#still snorted tea out of my nose

[nariism]

wriothesley isn't one for grand displays of affection, whether it be through his actions or his words.

to the public eye, the two of you are nothing more than co-workers who take their lunch break at the same time. two people who have something to discuss at 3:00 pm every day (which is coincidentally the time for his tea break, as many have pointed out).

you're the first one at his door with piles of paperwork when the morning shift starts. you're the last one out of his office at the end of the day.

to the rest of the fortress, your relationship is superficial—a rumour passed on from old inmates to new ones that the warden and his assistant are secretly married.

it's always laughed off the same way: why would they ever have a reason to keep that a secret?

it's become a sort of inside joke between the two of you since the silly rumour started floating around.

"i overheard some people in the cafeteria talking about us again."

"did you say anything to them?"

you smile, placing down two boxes of welfare meals on the desk. "why would i? it's more fun to let them believe what they want."

"it doesn't bother you?" wriothesley watches you from the corner of his eye as you open them, grimacing at your meal and your bad luck.

"not really," you say, looking at him curiously. "does it bother you?"

he snorts, uncrossing his arms so he can gather you into his arms for the first time since you dropped off papers in the morning.

"nah," he hums, burying his face into the crook of your neck—the place where he seeks solace first when holding you.

"you're crushing me," you laugh, allowing him to press you into the desk with his arms squeezing you terribly tight. you wheeze dramatically and he pulls away with a grumble.

"come on, let me have this. i haven't seen you since your shift started."

"that was only a few hours ago..."

he pouts. "so you didn't miss me?"

"i didn't say that." you pinch his nose and he engulfs you again under his weight, scooping you closer to him with his arms around your waist this time.

"imagine if one of your guards saw us like this. what would happen to this grand mystery surrounding our relationship?" you sigh, hopping up onto the desk while he slots himself comfortably between your legs.

wriothesley can only chuckle. "then you would owe me three hundred coupons."

"seriously? you still remember that bet?" it was made ages ago, after all. a wager that no one would find out the truth before the end of the year.

"aw, don't be such a poor sport. three hundred coupons is nothing. need i remind you that you're married to the warden?"

"no," you breathe, holding him by the cheeks so you can press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "i don't know where you heard that false rumour, by the way. did an inmate tell you?"

your teasing makes him roll his eyes. he tackles you into a hug again. "oh hush already."

turns out that some rumours really are true.

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

[oneforthemunny]

hot blooded |boxer!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie's boxing at underground fight clubs to make money. after a victory match, he meets you at the bar. or the beginning of you and boxer!eddie.

contains: mean reader and mean eddie lol. mainly fluff. eddie munson au. happy one year!

Bloodied knuckles raised in the dim light of the bar, a triumphant yell mixed with a grunting of disappointment of those who bet against him when Eddie’s hand was raised, declared the winner. Henry Harrington fisted a wad of cash into Eddie’s hand; six thousand dollars, enough for the entry fee for the middleweight match at the end of the month. 

Mr. Harrington snickered, clapping Eddie on the back. “Help yourself to anything at the bar, alright? On me tonight, Champ, you earned it.” And for a fleeting moment Eddie pictured busting his nose, knocking the smug man clean onto the concrete of the bar, letting his blood pool at his feet. 

Instead, he shoved on the robe they gave, covered up his sticky, sweat soaked skin, blossoming with bruises and cuts he’d still hadn’t gotten to tend to. Maybe Max would still be up when he got back home, she could patch up the ones he couldn’t reach. 

“Double Blanton’s on the rocks.” Eddie grumbled to the cocktail waitress in front of him, not bothering to meet her gaze as he unwrapped his tape from his knuckles. 

She didn’t move. Electric red nails on her hip, the others drumming against the mahogany of the bar. Eddie lifted his gaze, lids throbbing with dull pain that was just beginning to set in. “What?” 

“You’re bleeding.” Your eyes rolled over his frame, stopping at the cut on his jaw, dripping onto his robe, crimson droplets on the bar. 

“Yeah.” Eddie clicked with annoyance. “No shit. Double Blanton’s-” 

“-You’re bleeding all over my bar.” Your nail jabbed onto the counter, next to the splotches of blood dripping there. 

Eddie blinked, unimpressed, annoyed. “Can you make me my fuckin’ drink or not?” You don’t move, staring at him still, nails still clicking against the counter. 

“For fucksake,” Eddie huffs, teeth gritting, reaching over the edge of the bar to swipe the napkins off from your station. Palm slapping on the counter, wiping up the small spot. “There. Happy? Good? Can I get my fuckin’ drink now?” 

Pushing up from your stance, you swiped the glass from the clean stack, setting it on the counter. Eddie huffed, slumping back in his chair. He should’ve just gone home, he bristled, familiar agitating heat rising in his chest, clenching his fists. 

“Harrington’s tab?” You lifted your gaze to his, yanking the cork out of the bottle by the brass horse. 

Eddie’s steely gaze met yours. “What?” 

“Harrington’s tab?” You repeated, slower, tone teetering on an edge. “You’re on Harrington’s tab, correct?” You huffed, nodding down towards the man at the end of the bar. 

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted. 

You rolled your eyes, a heavy pour of the bourbon you didn’t bother to measure. “The fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s palm slapped the bar, an echoing of a hit that the people next to him scurrying away. “Are you just a bitch for fun or do you have something against me?” 

“You came bleeding all over my bar,” You scoffed, brow raised in a dangerously demanding way. “Don’t bother to ask for a napkin, or even acknowledge me, really. And I’m a bitch?” 

Eddie’s tongue rolled over the front of his teeth, knee bouncing furiously under him. “Sorry, I’m not feeling up to small talk. I just got done gettin’ the shit knocked outta me for six rounds. Did you miss that, sweetheart? Not see all the fuckin’ people in the middle of the room?”

“No, I was a little busy.” You were quick, response rolling off your tongue in a fiery whip of an answer easily. “Busy working.” 

“Yeah? What the fuck do you think I was doin’?” Eddie scoffed. “Holding a fuckin’ tea party for the Sunday Social over there? I was working too.” 

“Working?” You snort, rolling your eyes again. Eddie’s teeth clench. “You call that working?” 

“I got paid.” Eddie hissed. “What would you call it? Since you seem to know everything?” 

“Not enough money in the world to make me do that for them.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Hardly call that working, it’s so demeaning.” 

“Demeaning,” Eddie repeated, rolling his eyes. “I provide entertainment, sweetheart. Same as you do, I’m sure.” He nodded down towards your tiny dress of a uniform. 

“Entertainment? That’s entertaining?” You nodded towards the ring.

“Yeah, it is. Boxing? A lot of people find it entertaining. Thought you would know that.” Eddie snapped, viscous, defensive. 

“Watching two grown men beat the shit out of each other, so these other grown men can bet on you like horses?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a sneer. “No, can’t say that’s very entertaining to me.” 

“So why are you here then, huh?” Eddie scoffed, jaw clenching in irritation. “Just here for your wonderful personality?” 

Your lips twitched, the fainting of a smile, surprising Eddie. “Something like that.” Your lips rolled, twisting back to their resting snarl. “Here for the same reason you are, I guess.” You set the glass on a black napkin, sliding it over to Eddie. 

“Yeah, why’s that?” 

You cut your eyes towards Mr. Harrington, loudly talking and howling in laughter at the other end of the bar. “Money’s good. Right?” Your eyes squint, nearly in challenge.

 “Let me know if you need anything else.” You purred, throwing a wink in his direction. Eddie’s head was spinning, and not only from all the punches he’d taken. 

