might loosen you up a bit. Maybe if you had a drink or two, you might even get lucky,” Tony winked at you.

This got people annoyed.

“Come on, Tony, that’s enough,” Steve said, both he and Rhodey trying to usher him away, while Natasha held your hand and Bucky looked at you with sweet eyes.

“Well why doesn’t she?” He shouted, refusing to leave and demanding an answer like a child.

This confrontation had flooded you with shame and embarrassment, but now as you stared into his stupid drunk eyes, all you felt was rage.

“Maybe because unlike you, I don’t want to turn into an asshole like my dad! Maybe because if I drink I might cut myself like my mum used to! Maybe I don’t drink because I don’t want to turn into a pathetic alcoholic like you or my shitty fucking dad!” You shouted back at the man, your skin hot, chest heaving and tears began to fill your eyes.

All humour had left Tony’s eyes at your confession and he hung his head in shame, while attempting a weak apology. Not wanting to hear it or hear the pity of your friends, you stormed off. It had been a lovely night, but of course, Tony had to ruin it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Natasha growled at Tony as your friends watched you storm away.

As Maria and Yelena came over to calm Nat, Bucky made his way for the door you left from.

It didn’t take long for him to find you, following the aching sounds of your crying. The sound of your upset hurt him, but as he saw you sitting on the corridor floor, his heart absolutely shattered.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky gently sighed as he bent down to be face to face with you.

Raising your head from your hands revealed a makeup stained face and blood shot eyes, the sight destroying Bucky even further.

Not wanting any pity from anyone, you tried to stand to leave, but Bucky was faster. He sat down on the floor and dragged you into his lap, holding you so you couldn’t leave and be alone with this feeling.

“I’m here, it’s okay,” he whispered sweetly against your hair, kissing your forehead as he gently rocked you in his arms.

With one hand on your thigh and the other around your arm, he held and rocked you until your heavy cries became light sniffles. Raising your head, you looked into his sweet blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, James, I-I shouldn’t have made such a scene like that,” you quietly apologised with a shaky and rough voice. You looked down to your lap in shame as you pull away from his chest.

The fact you thought you had to apologise for this cut Bucky to his very core, realising what not just HYDRA but your parents must have done to make you feel like such a burden.

“You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart,” he gently comforted as he tucked pieces of hair behind your ear and he wiped some of the makeup from your face.

“Tony is a dick, and shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m honestly glad you told him off, and crying is nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued to comfort.

Holding your cheek in his hand, he stared lovingly into your eyes as he slowly leaned down. Your lips met in a gentle and sweet kiss, one full of comfort, but not pity, full of love and honest feelings.

As the sweet kiss parted, you couldn’t help the light smile that graced your lips.

“There’s my girl,” Bucky whispered sweetly to you.

“Your girl?” You asked hopefully, your smile widen and light returning to your eyes.

“My girl,” Bucky confirmed, “my girl who never has to apologise for her feelings and who I will hold and listen to whenever she needs.”

“Your girl, my James,” you smiled up at him, your hands now resting on his chest.

Hearing you say that you were his and he was yours, filled Buckys heart with so much love, he thought he might explode. A large toothy smile graced his gorgeous face, as he pressed you against his strong chest in a sweet embrace.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Going to the food festival because she's a foodie. And their son, Jack got roped together. Toto was loving every second of it. Fluff and cute. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

Hii guys, I hope you enjoy this request :)

The crisp air of the farmer's market fills your lungs as you inhale deeply, savouring the sweet, earthy scents of fresh produce, baked goods, and flowers all around. It's a rare, precious moment—one of those idyllic weekends where everything feels just right. The gentle hum of conversations mingles with the distant laughter of children playing nearby, and you can't help but smile as you walk hand in hand with Toto and Jack.

You glance over at the apples on display, their shiny red and green skins practically glowing under the soft morning sunlight. "These look perfect for a pie," you say, your excitement bubbling over. "What do you think, should we get a few?"

Toto squeezes your hand and smiles warmly at you, his blue eyes twinkling. "Ja, mein Liebling," he agrees in his rich accent. "They look delicious. A pie sounds like a wonderful idea. And you know how much Jack loves your baking."

Jack, holding Toto’s other hand, bounces on his feet with excitement. "Yes, yes! Apple pie! And can we get some chocolate too?" He looks up at you with those big, pleading eyes, making it impossible to resist his request.

You chuckle softly, ruffling his hair. "Alright, chocolate it is," you say, watching as Jack immediately tugs Toto towards the sweets stall with all the eagerness of a child let loose in a candy store.

As you walk over to the sweets stall, Toto keeps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "I love days like this," he murmurs softly in your ear. "Just you, me, and Jack—no racing, no stress. It's perfect."

You lean into his side, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "I love it too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with happiness. "I wish we could do this more often."

Toto kisses the top of your head gently before the two of you reach the stall. Jack is already there, eyes wide and mouth open as he gazes at the array of chocolates on display. "Look, Mama! They have chocolate with nuts, caramel, and even chili!" he exclaims, pointing excitedly.

"Alright, little man," Toto says with a laugh, kneeling down to Jack's level. "You can pick two. One for now and one to share with Mama and Papa later, okay?"