He blamed it on his spinning head clouding his thoughts when he waved you over again, ordered another. And another. And a final one. When his head was swimming, mind a little clouded, nerves a lot calmer, he called you over again. 

“Another?” Your brow raised, snagging his empty glass off the counter. 

“No.” Eddie shook his head, the ache in his knuckles starting to set in. “What if it wasn’t here that I was fighting?” 

“What?” You scoffed. “What are you talking about?” 

“You said it was demeaning in here.” Eddie’s finger jabbed the counter for emphasis. “What if it wasn’t here?” 

You squinted at him, lips pulling in a line that had his heart skipping. “Are you drunk?” Your voice fell flat, unamused. “Do you need me to call you a ride home-” 

“-If it was at a real place.” Eddie continued, eyes never leaving yours, an intensity in them that started and intrigued you. “A real match at a real rink with real people. Nobody betting, just two guys fighting for a title. Would it be demeaning then?” 

You paused, watching him carefully, studying him nearly. “I guess not.” You answered cooly, level and calmly. 

“So you’d watch that then?” 

“What?” You snarled. “Are you alright? Do you need me to call someone, or-” 

“-Would you come watch me fight if it was at a real place?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowed in the same way they were before, burning you right to your very core. “In Bloomington in a few weeks.” 

Your fingers pressed into your hip, willing yourself to stay composed, not falter though your heart skipped at his ask. “Maybe.” You sighed sharply. “I still don’t get the whole beating each other for fun thing-” 

“-You don’t have to.” Eddie rolled his eyes, lighter this time, more playful. “Thanks for the drink.” Eddie pushed his chair back, groaning lowly when he pulled himself out of the bar stool, body stiff and tight. “Sorry for bleeding all over your bar.” 

You bit back a smile, fighting the way your lips twitched, tracking him with your eyes. “No problem, Champ.” You quipped, eyes flashing in a daring way that had Eddie smirking, shaking his head. 

“See you around.” Eddie waved, one last look over his shoulder that had you burning, turning to empty his glass, hoping to hide your fluster. 

You were shocked the next day when two tickets in an envelope were waiting for you in the office, Mr. Harrington’s exaggerated tone about how much Eddie liked you. And he must have, you decided, looking at the small note that had his phone number scribbled at the bottom. 

Eddie never heard back from you, let it slip his mind in the next weeks of training. Of course you hadn’t come, why would you have? You made your opinions abundantly clear to him that night. 

Still, he was shocked to see you, in the sea of the crowd, sitting in the row by his corner, arms wrapped around your torso, looking a little more than unsure. You even waved at him, small and shy, and Eddie was sure his cheeks were going to split with how wide he smiled. 

He invited you back to his locker room after he won, a victory Camel hanging from his busted lip, torso still covered in a sheen of sweat. You had no issues this time when the blood from his busted lip dripped on your sneakers, when it smeared over your own lips when he kissed you, pressed against the cement walls, bruised knuckles and fingers in your hair. 

[atsumutu]

The run up to the season is tough, taxing both physically and mentally on Atsumu. The setter had been out of the house before you had woken up, the tepid cup of tea placed by your bedside table letting you know that you had only missed him by 10 minutes or so. It was now late afternoon and he was finally home.

“Long day?” You walk towards Atsumu who slumps onto the sofa. Groaning loudly, he sprawls across the furniture, eyes shutting blissfully. His gym bag was still strapped to his shoulder, half on the couch, half spilling onto the floor making you smile fondly.

“Yeah, something like that.” he mumbles. Atsumu peeks an eye open to ask you “How was your day, baby?”

“A slow one,” you reply honestly, recalling your mundane day. “Had to pick a few things up from the grocery store so I made your favourite.”

The blond sits up at the mention of food. “You’re an angel you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” you muse. 

“Yeah?” You’ve finally made it close enough for the setter to reach you and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you, guiding you onto his lap. You happily take a seat, resting your arms around his shoulders so you can run your fingers through his hair. “Hope it wasn't some rando at the grocery store.” he growls playfully, nipping at your neck.

You squirm in his arms, giggling as his nibbles turn into kisses, tickling the skin up your neck and across your jaw. Never one to miss an opportunity to tease, Atsumu purposely skips past your lips, making you pull back with a frown.

The setter grins boyishly, swiping a thumb over your pout. “Sorry sorry.” he chuckles before landing a wet kiss on you, laughing even harder when you scrunch your nose and peel away from him.

“Go put your stuff away. I’m gonna check on dinner.”

“Dinner? When I’ve got a whole five course meal in my arms?”

You can’t help but snort at his lame joke. “Just a few minutes ago you were drooling at the mention of food.”

“Yeah, well now I’m hungry for something else.” he insists, palms smoothing along your waist.

Rolling your eyes, you rest your palms on his chest, creating a safe distance between you two. “Pack it up, Romeo. Dinner in 10 minutes.” you warn, giving him a peck before slipping away from his hold.

Atsumu sighs contently, a lazy grin plastered across his face as he leans back onto the sofa, arms crossed behind his head. “I love it when you boss me around.”

“10 minutes. If you’re not there I'm packing it up and taking it to ‘Samu tomorrow.”

Atsumu scrambles.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

brick BRICK please I AM ON MY KNEES i just saw the bucktommy MCD fic aldhslhdkalkabsk i know i KNOW you said you don’t have the time or purview to write it, but if you would find it within your heart to further read us into shreds in any way, shape, or form, i’d be eternally grateful

(only if you would like to, of course, and quite honestly, i’m not sure i’d be able to survive another drabble, let alone a fully fledged fic)

Alright okay I’m thinking about it too here’s a tiny thing mwah mwah

“It’s his birthday,” Buck says eventually, when the mug has stopped steaming entirely. It almost startles Eddie, the sudden sound in a quiet that felt so final. He turns off the sink, sets down the last of the dishes, joins Buck at the table. Buck’s thumb caresses up and down the side of the mug. When Eddie picks up his own, it's skin-warm. “I liked to… plan things, I like to be… organized.” A rueful smile that stops miles short of his eyes. “You’ve probably noticed at work. I’ve been told I can be a monster with a clipboard in hand.” His voice is steady enough that Eddie is pretty sure Tommy isn’t the one who ever did the telling. “And he was going to be 45 and feeling some kind of way about that so… So I, uh, had it planned already. Before- uh- b-before.”

Tommy Kinard has been dead for seven months. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever put that much forethought into anything. He enlisted after an afternoon chatting at a recruitment booth. He applied to the fire academy on impulse after he saw an ad online. “What were you…”

Buck sighs. “Camping. Up north. Rented one of those, you know, cute vintage RVs. We were going to stop a few places. Had the vacation time cleared and ready to go.” He grimaces, shrugs, his eyes wet again. “I never… canceled any of it. I probably could have got some refunds, but I just… it was too- I- I just couldn’t.” He coughs something adjacent to a laugh. “The… I picked mint green, like the toaster he- got it from his aunt, I think. Uh. For the RV. It’s probably sitting in a lot somewhere right now waiting for us.”

“Buck, I…” Eddie wants to reach out so bad his hand moves on its own accord, clumsy, catching on his mug and clattering the ceramic against the wood of the table. “If you wanted company you could have told me why, but also you- you didn’t have to come here. I-I’m sorry. I know how hard it can be to… to be around people, to talk to anybody when you’re feeling like… and special occasions just make it worse.”

Buck- laughs. A few soft snorts, through his nose, smile hitting a little closer to clear blue. “That’s the thing, Eddie. That’s the… I miss him like this every day. I wake up and- and there’s a moment before I roll over where I think- hope- what if when I turn he’ll be there smiling at me? I-I-I miss his smile so bad, I- I have pictures, t-there’s even video- our wedding- b-but- but it’s not the same-” He gasps, and his shoulders turn in again, all of him crumpling towards a center line as he covers his face with one hand, the other white knuckled around his mug. “Sorry. S-sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay, Buck.” Eddie’s hand is still hovering over the table, he’d never done anything with it after his failed reach. Close the gap. Just close the gap. He doesn’t.

Buck wipes his eyes, clears his throat, straightens up again. “Sorry. It’s… it’s just a day. They’re all- they’re all going to be like this. He’s not going to be in any of them. So I just have to- I’m just going to keep going.” Another smile, still wet and wretched but genuine anyways. “Besides, I told Chris I’d be here to help. Not a promise I’m interested in breaking.”

Eddie nods, biting his tongue against the sting in his own eyes that he’s not even entirely sure the cause of. “Well, thank god. I flunked freshman bio.”

Tea sloshes over Buck’s hand with how hard his laugh rattles through him. Eddie jumps up to get a towel, and when he goes to hand it over he gets caught frozen for a moment by Buck’s amused eye contact. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“I had a C+ average.”

Eddie’s not sure how they manage not to spill the rest of the mug in the outburst that follows, but it stays stubbornly upright as their laughter bounces around the kitchen cabinets, mixing together, filling the room. When Buck smiles up at him again it looks just a little easier, and Eddie thinks- he thinks he’d do a lot to make Buck’s life easy. He shakes out the towel and cleans up the tea.

[bunniekittiee]

What do you think if Titan Bi-Han had returned to that MK1 timeline by chance and met his counterparts lover who remains with Kuai Liang and Tomas?? How would either react to seeing each other?? And what if he had lost her in his timeline?? Or something.

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader

Oh my goodness I love this so much! Seriously, you are all so creative! I tried to make this as sweet as possible! :,) Sorry if this is kind of short and abruptly ending, im doing my best to get through requests and also sleep off my sickness

It was never easy to come to terms with Bi-Han's betrayal. The night the brothers arrived to Liu Kang's temple without her husband, she thought the worst. Her heart was in her throat. The brothers held solemn looks as Kuai Liang gently told her that Bi-Han had betrayed them for Shang Tsung. He was never going to come back.

Her legs gave out on her as Kuai gripped her tighter, sobbing while she buried her face in his shoulder. The sounds of grief. How could he do this to them?

They were family. A somewhat happy family.

But that was never enough for Bi-Han. He always wanted something more.

Tomas and Kuai held her all night long while she cried. She cried like she was mourning Bi-Han, and in a way, she was. Mourning the Bi-Han she loved and cared for more than her own being. The Bi-Han that would never come back to her. It broke her, and everyday she reminisced about her life with him. How he would kiss the tip of her nose before he went to make plans, or how he would pull her in by her waist and softly sigh into her neck when he was behind closed doors. She missed him dearly.

As much as she wanted to be with Bi-Han, she could not leave her dear 'brothers' behind. Bi-Han had already abandoned them, they would be devastated if she left too. So she stayed. She was there when the Shirai Ryu first began their mission of protecting Earthrealm. She was there when Liu Kang had their swearing-in to take on the task that the Lin Kuei had abandoned. She was there with Kuai Liang and Harumi married each other. She was there when Hanzo Hasashi, not their Hanzo, invaded their timeline in search for a Harumi. She was there for many events after Bi-Han's betrayal, events that he was not there for.

Bi-Han never came back for her, and it made her depressed. Even though she would not leave the Shirai Ryu, it made her sorrowful that Bi-Han had forgotten all about her. In her locket, she still held a picture of him. Although his face was unsmiling, his features were softened. A look of love. She often looked at this photo, gently twirling the chain in her other hand. Sometimes she smiled at the picture, sometimes she stared at it sadly. She could never see the love of her life again, and she had to come to terms with that.

She often prepared their lunches and the boys were very thankful for that. She knew what their favorites were and how to make it correctly. Sometimes for lunch, they would all sit together and talk about old memories with the Lin Kuei. Often times, they were good memories. Ones that you could never forget.

However, by the end of the lunch hour, they would be sad. Sad that it had to be this way. And they hoped that maybe in other timelines, they were happy together. Without Bi-Han’s betrayal.

The morning was fresh yet cloudy and the smell of rain was beginning to clash with the smell of breakfast for the boys. They sat at the table as they sipped on tea and talked amongst each other. She cooked as quickly as she could so they could eat in enough time.

“What a depressing day.” Tomas sighed as he glanced out the window. “Sometimes days like this make me feel sad.”

“I understand, brother.” Kuai Liang replied with a small frown. “I like the sunshine.” They both looked at her.

She caught their glances. “I don’t mind it. Bi-Han always preferred rainy, depressing days. Even though most of the time it was snowing.”

Tomas snorted. “That’s about all we could get was snow.” They all giggled quietly as they resumed back to silence. Once breakfast was ready, she served them heaping amounts of food. As fit as the brothers were, they sure ate a lot. They definitely cleaned house when it came to food. But she didn’t mind. She enjoyed cooking very much as it made her feel helpful. Although she had duties to attend to, they were not significant like the brothers, so sometimes she felt like she was not doing enough. They always reassured her.

Scarfing down breakfast, they helped clean up their messes and said their goodbyes to start on their day. She sighed quietly as the door shut. As much as she wanted to stay inside all day, she knew she could not. When there were rainy days, Bi-Han insisted on her staying indoors and every once in a while, he would come home early to cuddle in bed. Kissing her neck and shoulder as he buried his head in her neck. Sometimes his hands trailed lower as he kissed parts of her body. Most of the time, that initiated a long night.

Shaking her head with a small smile, she took one last sip of her tea and began to start on her day. Most of the work was fairly easy. It was not that Kuai Liang believed she could not do hard work, he believed that she was one of them. So she deserved to have lighter duties. Their warriors had to prove themselves, Y/N did not have to prove anything.

After about two hours of working, she took a break to take in her surroundings. She breathed in the rainy air, feeling her lungs expand further. But in the distance, she saw a glowing light that pulsated. Tilting her head, she slowly got up until Tomas ran up to her.

“Get inside now!” He said firmly as he grabbed her.

“What’s going on?” She asked with worry.

“Just get inside please.” He replied as she began to make her way back inside her chambers. She was confused. What was happening? What was that light? There were many questions she had that could not be answered.

She waited, pacing around the room as she so badly wanted to go and see what was happening. Was it Bi-Han? Was it Shang Tsung? The possibilities were endless.

That was, until Tomas rapped his knuckles on her door once again. She opened it, immediately opening her mouth to ask a question but he grabbed her wrist again. “Come with me. There is something to show you.” He looked excited. Her brain ran a million miles per hour as he lead her to the temple. She was confused why Tomas looked so happy.

That was, until she saw who was standing in front of them.

Wearing a lighter blue uniform with clean, black locks secured in a bun and his face softened, was Bi-Han talking to Kuai Liang. Her world began to spin as she stared at him. He did not look angry or upset. He looked content. That was an emotion he had hardly shown unless he was secured in his own home. His eyes were not hardened. They were gentle. His eyes swept over to her figure and they locked eyes, his own widening at the sight of her.

“My firefly…” he said breathlessly as he began to quickly approach you. She felt herself begin to tear up as he engulfed her in a bear hug.

“Bi-Han.” She croaked as her tears fell from her face. “Is it truly you?”