Jack nods enthusiastically and carefully selects a bar of milk chocolate with almonds and another with dark chocolate and sea salt. You can't help but grin at his thoughtful choices—just like Toto, he has an excellent palate for flavours.

With your treats in hand, you stroll through the market a bit more, enjoying the sights and sounds. The sun is getting higher now, and you notice your stomach rumbling a bit. "How about we grab some food for lunch?" you suggest. "I saw a stall over there with fresh sandwiches and salads. We could have a little picnic at one of the tables by the park."

"Sounds great, mein Schatz," Toto agrees, his eyes warm as he looks down at you. "What do you think, Jack?"

"Yes! I'm starving!" Jack exclaims, rubbing his tummy dramatically.

You laugh and lead the way over to the food stall, picking out a selection of delicious sandwiches, fresh fruit, and some sparkling lemonade. The three of you find a cozy spot at one of the picnic tables under a large oak tree. The leaves rustle gently in the breeze, casting playful shadows over the table as you unpack your lunch.

Jack digs into his sandwich, and you can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. You take a sip of lemonade, savouring its crisp, refreshing taste. "This is perfect," you say softly, looking over at Toto. "I can't remember the last time we had a day like this."

Toto reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. "I know," he says, his voice low and tender. "I’m so glad we have today. I love spending time with you and Jack like this. It reminds me of what’s really important."

Your heart swells with love as you squeeze his hand, feeling the connection between you as strong as ever. "I love you," you say softly, your eyes locked with his.

"I love you too," Toto replies, leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips.

Jack looks up from his sandwich, noticing the kiss, and giggles. "Ew, Mama, Papa, not at the picnic!" he teases, though his eyes are sparkling with happiness.

You and Toto both laugh, and you give Jack a playful nudge. "Oh, come on, you love it," you say, making him laugh even harder.

As you finish your lunch, you take out the chocolate Jack chose earlier and break it into pieces to share. The three of you enjoy the rich, sweet treat, and you can't help but feel grateful for this perfect moment with your little family.

After lunch, you decide to explore the rest of the market, hand in hand with Toto, with Jack skipping ahead excitedly. You stop to admire the handmade crafts, sample some fresh jams, and even watch a street performer juggle with flaming torches.

As the day slowly winds down, you find yourselves back at the fruit stall where it all began. The sun is starting to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. You look over at Toto, who has his arm wrapped around you, and smile.

"This has been such a wonderful day," you say softly, leaning into his side.

"It really has," Toto agrees, his voice filled with contentment. "I’m so glad we came here today. Just being with you and Jack… it’s everything to me."

You nod, "Me too," you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

As you gather your bags and start to head home, Jack takes both your hands and swings between you and Toto, giggling happily. You smile, knowing that today will be a memory you’ll cherish forever—a perfect day spent with the two people you love most in the world.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Video Game

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), swearing, brief spanking, hand job, cum swallowing

Word Count: 1.4k

You test Johnny’s concentration while on a game with the boys.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // summer 2024 masterlist

The ceiling fan turns slowly.

You lay on your back, staring up at it, wishing that it had a faster speed. There is a slight stickiness to your skin from the humidity. It’s too early for a shower. You’ll only become gross again, and there’s no point in wasting water.

Sighing, you roll out of bed and head toward the kitchen, seeking a cold drink.

“They’re over there. Yeah. Up top.”

Johnny’s on a game. It’s amusing to you how he comes home from work only to play video games of the same vein. It’s his whole life even when at rest.

Pouring a lemonade for yourself, you causally stroll into the living room. Placing your drink on the side table, you settle into the couch next to him, tucking your feet under you. Johnny briefly glances at you, giving you his best smile before returning his attention to the game.

You watch for a bit. Listen. He usually plays with Kyle and Simon, two men you’ve only met briefly but know Johnny works with on a regular basis.

You place your hand on Johnny’s large, muscled thigh. The corner of his mouth quirks when you touch him but he doesn’t glance at you. His eyes are on the screen and his fingers are a whirlwind across the controller.

Squeezing his thigh, you settle closer to him.

“I’m not taking an L, Lt,” he says into the mic, his focus intense.

Your gaze falls to the timer on the screen. There are seconds left, and it’s clear they’re losing.

The timer goes off. Flashes. And then red lettering appears across the screen, showing Johnny’s loss. A bunch of stats appear that mean nothing to you, and then a little montage follows it.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he mutters at no one in particular.

You pat his thigh and he reaches out to squeeze your hand.

“We can’t go out on a loss,” he says. “Another round.”

Johnny glances in your direction and you smile at him, nodding. Another game isn’t a big deal. He could play several more and you really wouldn’t care. On summer evenings like this, sitting next to Johnny on the sofa is nice.

Johnny queues up another game and you decide right then that you’d like to see if he can really go out on a win.

“This is it. Last one,” says Johnny as the screen changes, his avatar operator dropping from the sky and onto a building.

You rub your hand over his thigh again, moving closer to his groin with every pass. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he’s not showing it. Gently, you slide down to his inner thigh, squeezing him just beside the prize you’ll eventually seek.

This snags his attention.

Johnny shoots you a quick, cheeky grin before returning his focus to the screen. It’s not enough for him to lose concentration, and from what you can tell, his team is winning. It’s too bad you might shake the potential win out from under him.

Slowly, you lean forward, shifting slightly to slide to your knees next to him. Johnny’s gaze darts from you to the screen and then back again like he’s trying to figure you out without completely tearing his attention away.

He’s shirtless right now, still a little glossy with sweat from his workout. Johnny has that delicious, masculine scent that clings to him. The one that always makes you feral when he walks through the door after hard labor. His gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, and the outline of his cock is apparent.

You adjust on your knees, settling yourself between his spread legs, hands on his thighs. With back bent slightly, you go under the controller. Johnny’s gaze drops to you and then back to the screen. Keeping the controller in one hand, Johnny gently cups the side of your face before returning it to the controller.

“What are you doing?” he whispers. His gaze narrows. Glancing up, he swears. “Fuck. Bastard’s on my tail.”

Your fingers curl around the band of his sweatpants. They’re already so low. All it needs is a small tug and then you can take Johnny in hand.

Johnny reaches out again, this time grasping the side of your neck. A warning, and one you completely ignore.

His hand disappears and you slide the band down just enough to wrap your hand around him. Johnny stifles a groan and continues on like you’re doing nothing at all. With his headset on, you cannot hear what’s happening on the television. You cannot see anything either, which means you don’t know how long you have.

Can you get him off before the game is done? Or are you wasting time?

Better to be aggressive. Make this a competition. Test Johnny’s resolve.

You squeeze gently and slide up, the pad of your thumb stroking over the underside of the head. Johnny squirms but says nothing to you. He doesn’t even glance down. You won’t go all in just yet. It’s good to tease first. Make him writhe a bit.

With another stroke of your hand, you lightly run your tongue across the head, the tip parting the small slit. Johnny’s hips twitch and his jaw clenches, but he remains focused. It’s not enough, which means you need to do more.

Running your tongue over the head again, you use your hold on Johnny’s cock to slide his cock across your tongue, in and out of your mouth without closing around him. His nostrils flare as he aggressively smashes the buttons on the controller.

This time you close your lips around him, sucking hard on the head.

Johnny groans loudly and then coughs. “I’m good,” he breathes, talking to someone in his headset. “Close call.”

You smile inwardly, and hold this position, allowing your saliva to collect while also stroking him with your hand. Johnny’s gaze darts downward and pauses. His fingers freeze on the controller.

You stare into his eyes and then throat him entirely, stopping when your lips meet your hand. Johnny’s eyelids flutter, and his lips part. Repeating the motion has him falling back against the sofa. His bare chest heaves as his fingers begin moving across the controller again. There is a slowness though. A sluggishness.

In his eyes you see the haze forming. Johnny’s concentration is slipping even as he desperately clings to control. This is your chance to seize this win from him.

Shifting your hand away from the base of his cock, you slide beneath the band of his sweatpants to cup his balls. Squeezing gently, you take him entirely into your mouth, lips almost meeting his pelvis.

You set a pace, making sure to breath through your nose. Johnny is all grunts. He’s hardly speaking into the mic anymore.

This tastes of victory.

Other than Johnny’s grunts, you can hear the click of the buttons on the controller. He’s still trying to focus, even as you feel him swelling in your palm. He’s fucking close, and you’re going to take all of it.

Hollowing your cheeks, you slide up, swirling your tongue around the head.

“Fuck,” groans Johnny, elongating the vowel.

There is a pause—an absence of clicking buttons—and you go for another pass.

Johnny chokes, grabs the back of your head, and draws you flush against him. His cheeks are flushed, mouth open slightly, gaze focused on your face. In his other hand is the controller. He’s hardly holding on to it, one side aimed directly toward the ground.

His flavor explodes on your tongue, and you drink him down. Johnny’s hold on the back of your head eases, and you slowly slide off him, revealing your empty mouth to him. The corner of his mouth twitches, and the smirk on his face startles you.

It’s self-satisfied, as if he meant for all this to happen.

Johnny laughs, gaze returning to the television screen. “Great win. Same time tomorrow?” Johnny chuckles. “Fuck off. Both of you.”

He tears off his headset and tosses it to the side. You turn around and notice the bright green lettering above the stats.

They won.

Johnny grabs your chin and guides your gaze back to him. “That was naughty.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and your tongue darts out for a taste.

“Fucking hell, love,” mutters Johnny. “Come here.” He draws you into his lap, claiming your mouth in a fierce kiss.

Johnny’s hands fall to your ass, he squeezes, and then comes down with a sharp slap to your ass. You yelp, but it’s smothered by Johnny’s mouth on yours.

“Bedroom,” he growls. “Now.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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@vrb8im @spookyscaryspoon @eternallyvenus @ash-tarte @jackrabbitem

[theodorecanaryhood]

Protective, possessive and Passionate

Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Warning: swearing, drinking and sex

It was no secret that your boyfriend, Jason, is extremely protective of you. He likes to make sure you’re safe, even if he is in the line of fire, he also wants you to always remember that you’re his.

‘See how that looks’ Jason turned your face a little so you could see clearly the red mark on your neck.

Jason always marked his territory for other men to see, for them to know you’re off limits.