He pulled his face away to look at her. “I am not the Bi-Han of this timeline, but I am still him.” His eyes were full of love and joy. She felt her heart slightly sink. “Then who are you?”

Sighing as he pulled away, he began to explain the history of his timeline. Where Bi-Han was never that hard on his brothers. Where he loved them both and never tried to shun Smoke. Where he did not kill their father. Where he did not betray them and pull away from Liu Kang.

But as he continued his story, his face began to fall. “However, when Shang Tsung came to fight with us, it costed much more than I anticipated. And he,” he looked as if he was struggling. “He took you away from me. He killed you.”

Taking his hands within her own, she looked at him. “I am truly sorry for that. We both lost our significant others it seems.”

He hugged her again. “I am happy to be reunited, even if it is for a moment. My beautiful girl.” Her heart swelled up hearing those words slip past Titan Bi-Han’s lips and her eyes watered once more. He was so sweet. It was a little surprising to see him this affectionate in front of his ‘siblings’, but she had to remind herself that this was a different Bi-Han. Which meant he was raised somewhat differently. He wasn’t the same as her Bi-Han, but they were sure alike.

All three of them spent the day with him, ignoring their duties as they relished in their happiness. Kuai Liang was standoffish at first, but he warmed up quickly to Titan Bi-Han. How could he not? This Bi-Han was so much more affectionate and friendly compared to their Bi-Han that they had grown accustomed to. The coldness was replaced with warmth.

He was so sweet, always complimenting Tomas and his fighting skills as they all trained the ninjas together. Tomas felt his heart swell with every compliment Bi-Han had given him. This Bi-Han was so much more pleasant. It was as if Kuai Liang had possessed the form of Bi-Han.

Their day together had been an eye opener for Bi-Han’s family. They realized how much they missed out on with their Bi-Han. How much he took away from them. They wished to have this one in their timeline, but they knew he could not stay forever.

Eventually, the brothers said goodbye and let her be with her ‘husband’. They figured they both needed the time to be with each other.

“My beloved,” Titan Bi-Han said as they closed the door to her chambers. “I have missed you for an eternity.”

Leaning into his embrace, she gently kissed him on his lips as they laid onto the bed. Bi-Han caressed her face with one hand while the other held her hip. His kisses were cold but the way he held her radiated warming love. He pulled away from her and rested his forehead against her, his dark brown eyes looking into hers. “I don’t want to lose you again.” He whispered. “I don’t want to leave you.”

She felt her eyes water again for about the hundredth time today and he wiped them away with his thumbs. “Do not cry, my firefly. I will always be around.”

“I wish I had him… you back. I wish I had you back, Bi-Han.” She said quietly as he laid a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“I am here for now, my love.” He replied as he kissed her again. “Live in the moment, it’s okay.”

She wondered if it was considered adultery for making love with Bi-Han’s Titan counterpart, but she reasoned with herself in her head. He was slow and passionate, always giving her kisses and soft touches down her body as he became one with her. It was as if their souls were colliding and becoming one within each other. It was sensual. She had not made love with Bi-Han for a very long time, let alone another man.

He held her all throughout the night as their bodies intertwined with one another, basking in their warmth and adoration. He did not want to let her go. She was just with him for a moment, and he didn’t want to let it slip past his fingertips. But he knew he had to leave. But for now, he could enjoy his time that he had with her for now.

[konigs-left-pec]

Just a little sweet morning one-shot. Simon Ghost Riley x FemReader as I'm procrastinating on the next smutfest in my drafts.

Mildly explicit; mdni.

Simon is so beautiful it hurts - tall and broad, just big all over with high cheekbones and long, sweeping lashes brimming darksome eyes that tell you more about him than his lips ever could. You're certain that you'll never forget the first time he showed you his face and even now your heart catches almost painfully in your chest at the memory.

He's sprawled in your bed, still solidly and blissfully asleep, naked as the day he was born with the sheets rucked down low at his waist. He's yours. The thought evokes something visceral that you can't quite explain, blooming deep inside like spilled paint when you look at him. You're privileged, you remind yourself; the others don't ever get to see him like you do.

He stirs when you brush your fingertips over his lips, eyes slowly cracking open, adjusting to the dim pre dawn glow infusing your bedroom. His gaze settles on you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a warm smile. Every time Simon looks at you it feels like he's seeing you for the first time. Always so full of longing and doting warmth that it overwhelms you. You can't believe that he loves you.

"mornin' lovie" he husks into your ear, rough like broken glass, as he nestles impossibly closer. Bastard knows what his voice does to you first thing in the morning. You're already hopelessly ensnared by him, strong arms wrapped under and around your chest, one hand cupped possessively over your breast. You push into the feeling and he groans lowly, grinding his morning erection into the plush curve of your ass as his nose nudges the spot behind your ear.

"you're so bloody gorgeous." You know it annoys him, but you can't help the incredulous snort that escapes you at his words and the distractingly wonderful way he's pressing open kisses against your jaw. "s'true..." he laughs when you roll your eyes, "I love you."

"I love you too, Si." It comes out as a whisper, your throat tight with how besotted you are with this man. His mouth and hands are still wandering, no longer Innocent in their intent. You want him to fuck you into the mattress, you want his lust to break over you, steal your breath like a thunderous wave. His touch has turned greedy and your spine tingles as one of his hands skims down the length of your body, seeking out the dripping heat between your thighs.

You might just get your wish.

It will be another hour before you both get out of bed, finally ready to start your day. You'll watch him get dressed, drink his tea, and perform all manner of mundane trivialities one does day by day. You can't believe how damn lucky you are to live every day with him like it's the first.

[yougotthatbilly]

if you’d let me (m)

→ member: lee donghyuck  → genre: friends to lovers!au | fluff | smut → playlist: eyes off you x prettymuch, attention x shinee, curiosity x nao →word count: 6.8k → warnings: pining, praise, teasing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (discussed), hand holding aka soft sex ↳summary: your curiosity reaches its peak when it comes to your best friend, who you happen to be in love with

Summer is right around the corner and the weather shows it, the sun high and bright in the sky with temperatures hitting the low eighties when just last week it was in the mid sixties. The light breeze feels good on your skin, ruffling the skirt of your dress, but it does nothing to bring you back into the moment. 

Cheek in hand, you’ve spaced out, gaze caught on the side profile of your best friend’s face. It’s only been a week, but the sun has already kissed his skin, his golden tone coming back from being washed out by the winter. Your eyes trace the slope of his nose to the plumpness of his pretty lips, which are moving quickly as he recalls a conversation he had with Jaemin that you guess is relevant to the one he and Chaeryeong are having. 

Brown eyes drift over to you, and when Donghyuck catches your gaze, he winks cheekily at you, the conversation going uninterrupted. He’s gotten used to being a focal point when you zone out, and there’s a fifty-fifty chance that if it weren’t for the fact he was so deep into what he’s talking about, he would’ve teased you about it. But Chaeryeong calls you out for him when they get to a stopping point. 

“Honey.” She snaps her fingers inches away from your face, laughing when you blink a few times and tune back into reality. “You good?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a long sip of your milk tea. “Just tired.”

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you didn’t binge that stupid show instead of getting some sleep,” Donghyuck mumbles. He flinches dramatically when you pretend to throw your phone at his head. “Just saying.”

“I had to know if the baby was his or not before going to sleep.”

“And now you have luggage under your eyes,” he responds flatly, the corner of his mouth quirking up at the look of offense he receives. Leaning over to pinch your cheek gently, he backpacks his statement, “Still the prettiest girl I know, though.”