Jason drove you to work, holding your hand in his, you never complained and always thought it cute. A guy as big as Jason, to be so needy and like a puppy at times.

‘Have a great day, love you’ Jason spoke softly as he kissed you.

‘Bye, love you too’ you replied as you got out of the car.

Your work day was filled with the usual nonsense that entails. Making you spend all of your working hours wishing for some sleep.

Everyone has that part of the day that they dread, yours happened to be a coworker. Adam. He never left the fact he likes you hidden.

‘Hey, how was your weekend?’ He asked, smiling at you.

‘Hey, it was fine. Had dinner with my boyfriend’s family. Yours?’ You asked to be polite, not really caring about the answer.

Adam knew that you have a boyfriend, but he never seemed to care. He still tried to get it on with you.

He’d worked there for about a year now and still took every chance he could, as it was coming up to the office work party, you prayed that Jason could make it.

Perhaps the size of Jason would make Adam back off, Jason is big dude and can be pretty scary at times.

Jason held onto your thigh as you both watched Netflix, the newest show you both thought to watch sucked you right in.

‘Shall we go to bed?’ Jason asked as the credits began to roll, you sleepily nodded.

Getting into bed with Jason was always something amazing, he would hold onto you so tight.

The huge puppy that is Jason liked to hold onto you all night. Never letting you out of his sight, or his grip.

You hadn’t let it bother you too much, you were just thankful that Jason was able to come with you. Protect from the lustful eyes of Adam.

Jason knelt onto the floor as he found your shoe laces were coming undone.

‘Hey lovebirds’ your work-bestie, Naomi, smiled as she greeted you both.

Giving you both a hug and a kiss in the cheek, you placed your hand on Naomi’s small baby bump.

‘Not long to go now’ you chuckled as she smiled, lifting her top to show off her new accessory.

The three of you walked into the building together as you found it dimly lit, music playing and a bartender on site already.

‘Thank God, I need a drink’ Jason stated as he made a beeline for the bar.

‘Can I get two whiskeys please? And a lemonade?’ Jason winked as Naomi rolled her eyes with a small smile.

‘Oh fuck’ the words fell out of your mouth like vinegar.

Naomi stroked your arm gently as she blocked you from Adam’s sight.

Jason was aware of what this coworker was doing, but he didn’t know what he looked like. Or if he was coming.

‘Oh hey you, how’s it going?’ Adam cheered as he saw you standing with Naomi.

You smiled as Adam leant towards you, seemingly unaware of the 6ft plus giant next to you both.

‘Another coworker?’ Jason asked curiously, you nodded. Hesitating the next few words.

‘This is Adam’ you took Jason’s hand in yours as you saw his face switch.

The three of you tried your best to stay away from him, but Adam always ended up near you somehow.

‘Hey babe, gotta get going home or I won’t want to get up ever again’ Naomi smiled softly as she gave you a hug.

‘You two rest up’ you winked as Naomi left, all the while with Jason in the bathroom.

This left you alone for a few minutes which you would find scary. You had mental words with yourself, Adam is only a man, nothing more. But he still bothered you.

‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ Adam asked as he came and sat next to you.

You pointed to the bathroom door, Adam only edged closer to you.

You shifted a little in your seat as you felt Adam get closer to you, his body heat felt like it was setting you on fire.

‘You know, four years is a long time to be with one person. Maybe you should have a little break from him. I could show you a good time’ Adam spoke as you felt disgusted.

His words were like venom and you could feel yourself getting close to doing something you’d get into trouble for later.

‘Come on y/n, let’s have some fun while your man isn’t here. He’s a wimp who doesn’t deserve you’ Adam continued.

The smell of Whiskey was strong from Adam’s breath, he’d been drinking tons and not seeming to stop. Though, him drinking didn’t make a difference as he was like this sober.

Before you could say anything in response there was a giant hand that had taken hold of Adam’s shirt collar.

‘Don’t touch my boyfriend again, don’t even look at him. You disrespect him like that, you get me to deal with and I can assure you, you don’t want that’ Jason growled lowly in Adam’s ear.

You could tell from Adam’s face that he was regretting his words, the tower that is Jason was now in his face. Eyes looking deep into his soul.

It was a success as Adam had finally got the message, but Jason was still angry.

Needing to blow off some steam, Jason drove you both home. Jason threw you on the bed when you both got in. Practically lifting you off your feet and carrying you there.

‘Get in all fours for me baby’ Jason said, anger still present but he spoke with love towards you.

Jason wasn’t angry with you, he never could bring himself to be. He was angry that another guy had the audacity to try it with you.

‘Uh’ you called out as Jason slid his length into you, your eyes rolled back.

‘Who does this belong to?’ Jason asked, as he began to find a rhythm.

‘You, Jason. I’m all yours’ you called out, Jason smiled as he gave your asscheek a good slap.

Your phone lit up as it rested next to you in the bed. Jason checked to see it was Snapchat.

Snap from Adam.25 was all it said, Jason smiled to himself as he punched in your code to unlock the phone.

Still with his huge dick deep inside your ass, you were too busy moaning in pleasure to notice what was going on.

Jason snapped you on all fours as Jason hit it from behind, your fingers gripping onto the pillows, you biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out moans.

‘He busy, text back later’ Jason typed into the phone with one hand, clicking send.

Then tossing your phone back where it was as he slammed deeper into you.

‘Fuck, Jason’ you called out as Jason got even deeper.

Safe to say Adam got the message and never tried anything in with you again, he also got a word from HR after a sexual harassment complaint was logged.

You were thankful that Jason could be so Protective, Possessive and also how passionate he is. You would’ve preferred for Jason to not make a statement with you on all fours. But it worked.

You smiled as you fell asleep on Jason’s chest that night, him holding you as he buried himself into a new book.

[cattordi]

a/n part 2 to what i wrote the other day!! glad u guys enjoyed the other

summary two weeks later, it’s memorial day and your parents throw a party. they invite all your friends and family but unexpected guest shows up.

pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader

warnings smut, fluff, breeding, praise, not proofread, face fucking, choking, jealous!reader,foul language, orgasm denial, arguing, sir kink, rough sex, etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

part 1

pretty girl

you never thought you’d be more uncomfortable around your family, mainly your brother, than you were when bucky barnes walked in.

it’s been 2 weeks since the car debacle and you haven’t spoken since. until now, “it’s good to see you y/n.” he says absentmindedly.

you force yourself to not roll your eyes and instead give a small smile, “bucky i never got to thank you for helping my girl out the other night.” your dad says and you almost spit out your lemonade.

“no need to thank me. if y/n calls i come.” he says in the smoothest way possible, you wouldn’t suspect anything happened.

more of your family begin to arrive as the day sets in and you couldn’t be more happier.

well yeah you could be, if the most beautiful man you ever saw wasn’t burning a hole in the back of your head.

you could literally feel his gaze as you talk to your cousins by the man made fire pit.

though you couldn’t lie, you’d thought about bucky. a lot more than you’d let on. the feeling of him inside you made you wet just at the thought.

squeezing your legs together, you finally look at bucky and he’s smiling, but not at you.

at your cousin.

jealousy filled you as you took another sip of your drink and set the glass down a bit louder than you intended. “y/n, you good?” your brother ask when the sound of the glass hitting the table; catches his attention.

“i’m fine.” you say in a way so he doesn’t ask anymore questions. “just fine.”

with that, you get up and walk inside; not before sending a look buckys way that your cousin just barely missed.

you hated that he made you feel things. mentally and physically. “what have i gotten myself into?” you say as you walk into the kitchen in search of ice.

“me.” a stern voice says from behind you and you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. “y/n, are you jealous?”

“over you? no. i’m enthralled.” you begin while filling your cup with ice. a warm body comes up behind you, “lose the attitude.”

“i don’t have an attitude, i’m really en-“ you begin but his hand snakes up your chest and to your throat, “that mouth in you is gonna get you in a world of trouble with me, babydoll.”

pleasurable tears brim your eyes as his lips meet you neck. “i’ve missed you and i know you missed me.”

“in your dreams.” is all you can mutter out before you’re bent over the counter.

“what’d i tell you about that mouth?” he ask, with his grip tightening on your neck. “maybe i should put it to better use?”

nodding your head quickly, he looks around the kitchen before placing his hand under your dress and finding your uncovered pussy, dripping.

“no panties… and you’re already so wet for me.”

“yes sir.” you say and he smiles like an idiot. “oou i like that. so tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty face of yours?”

rubbing your legs together between his hand you nod before a harsh smack is landed on your ass. “words baby. i want words.”

“yes sir, i want you to fuck my face.”

with that, he releases your throat and pushes you towards the floor. when you’re done undoing his jeans, his dick springs out at you: hard and leaking precum.

“open up darling.” he groans. as you begin opening your mouth, he plunges his length into your mouth. more tears fill your eyes as he begins thrusting into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat everytime.

his dick is so long and wide that only half of it fits in your mouth. “y/n your mouth feels so fucking good. so good.”

his movements get faster and faster. “you’re such a good slut.“ he praises and that makes you even more wet. “i’m getting close darling. don’t move.”

he slows his thrust down before removing him from your mouth. looking up at him, your makeup ruined, you pout. “you were close, why’d you stop?”

“because i’m not coming unless i’m in that tight pussy so get up.” roughly, he pulls you up and bends you over the counter again.

he bends down behind you and you can immediately feel his hot breath on your slit. “don’t move or make a sound. you cum when i tell you too. you wouldn’t want everyone outside to hear you getting fucked like a slut.”

“yes si-“ but before you can get the rest of yours words out, his mouth is on your clit, sucking and licking on you every which way.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck.” you whisper to yourself as his tongue gets faster. your knuckles are beginning to turn white as you grip the counter.

very soft moans fill the kitchen as bucky continues to eat u like a starved man. “i’m so close.” you moan and bucky slows down.

“hold it darlin.” he says while moving his head which makes his stubble run against clit. “you taste so good.”

he continues fucking you with his mouth even when you tell him you have to come. “hold it.” is his only reply.

“buck i’m gon-“ you begin but before you finish your sentence he rips his mouth from you. “holy shit darling if you have to come so bad, i wanna hear you beg for it.”

his mouth is back on you before you can reply and you let out a gasp. “can i please please please come?”