Chaeryeong frowns. “You never compliment me like that.” 

“Pretty sure I’d get my ass beat if I even look at you too long.” Donghyuck laughs, leaning back into his metal chair, but not before swiping your drink from your hand. His own beverage is only halfway gone, but he always wants to try whatever you’re having because it’s typically very different from his order. “But you’re alright, I guess.”

“I mean, I would be possessive over me, too.” She exhales in amusement, ignoring the latter part of his words. Gesturing herself from head to toe, she says, “Do you see me?”

You hum, nodding. “I’d hit.”

She smirks, wiggling her brows before her eyes light up like she just remembered something.

“Speaking of,” she sing-songs. “Are you still talking to that one guy?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, babe.”

Rolling her eyes, she slouches into her seat, conjuring up the details for you to know who she’s talking about. “The one that sent you a selfie and said ‘your throne awaits you.’”

Donghyuck scoffs, unimpressed.

“I entertained him for like a day before I unmatched. I thought I told you that.”

“Nope,” she shakes her head before pouting. “He was cute.”

You snort. “He was a horny weirdo. I thought Hinge was supposed to be better than Tinder.”

“All dating apps are the same,” Donghyuck says disinterestedly, biting the tip of your straw with his front teeth as he looks down at whatever is on his phone screen. 

“Chaeryeong got lucky.”

As if her boyfriend sensed your words, Chaeryeong’s phone rings. The scrape of the metal chair against concrete is sharp and quick as she stands before she gathers her bag and boba. Holding a finger up to the two of you, she answers the call and scurries off in the direction of her car. 

You snatch your drink from Donghyuck mid-sip, blowing a kiss in response to his glare. Finishing your milk tea, you glance at your watch, seeing it’s half an hour away from the time you planned on going to the library to get some work done undisturbed. 

“Are you going to your seven o’clock tonight?” you ask.

“Yeah, I ran out of absences,” he grumbles. “Why?”

You shake your head. “I’ll just ask Jaemin to get me.”

“Or you can just wait until I get out?” he almost questions, tone as if his solution is the only logical one. “You going to the library?” 

“Yeah, but I doubt I’ll need to be there past nine.”

-

The scent of books collecting dust is comforting, as well as the silence around you, which are the main reasons you don’t mind the fact that you’ve been in the library longer than necessary, your laptop shut, untouched for the past half hour as you scroll on your phone aimlessly. You sigh, switching from Instagram to Twitter, adjusting your folded legs to take some of your weight off of them and lean more onto the arm on the one seater lounge chair. Nothing is entertaining on social media right now, so you go to Hinge to check your messages.

“Ready?” Your favorite voice asks in your ear, startling you. Your best friend grins down mischievously at you when you whip your head over your shoulder, his handsome face close enough for your nose to almost brush his own. You drop your phone in your lap to raise your hand, but he catches it before the impact comes to press a kiss to your knuckles, and your heart flutters in your chest. “Come on, the weather is dropping.”

Donghyuck walks around you to pack your bag up, getting the task done in the time it takes you to stand and slide into your shoes. Bag slipped over his shoulder, he gives the area a brief inspection before walking in the direction of the exit.

“Could’ve been in bed by now,” you sigh, falling in step with him. It’s known you could’ve easily called Jaemin like you initially said you would, but Donghyuck’s company is always welcomed, always appreciated, even when you have to wait after your responsibilities are taken care of just because of his night class. 

Donghyuck throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, smiling a smile that shows he knows you’re just complaining for the sake of it. “You can be in my bed now.”

“Lucky me,” you deadpan, groaning in faux anguish at the way he squeezes you in retaliation. “You’ll make it up to me with some food and cuddles though, right?”

“I dunno if I like you enough for all that.”

With an unbelieving hum, you return his half embrace with an arm around his waist, listening as he tells you about the deer he saw walking across the street on his way to come get you. Five minutes later, you’re kicking your shoes off by his front door before you make yourself comfortable on his kitchen counter, sure to stay out of the way while Donghyuck whips something quick up for the pair of you.

“I matched with a cute guy earlier,” you tell him to fill in the silence, feet swinging gently. Long periods of quiet time are comfortable with him, but you’re feeling chatty and also don’t know how to go about said guy. A noncommittal hum is your response, his attention on chopping up some vegetables. “He’s kinda boring, though. Feels like I’m carrying the conversation on my back.”

“Then stop talking to him?” Donghyuck so helpfully supplies. 

“Haven’t replied since this afternoon.” You watch as your best friend slides the chopped veggies into the hot pan on the stove, the oil and produce making a hissing sound that fills in the gap of silence. “He seems like a cool guy, so I wanna give him a fair shot.”

“If that’s what you wanna do.”

You squint at the back of his head. 

“You’re judging,” you accuse. The disinterested tone, the lack of eye contact. His responses aren’t authentic at all. At your call out, he turns to you, brow lifted. 

“I’m not,” he responds unconvincingly before shrugging. “I told you it’s a waste of time and you just keep proving me right.”

He avoids your foot that aims for his thigh and catches it while it’s still mid-air, just barely tugging you forward in retaliation but with enough force to scare you. Your panic makes him laugh deeply as he steps into the space between your legs with a mocking pout that mirrors the one you’re sporting. Hands on either side of your body, flat against the granite countertop, Donghyuck puts his weight on his arms, leaning into your bubble even more. 

“Just try talking to him on the phone or FaceTime,” he suggests softly, back to his serious self, head tilted to the side. He knows you weren’t just bringing the situation up in passing. He’s one of the main people you go to when you can’t decide what next step to take on your own. “For all you know, the love of your life could just be a bad texter.”

Your fingers find their way up to absentmindedly play with the chain that dangles from his neck as you take a deep, but subtle inhale, breathing in his warm scent. Matching his soft tone, you say, “Him being the love of my life is a bit much, don’t you think?”

It’s really more of a pastime and entertainment thing being on a dating app. He knows this, but he doesn’t quite understand the extent of why, and the less he knows right now, the better. You’re okay with waiting a while longer before telling him. Even when small, intimate moments like these are so bittersweet. 

“You’re right.” He hums, nodding. Brown eyes bounce between both of yours before they quickly dip down to your mouth. “That spot’s reserved for me.” 

And with a parting wink, he pushes himself up and spins to tend to the dinner sizzling away, your hand dropping pathetically back down to your lap. 

You stare at Donghyuck’s back, watching his shoulder blades move as he cooks before you take a long blink, taking your mind out of the previous moment. You grab your phone and message Jeno, ignoring what he said last in favor of asking if he wants to talk on the phone and for his number. It allows you to distract yourself from the thoughts that try to arise. 

–

The verdict is that Jeno is not only a bad texter, but an incredibly bad conversationalist in general. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt (again), seeing that it was the first time being on a call, but the second attempt was just as bad. His responses to your questions were very straight forward, no detail when describing his job or major, or hobbies. No banter, no jokes, nothing. You assume he doesn’t have to put in much effort when it comes to pulling women because he’s attractive and most people like a laid back guy. 

As soon as you hang up, you go into the dating app and unmatch with Jeno. 

And of course, when you were just going to take the loss and sweep it under the rug, your best friend asks about it a couple days later.

“So how did the phone call with the love of your life go?” Initially, you pretend to not hear him, choosing to give all of your attention to placing herbs into the bowl that was just set in front of you. You then squeeze some sauce on top, humming a quiet tune under your breath. “That bad, huh?”

You glance up at him finally, Donghyuck sporting a knowing grin, and roll your eyes.

“Tell me about it,” he presses, slouching back in his seat, all of his attention being given to you. 