“no.” he hums on your clit. you let out a much louder moan which is rewarded with a slap to your thigh. “didnt i say don’t make a sound?”

“yes sir.” you moan out. “can i come now please sir, please.”

“hmm, come on my mouth sweet girl.”

with that, you come in his mouth with moans that are quickly hushed by his hand. “sweetheart you taste so fucking good. so good.” he says all while lapping up all the wetness rolling down your thighs.

while coming down from your high you can feel buckys hands on your waist, positioning himself inside of you. “i’m only gonna remind you one more time, don’t make a sound and don’t move. if you do so, i’m gonna have to bend you over and spank your perfect little ass.”

before you can respond, he’s pushing into you with all his force. you moan into your hand as he begins fucking you so hard every thrust moves you across the counter.

“you’re so tight darling.” he groans, “but you feel so fucking good.” his hips snap into your ass repeatedly.

“i’m getting so close buck.” you moan as his hand snakes around the front of your body to rub your clit; adding fuel to the fire.

he pulls you into his chest making him hit a different angle with every thrust, “oh fuck right there.”

“sweetheart i feel you squeezin’ me so well.” he moans slowing does his thrust.

“i’m gonna come bucky.”

“come for me sweetheart.” he says and you do.

you throw your head back at the feeling of you milking his cock. your moans get louder and louder by the second, causing him to cover your mouth and land a smack to your ass again.

the feeling of the smack makes you tighten around him again. “oh my goodness, you’re so fucking tight. making me come.” he groans as he fills you with his cum.

the warmth you feel inside is like no other as he continues to fuck through his orgasm and your own.

once you’re both down form your high, he slowly removes himself from you and gives one more slap to your ass.

nervousness takes over your features as you guys pull yourselves together. “what’s wrong sweetheart?” he ask and you shake your head.

his calm facial expression turns stern quickly, “what’s wrong?”

“this can’t happen again. my brother would murder you if he found out and my parents would disown me.” you say.

“sweetheart we’re both adults, so who says we can’t do this.”

“i thought it was common knowledge. but whatever, just know this can’t happen again.” you say and quickly head back outside. “make sure not to wait like 10 minutes before going back outside.”

no matter how much you say it’s not gonna happen again, we all know it will.

[n1ghtfurys]

Cream

I saw this idea on tiktok and I don't know where I found it but I had to do something with it so if anyone knows who posted the original idea please tell me so I can credit them :)

Second part

Keegan being flirty↓

You hated parties, always have, always will but your roommate, and best friend, loves them. She has one almost every week, sometimes it's university friends, sometimes work friends but this time it's a party for all of the people in your building.

You hate it, it's loud and annoying and people keep trying your locked door. Probably so they can come and hook up on your bed, fucking animals. It's not even like you dislike the people in your building, you just hate parties.

It's moments like these that make you curse your minimum wage job, if only you could have a mini fridge. You wouldn't have to go out there to get the lemonade you so desperately wanted. You've been arguing with yourself over it for a good twenty minutes.

You tried texting your roommate, then calling but she's probably borderline dry humping some guy in the middle of your living room right now. You kind of respect her ability to do that, envy it sometimes. And anyway, you'll probably hear about this guy's sexual skills tomorrow over lunch.

When you finally come to the conclusion that you're doomed to have to leave the sanctuary of your bedroom, you reluctantly open the door. The noise is worse out here. It's shitty club music and the bass is so hard that the cups on the table near the speaker are shaking. Like you expected, your roommate has her tongue down someone's throat, the girl from the floor above actually. She has short brown hair and so far, in your three years of living here you haven't seen her not in a flannel. Upon a quick look around you find that most of your younger neighbours are here.

You almost drop your phone when your eyes land on Keegan. Not only is he so rarely home, because of deployment, you also never took him as a party goer. Equally you find him incredibly attractive and have made a consistent fool of yourself around him, he's always friendly but you assume that's because your best friend is hot and also a bit of a psycho. The last time you saw him, you walked into the door of the lift and your friend simply told him that she knew where he lived, he grinned but nodded and kept his laughter to a minimum or at least he tried to.

You turn so quickly that you walk straight into the boy who lives across the hall from you. He's sweet really, you apologise and hope that Keegan didn't see that because that would be yet another time you made a fool out of yourself, and in your own house. God all you wanted was lemonade.

You look down at the floor and try not to come off as embarrassed as you feel, you just want to get back to your room as fast as you can. When you finally make it to the fridge you grab the lemonade but notice that you've still got left over whipped cream. Your roommate convinced you to get some the last time you went shopping, you can't really remember why but it's there now.

You can't resist it, so you tilt your head back and squirt some into your mouth. As you go to replace the cream you're stopped by a voice, a voice you can place immediately. One that makes your knees weak.

“Got any left?” Keegan looks down at you, his mask concealing all but his steely blue eyes.

“Um what?” You heard what he said but you're frozen and it's like your brain has gone into low power mode.

“Whipped cream.” He clarifies, looking between you and the canister. You stare at him, you probably look like such an idiot.

“You want some?” You ask as if you don't know, as if it's not incredibly obvious.

“Yeah, just squirt some in my mouth.” You try to ignore how dirty that sounded and also try to stop your mind from drifting to how he would sound saying other things.

He pulls his mask up just over his nose. “Um okay?” You reach up but the angle is awkward, you haven't really processed how much taller than you he actually is. “Sorry you can just…um.” You hold the whipped cream out for him but he shakes his head.

You give him a confused look and he lowers himself onto his knees in front of you opening his mouth.

You stare down at him utterly bewildered, a smirk plays on his lips as he looks at your expression.

“Better?”

You stare, glued to the spot and completely frozen for a moment before you come back to reality and conscious thought.

“Um yeah..”

He opens his mouth again and you press down on the nozzle until the cream fills his mouth. You try desperately to keep your thoughts from wondering. You hope he doesn't know how much that affected you but the flush on your cheeks probably does nothing to hide it.

“Thanks princess.” He smirks as he gets up and rolls his mask back over his lips. You take a moment before putting the whipped cream back just to regain your motor control.

The image of him on the floor in front of you with a mouth full of whipped cream will be burned into your retinas for the rest of your life and did he just call you princess? Fuck, now you needed to go back to your room but for a whole different reason.

[noproofread]

Diamond to the Sun

"I held a diamond to the sun to count the moments on account of the way you smile for me"

HELLOO I WROTE AND IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF LOL. writing is hard but it's been a minute since i've written for sanji so here we are :D

Sanji x gn!reader

Fluff. Mild angst. Praise lol. Pet names :).Reader is emotionally unavailable, or so they think. Sanji is determined to break down their walls. Sanji's just a regular loverboy <3

tag list: @vangowithit @fanaticsnail @dakingsu-blog

word count: 1,018

masterlist here

He loved watching you.

Admiring you.

Every time you smiled he felt his heart jump. He felt weightless at the sound of your laugh. You knew this well, and you had made it clear to him that you didn’t do “love.” You didn’t do relationships. You didn’t believe in it. Sanji didn’t care. He would gladly pine for you even if you didn’t return his affections. You would wake up to breakfast in bed, little notes with beautiful words about you.

“I don’t need to see the sun as long as you’re here.”

“The world is in slow motion whenever you smile for me.”

You would be lying if you didn’t feel flattered. Sanji practically worshiped the ground you walked on. It was cute. You had never experienced someone devote so much love to you. You had grown accustomed to people using you to get their rocks off and leave you. You never had any good experiences so you gave up on everything. You closed yourself off for good. And yet here he was. The blond, charismatic, flirty chef dropping everything to be at your beck and call.

You sat out on the deck, admiring the way the waves crashed against the ship. Droplets of salt water spraying onto your skin, cooling you down as the sun beamed at its highest point. You felt him looking at you. You smiled to yourself, unsure if you smiled because you liked having his attention or because it was cute to see him so powerless in front of you.

“Sanji” you called out to him. He sprinted in your direction as quickly as he could. “Yes, my diamond?” Diamond. His nickname for you. You smiled at him. “Can you get me some lemonade with lots of ice? I feel like I’m cooking in this heat.” You said with a wink. The cook blushed bright red and nodded before heading off to the kitchen as if nothing else mattered but your request.

When he returned with your beverage he stood there for a moment, watching you drink it. Seeing how your lips wrapped around the straw he so carefully chose for you. How your eyes closed as you savored the sweet citrusy flavors that he curated for you. How pretty you looked under the bright light of the sun. How your skin glistened with sweat and droplets of water. He was completely infatuated. You picked up a cube of ice with the straw and maneuvered it into your mouth to chew on it.

“Sanji, are you okay?” You asked after a few moments. He suddenly kneeled down in front of you. Looking up at you as if you were his entire world. It was sweet. You were surprisingly nervous. He had never really looked at you like that. Nobody had ever looked at you like that. It was an odd feeling. You had gotten so used to feeling mostly nothing, at least when it came to people showing interest in you. They never cared so why should you? But Sanji was different. His eyes were different.

“I just want you to know how much I adore you, my diamond. You may not believe in love but I have enough love for the both of us.” “Sanji-” “I would do anything for you. If the gods are real I would gladly let them go for you. I would fight them for you. I would die for you.” He continued. You knelt down to his level, a small smile on your face as you moved some of his hair out of the way.

"You sweet sweet thing.” You kissed his cheek. He blushed. He grabbed your hand, using it to caress his own cheek. Feeling how soft your fingers felt against his skin. You gasped, feeling your own heart flutter at the intimate action. You smiled affectionately. You did care for him. “Thank you for your lovely words, Sanji. I appreciate them more than you know. I just-” You hesitated for a moment. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He stood, taking your hands in the process to help you up. You met his eyes. His kind, doting eyes. If anyone was going to break your walls, it would be him.

“I know it will take a long time, but I will always be here.” He grinned. You barely noticed his thumb tracing circles on your hand. Sanji looked into your eyes. It felt like he saw you. Like he really saw you. As if he already knew your past, your traumas, your fears, your regrets. You felt almost vulnerable in his gaze. He only knew what you had told him. And yet it was like he had known you forever. Something you were unfamiliar with. An exciting feeling. You laughed softly. “Thank you, Sanji. My blonde prince. Thank you for being patient with me.” You felt his hands tense at the word “prince.” Sanji’s heart pounded against his chest. He didn’t want this moment to end. This perfect moment, with him holding your hands as the sun illuminated both of you. You let go first, his hands dropping to his sides as you picked up the glass of lemonade. Only a couple of ice cubes left as the rest had melted.