“He’s like a donut you thought was filled with cream or jam only to bite into nothing but dough.”

He snorts, biting the inside of his lips to keep the laughter in. You’ll never understand the joy he feels when meeting someone new is a failure for you. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, huh.”

“Don’t start,” you warn non-threateningly. But of course he doesn’t listen.

“You probably have the worst taste in men. No one is beating your ex, though.” He winces theatrically. “Yikes.”

You scoff, knowing he’s absolutely correct about your track record, but choose to deflect. “You would’ve found a way to disapprove even if he was perfect.” 

“I mean, if a guy can’t do more for you or treat you better than I do, I’m not going to approve,” Donghyck says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Just wasting your time.”

“You don’t even give me everything I need.”

Now he’s offended and you’re confused at why.

“What don’t I give you?” 

Extending a finger with each example you give him, you list, “Sensual love, romance, sex.”

Friendship and genuine love that you want from relationships, platonic or romantic, are covered for sure, but that’s it (okay, and maybe you two teeter on the line of sensual love, according to Chaeryeong). You don’t expect your best friend to give you those things, but you surely wouldn’t mind. That’s neither here nor there, though.

“I would if you’d let me.”

Head tilted, you squint, masking the fact your stomach dips. Sometimes he can be a little too convincing. 

“Can you be serious for once?”

“I’m deadass.” 

There’s a silent staring contest that takes place for at least a minute before he looks like he’s going to laugh, then the noise comes from his chest because you pout. 

“You’re an idiot.” you deadpan.

“Yet you considered it,” Donghyuck lilts, attention back on the pho steaming in front of him. He twists some noodles into his spoon, puts some meat and bean sprouts on top then slurps the food into his mouth. 

“I mean, if you eat pussy like that I might actually consider–”

His chews come to a slow stop. “You can find out if you’re curious.”

“My place or yours?” you ask in a lower octave, leaning forward. His gaze drops from your teeth teasingly biting your lower lip to the cleavage you purposefully put on display, just for him, before his face goes straight. He pushes you out of his face and continues to eat, trying not to join in on your laughter, if the quiver of his lips as he assembles the perfect bite says anything. 

“No but really,” you say once your giggles die out, finally getting to your own bowl. Curiosity killed the cat. You’d rather stop while you’re ahead. “I am coming over later. Got some comp sci work to finish then I’ll head over.”

“What if I had plans?”

“Then you’re going to reschedule them?” You laugh, not taking him seriously. “I shouldn’t be there until around nine, ten the latest. So do whatever you have planned before then.”

“Just let me know when you need me to get you.”

You shake your head, chewing and swallowing your mouthful. “I’m working with Jaemin. He’ll drop me off.”

He squints but chooses to say nothing in return, instead giving a nod of his head.

Your study session lasts a lot longer than you planned. One, because it’s been a while since you’ve seen Jaemin, so there was a good amount of time in between questions talking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with the material that will be on your exam in a couple of days. Two, because your mind keeps drifting to a conversation you had earlier in the day, specific words repeating in your mind. 

“What’s up with you?” Jaemin asks after catching you zoned out for the nth time tonight. The first couple of times, he simply poked you to get you out of your head and focus on the work ahead, now, he wants to know what’s actually going on up there. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

You shake your head, smiling gently. “Nothing. I’m good.”

His eyes narrow. “Who are you thinking about?”

There’s no way it’s that obvious. 

“No one,” you grumble, shifting in your seat with the intention to focus back on your screen. But then your phone vibrates against the wooden table, and the man of your thoughts is who just texted you. 

[11:01] hyuckie: are you still coming over

You hadn’t even realized the time until just now. 

There’s a moment of hesitation after you pick the phone up to reply to his message, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip as you ponder if you should still go over tonight with where your mind has been drifting for the last several hours. You don’t usually let them get this far, but the words I would if you’d let me have made you spiral essentially. Yes, the two of you are constantly going back and forth and since the very beginning there’s always been flirtation, but something about the way he said that statement, something about those very simple words, have you wondering. 

You feel Jaemin lean into your side to nosily look down at your phone. Not only is the man beside you book smart, he also has great common sense and puts things together pretty quickly. Something you love and despise depending on the moment. And after his next question, your feelings lean towards the latter. 

“Something finally happened between you two?”

There’s also confusion that follows.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He gives you a look that makes you feel like you’re supposed to know what he’s talking about. And you suppose you do, but you’re not quite sure where he’s coming from. Jaemin rewords his question to, “Is he the reason you’re more spaced out than usual tonight?”

You could lie. You’ve kept how you feel to yourself, not confiding in anyone, especially not mutual friends, but it’s Jaemin. And the look on your face snitches on you, anyway.

“What exactly do you know?” You deflect.

Your response from him is a snort of disbelief before he realizes your question was genuine. “Oh, honey.” There’s a bit of fondness in his tone that makes you feel weird. “I know that you two are ridiculous but it’s entertaining to see you both be so blind to what’s so obvious. I promised to keep my mouth shut, though. I’ve said enough.”

You guess your silence wasn’t enough to hide how you’ve been feeling. You don’t know how to feel about that. A little embarrassed because now you’re just imagining an outsider’s perspective on seeing you be lovesick. But if he’s calling you and Donghyuck blind, your best friend hasn’t a clue. 

Wait. 

Another vibration, this time directly in your hand. 

[11:04] hyuckie: ???

“You promised him that?”

Another look that lets you know that you already know the answer to your question is sent your way. “Let’s get you over there and pick back up tomorrow, hm?”

“But—”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to concentrate better after you situate this with him.”

You squint, but still follow his lead as he packs his book bag, clearing the table.

-

Jaemin waits until you’ve unlocked Donghyuck’s front door and disappeared inside before he heads home, but not before telling you to go for it, vague as ever. He’s told you absolutely nothing, yet somehow really did tell you just enough.

The stove light is the only one on inside, and a quick glance around shows that your best friend has already retired to his room for the night. You make your way to his room, the blue light of his tv flickers from under his door with the volume low. With a deep breath, you open the door and step inside. 

Sat up against the headboard, Donghyuck glances at you from over his specs. He’s shirtless, just lounging in his plaid pajamas and your thoughts only continue to spiral. You rip your gaze away after it lingers for a silent moment.

“Something wrong with your phone?” Is the first thing he says and you shake your head as you set your purse and keys on his desk. “Then why didn’t you let me know you were gonna be late?”

You open the drawer in his dresser designated for you, ready to get out of your clothes and get comfortable. But at the last second, you decide against changing into your own clothes and instead go through the drawer above. You slip out of your dress and into one of Donghyuck’s bigger t-shirts, wanting (needing) the extra comfort, before moving to his desk to put your clothes with the rest of your stuff. 

“Lost track of time.” You shrug, turning to face him and catch his gaze that lingers on the outline of your breasts, sliding down to your bare legs before his eyes lift back to meet yours. “There’s been a lot on my mind today.”

“You okay?” 

He makes a move to scoot to his usual side of the mattress when you approach the bed, but pauses to look at you in confusion when you rest a gentle hand on his thigh to stop his movement. His face shows he doesn’t believe the affirmative hum you give in response to his question, especially since you’ve decided to crawl in between his legs and lay down on top of him with the side of your face resting atop his chest. You can’t say what’s on your mind while looking at him. The words won’t come out. 

His arms reflexively wrap around you, giving you that comfort you needed, making you remember he’s a safe space for you, no matter what. 

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” he asks. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Positive.” Here goes. “I’ve… I’ve just been thinking about something you said.”

The hum Donghyuck lets out to urge you to continue talking vibrates the side of your face in a soothing way. You reach behind you to grab one of his hands and slip your fingers in between his own, lightly pressing your palms together, looking at how perfectly they fit together. Without thought, Donghyuck squeezes your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a quick kiss on your knuckles that prevents your next words from coming out. You’re left to watch your joint hands fall beside you atop the mattress.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” He asks when you don’t keep talking. You’re not typically this affectionate unless something is bothering you or you’re drunk, so it’s no surprise that’s his initial thought. “Did I take something too far?”

This time he gets a head shake from you. “I’ve been thinking about what you said at the restaurant earlier…”

“Which part? About your ex? Should I not have brought him up?”

“About my curiosity.”

You may not know the extent of what he’s told your mutual friend, but you can guess that Donghyuck is physically attracted to you at the very least, and even if he doesn’t have romantic feelings, you’re almost positive now that there was truth behind his words from earlier. So, you’ll take what you can get.

It goes silent once again as he thinks about what you’re referring to. Once a few long moments pass, you glance up at him through your lashes, catching the unsure expression he sports. He doesn’t know how to process that, doesn’t know what your vague ass is getting at. 

Your anxiety has dragged this out too far. 

“I’m curious, Hyuck.” When it’s clear he still doesn’t fully believe your words, you sit up and leisurely shuffle your way up his legs until your knees cage his hips in and gently sit down on his lap. An inquiring brow lifts at your new position, yet his free hand slides up from your knee to the middle of your thigh like it belongs there. “You said you’ll give me what I need if I’d let you, right?”

“Right…” He trails off when you guide his hand under his shirt on you in between your legs, giving him an ample amount of time to snatch it away from you, but he doesn’t. His attention goes back and forth between your face and the hand you’re controlling until you cup his hand so he can feel how serious you are, the tips of his fingers lightly pressing against your covered entrance. Both of your breaths hitch, Donghyuck’s nostrils flare, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, and his fingers tighten around your own. You guess he understands now. “So you want me to eat you out?” 

You nod. Just hearing him ask you so directly makes your hips involuntarily grind down. 

His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, putting more pressure behind his fingertips. The beginning of a smile threatens to lift the corner of his mouth at the heavy exhale you release. 

He laughs incredulously, sitting up with his grip now on both of your hips. When you’re lifted off of his lap, you internally panic for a millisecond, thinking you may have misinterpreted where this was going, but then you’re on your back and he’s in between your legs, kneeling before you. 

“And this isn’t a joke?” 

You shake your head.

He crawls back until he lies on his stomach, now at eye level with the wet spot that’s turned the seat of your panties dark. You whimper under your breath at the sight of his face peeking up from between your legs. It’s been a thought more times than you can count, but none of the short lived fantasies that you always forced out of the front of your mind come close to right now, especially the look on his face when he pulls the cotton to the side.

Your best friend groans to himself. “Knew you had a pretty pussy.”

“Please stop talking,” you say around a laugh of embarrassment, though the compliment makes you clench around nothing.

Even though Donghyuck chuckles under his breath, he doesn’t say another word like you expect him to. Instead, he presses open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs before he gives your clit a long, sweet one. His tongue laps long stripes up your slit, coating the wet muscle in your slick before the tip slowly flicks against your nub, up and down in a way that brings a whimper out your chest. He groans again, and then your panties are pulled down your legs quickly before his hands hook behind your knees and open you up for him even more, giving him the space to fully indulge himself. 

Donghyuck eats your pussy in a calculatedly messy way. With the audible moans that slip in between his loud slurps, you realize just how much he’s enjoying himself, that this for his pleasure just as much as it is for yours. Your head falls back and you moan pathetically at the realization and at how he sucks on your clit with the perfect amount of suction, unable to put energy into straining your neck anymore, so you rest against the pillows to continue watching him in awe. 

“Fuck,” you moan, threading your fingers into his hair, needing something to hold onto when a finger breaches your entrance and slowly slides in. One turns into two after a minute, slipping in easily thanks to your arousal and his saliva, his fingertips just barely kissing the sweet spot within you to have you feeling good but craving more. They pump into you at a lazy pace, your best friend’s focus leaning more towards sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking the tip of his tongue up and down the nub in a way that has you pulling his face even closer and canting your lower half up. 

Hips roll in fluid movements to ride his tongue and fingers, fingers gripping his honey colored locks tightly to not only keep him still, but to keep yourself grounded as well. You don’t want to come too soon, but your hips move on their own accord to chase the orgasm that you can already taste. 

But with one last harsh suckle on your clit, Donghyuck comes off of you, a loud smack echoing throughout his room. You let go of his hair begrudgingly, allowing him to come back up and lift your left leg up, hand still hooked under the bend of your knee as he rises up to face you again. He’s looking down at you with so much desire with the bottom half of his face glistening. The change in angle has his fingertips pushing against the spongy spot inside of you rhythmically and your jaw drops, dry pants escaping your mouth in a gradually increasing pace, face scrunched up.

“Right here?”

“Yes,” you repeat like a mantra. orgasm building up faster now, the pleasure and pressure heightening until your walls clamp down on his skilled fingers as he urges you to come for him, voice pitching before it’s just whispers and gasps of the same affirmation and his name. 

“That’s it,” Donghyuck praises, mindfully pressing the tips of his fingers against that spot a bit harder to help you ride out your climax. He wipes his mouth against the fabric covering his shoulder then kisses are pressed to your opened mouth, licks delivered to your lip that hangs low in pleasure. 

Hand gripping the wrist between your thighs, you halt his movements, but tilt your chin up to fully return his kisses, experimental pecks merging into sensual slides before your tongues are acquainted, the taste of you transferring to your mouth. You groan deeply, sucking on his tongue. 

Your free hand firmly grabs his bulge over his pants and you let out an impressed, needy moan at the discovery of how big and heavy he feels in your palm. He laughs, rolling his hips into your hand. 

“You want that, too?”

“Mhm.” Tongues circle around one another leisurely, allowing you to divide your focus on the wet kiss and tugging his pajama pants off, only getting them right under his ass before going back to his hard dick that bobs in anticipation. “Want you inside me.”

You brush your hand across his tip to gather precum then wrap your fingers around his thick cock, dragging your fist up and down. He lets you do this for a while, his breath getting heavier, the harsh breaths fanning against the wetness left on your neck in the wake of his opened-mouthed kisses. Legs wrap around his hips in an attempt to pull his lower body down flush against yours so you can guide him to your entrance and finally feel him inside of you, but your plans are put to a halt just when his tip rubs against your wet slit. 

“Wait a second.”

The complaint on the tip of your tongue is silenced by the peck Donghyuck gives your lips before he pushes himself up and off the bed. Your eyes drink up the sight of him pushing his bottoms all the way down and kicking them aside. 

“Condom?”

You shake your head. He’s sat through your complaints about the effects of the birth control you’re on and the two of you share practically everything with one another, down to test results. You just want him back on top of you and in you with no more barriers, and the message is conveyed by the grabby hands you do, rushing him to come back to you. Chuckling at your antics, Donghyuck complies, bed dipping under his weight. Sat back on his haunches, he spreads your legs back open then pulls you down the bed closer to him, caging his hips in with your legs.

“Grab it.” Eagerly, you reach down in between both of you, licking your dry lips once you feel his weight again. You get to go through with your plan from before he got up, bringing his tip to your fluttering, awaiting hole. Your arousal coats him as you slide the head of his dick up and down your slit, unintentionally teasing yourself and him in the midst of coating him enough for an easy slip in, and he gets a bit impatient, telling you, “go ahead, put it in.”