“Would you like more ice, my diamond?” Sanji asked, his gaze had shifted to a more flirtatious state. You chuckled. There he is. There’s the Sanji you are used to.

“I would love more ice.” You responded, handing him the glass.

He bowed as if he was your butler. A bow that said “your wish is my command.” And he walked to the kitchen. You laughed breathlessly, watching him light up at the sound. You glanced back at the blue sea, biting your lip at the lingering memory of the tender moment you shared with the chef. Moments later, he reappeared with your glass. You took it from him and stared at the ice for a second. Before he could leave you reached out for his hand.

“Would you want to stay and keep me company?”

“I’d want nothing more.”

[rascal-xo]

I genuinely like to think that Ghost has a massive sweet tooth. It’s always the people you don’t expect imo

Could you imagine reader casually bakes an apple pie one day to let ghost try and he goes MENTAL like I’m talking bro is hearing colors

I just envision him as a big hulking gorilla scarfing down his lovers pie and having crumbs all over his face. Aaaahhh my sweet big bad boy

Sweet Indulgence |Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader|

Chapter Summary: The one where his woman and a sweet and simple pie is Simon Riley's ultimate weakness.

Warnings: Sweet tooth rotting fluff, Domestic!Simon

Word Count: 819

A/N: Thank you for the amazing request!!

You carefully mix the flour and butter, the sweet scent of cinnamon and caramelized apples filling the room as you work. The breeze flowing in from the open windows brings in the fresh aroma of blooming flowers and fills your senses with the promise of spring.

Simon has been off on leave for the first few weeks of spring. The weight of the world is on his shoulders when he's on missions with he team, but being at your shared home is nothing less than heavenly for the Lieutenant.

Simon is out in the yard, planting flowers in your shared garden. You smile to yourself, catching a glimpse of your husband bare faced and hunched over on his knees in the grass, carefully tending to the pink lilies, completely lost in the peacefulness of his own home.

As you finish preparing the apple pie, you slide it into the oven and set the timer. You take a moment to peek out the window and watch Simon in the yard, the gentle breeze ruffling his blond hair, which turns golden under the sun.

You grab a glass of cold lemonade and make your way to the yard to join him. The sky is painted with hues of pink and orange, the air now a few degrees cooler as the evening approaches.

"Hey there, soldier," you say as you approach him, placing a kiss on his cheek. Simon turns his head, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

"Hi, beautiful." he replies with a smile. "Missed me?"

"Just wanted to come and see you up close," you say, taking a seat next to him in the grass. "And to bring you some lemonade."

Simon takes the glass from your hand and takes a sip, his eyes closing as he savors the cool drink. "Mmm, this is perfect," he says, setting the glass down. Simon wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him to leave a kiss in your hair.

"The gardens coming together nice." You notice, looking at his handiwork.

"Yeah, I think it's looking pretty good," he says, his gaze lingering on the flowers. "But it's nothing compared to the beauty that's sitting right next to me."

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, leaning into his embrace. "You're such a smooth talker," you tease, looking up at him with a grin.

Simon chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only for you, my love." You leave him to his work, with a sigh of contentment, you take the pie out of the oven to cool and head upstairs to take a quick shower. The warm water soothing your muscles as you let your mind wander.

After your shower, you towel off and change into a comfortable sundress, the fabric light and airy against your skin. As you make your way down the stairs, you can smell the sweet aroma of the pie filling the house, making your mouth water. "Si, the pies done-" you begin to call out but stop in your tracks when you make it to the kitchen.

As you enter the kitchen, you see Simon sitting at the counter with a slice of the apple pie in front of him. His broad shoulders are hunched forward, and he's digging into the pie with a fork, his movements almost primal as he savors the sweet treat. Crumbs and bits of apple are scattered all over his face, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight.

"Was gonna say that the pies ready, but seems like you figured that one out." You tease, making your way over to him.

Simon turns his head, smiling in surprise when he sees you. "Hey, I was just testing it out," he says, trying to wipe the crumbs off his face with the back of his hand. "You've outdone yourself, darling. This is the second best thing I've ever tasted." You chuckle and shake your head at his eyebrow raise, reaching for a napkin to help him clean up.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, taking a seat next to him. "But you have to save some for me, you know." Simon grins, his eyes lighting up mischievously. "I don't know, it's so good, I might just have to finish it all."

You playfully swat his arm, rolling your eyes. "Don't you dare, Simon Riley." He chuckles and leans in for a kiss, the taste of the apple pie still lingering on his lips. "I wouldn't dream of it, my love," he says, pulling you in for a warm embrace.

"I'll save you a slice, I promise." As you settle into his arms, the warmth of his embrace and the sweet aroma of the pie filling the air, you can't help but feel grateful for the simple moments of happiness and peace that you share with your husband, even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

A/N: Domestic Simon >>>>>