You do as told, biting your lip at the sensation of him breaching your entrance. 

It’s hard for either of you to look away from where your bodies connect as he gently pushes his hips forward. His thrusts start shallow, only dipping in as far as his tip goes before his hips retract then repeat a few times. 

“Such a pretty, tight pussy,” your best friend praises in a hiss, gradually sinking deeper. “Wanted to feel you for so long.”

Even if you could find the words to say in the midst of pleasure, you can’t really say much because you’ve wanted him like this and more for probably even longer. It doesn’t matter, though, because here you are, underneath him, being looked at like you hung the stars yourself as the expression gets mirrored right back to him. His hands find yours and bring them above your head, fingers interlocking as he presses your joint hands into the pillow, his body leaning down to hover over you in the process. Eyes flicker over your face to find nothing but bliss written over your features.

With a fluid roll of his hips, he’s completely sheathed. You gasp as he curses under his breath, his girth stretching you out so good while your walls suck him in even more. 

“Good?” he asks, already sounding out of breath.

You nod, swallowing thickly, “Mhm.”

“Yeah?” His pace gradually builds, his attention dropping down to how your teeth dig into your bottom lip then further to your breasts that bounce in sync with his thrusts. “Talk to me. Let me know how you feel.”

“Feels good, Hyuck.” you abide easily, the flutter of your eyes and the pinch of the front of your brows only emphasizing your words. “Didn’t know you were this–mm– this big.”

“Want your eyes on me,” he tells you gently, hips slowing down a bit so it’s not as difficult for you to listen and open your eyes for him. You’re sure you could get convinced to do anything he wants when he talks to you in such a tone that makes your heart flutter and stomach knot. ”There you go. Keep those pretty eyes on me, okay?”

Another wave of arousal courses through you, keening in response. Your grip on his hands tighten gradually as Donghyuck rolls his hips harder into yours.

There’s not a single thought behind your glazed over eyes. You’re honestly not even looking at him anymore, more so spaced out because it’s hard to focus on his handsome face with the amount of pleasure he’s making your body feel. The soundtrack of the smacks of skin against skin as well as the slick noises of his dick continuously dipping in and out of you are background noise to both of your bated breaths and moans that slip out shamelessly. His tip kisses just the right places and the longer his intentional aim is accurate, the tighter the coil in your stomach gets. The wetter your cunt gets.

“Baby.” He groans at the feeling of your walls beginning to flutter around him. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he admits around a laugh, the sound getting cut off by his own moan when you clench even harder. He calls you babe in passing all the time but to be called his baby? 

“Me either,” you confess with a whine. “‘m close.”

Donghyuck buries his face into your neck, hardly concealing his louder sounds of pleasure. His hips pick up pace, his body hunching over your own the closer he gets to reaching his climax. You wiggle one hand out of his grip to reach down and grab his ass, attempting to pull him into you even more. 

“Want you to come in me,” you moan in his ear. His grip on your hand tightens at your words, his thrusts getting harder. “Fill me up. Please.”

“Need you to come with me,” he manages to grunt out, sneaking his now free hand in between your bodies. A few swipes to your clit does it and the tight, rapid clamping of your walls triggers his climax, Donghyuck completely sheathing himself inside of you as your legs shake from the all-encompassing pleasure. His warm cum releases in spurts as his deep groan vibrates your chest and neck. 

-

It takes a while for the pair of you to catch your breaths, yet it feels like he pulls away and out of you too soon. Your hole clenches around nothing as he climbs off the bed, Donghyuck momentarily looking around the floor to find his pajama pants that he quickly slips back on.

Without a word, he’s off to his bathroom and you hear the sound of running water start and stop before he’s back in the room with a rag in hand. The cloth is warm when it makes contact with your sensitive cunt, but it’s soft and comforting as it collects his cum, the pressure behind his swipes so gentle you can’t help but look at him like a lovesick fool. 

The kiss on your forehead you receive once he’s cleaned you to his liking doesn’t help one bit. 

“Come on, gonna start the shower for you.” He holds a hand out for you to take, steadying you on your feet before leading you to his ensuite bathroom. 

The image the mirror presents to you makes your skin heat up even more than it already was. Both of your lips are red and a little puffier than usual, both half naked with skewed clothing and messy hair, looking exactly what finally crossing the line of your friendship is expected to look like. Donghyuck notices the shy expression that slowly takes over your face. 

“Hush,” you say non-threateningly. 

He laughs again, lifting his free hand in defense. “Didn’t say anything.”

You watch as he twists the knobs in his shower to get the right temperature, as he grabs a couple of towels and wash clothes out of the linen closet and sets them down on the sink. And when his back is facing you when he’s headed out of the bathroom, your heart sinks pathetically. You aren’t ready for the moment to end yet.

“Join me?” you ask, stripping out of his shirt. His eyes lock onto your chest, head absentmindedly nodding as steps out of his pants and into the shower behind you. Even with the sensitivity and pulsing between your legs and the fact that you’re showering with him for the first time ever, everything feels surreal. He just devoured you. He just came in you. He just made you come multiple times. 

Your name being called softly takes you out of your head. 

“Is that all you needed?”

You hum in question, not sure what he’s referring to.

“Did you just want to satisfy your curiosity then go back to normal?”

You pause in squeezing body wash onto your wash cloth. Yes, you knew the conversation would be had, but now’s not the time you thought it would come. 

Talking about this in the morning after a good night’s sleep would’ve been preferred.

“Not exactly.” You reply lamely after trying and failing to find the right words. “Did you want to go back to normal?”

“No.” He replies a lot more straightforwardly. 

You let out a silent breath of relief. “No?”

Hands on your waist gently turn your body so that you’re facing Donghyuck. You guess he got tired of talking to the back of your head. The water is somehow a lot hotter on your back but it’s hard to pay attention to the heat when his next words come out. 

“I want you,” your best friend confesses and it’s music to your ears. “But we can do this casual sex thing if you want.”

“I don’t want that.” You slide your hands up his chest, the water helping the slip along the way, to loosely wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your soft chest into his firm torso, fulfilling the urge to be as close to him as possible after hearing your attraction and feelings are reciprocated. “I want you, too.”

“Good,” he hums, his arms encircling your waist to pull you flush against him. “I was gonna slowly wither away if I couldn’t make you mine after tonight.”

Lip caught between your teeth, you fight the goofy smile that wants to take up half of your face at his dramatics. God, you’ve imagined this moment so many times but the reality is so different, yet you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Make me yours, huh?”

He cranes his neck down, nose brushing against yours. 

“Will you be mine?” He mirrors the huge smile that wins the battle and lights your face up, nose scrunching. “Yeah?”

“I’m yours, Hyuck.”

first time writing for hyuck so i feel like i’m going to throw up posting this :D feel free to send feedback <3

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 12: Love is... The tea he brings me without prompt when I’m sick (Prompt by anon)

wc: 740 | Rated: G | cw: None

Tags: Sick Fic, Eddie is Being a Total Shit, Wayne Munson, Care Giving Steve Harrington

A Case of the Sniffles

Steve knows that Eddie is sick when he knocks on the Munson’s door, its accompanying flyscreen rattling under his knuckles.

“I’ve grown weak during the night,” Eddie had informed during a too-early-for-the-both-of-them phone call, “Come quickly, my dearest King. For I fear I shan’t make it to sundown.”

But, considering the expression Wayne greets him with, Steve begins to think that Eddie’s dramatics weren’t just a ploy to get him over here.

“You visitin’ Ed?” Wayne asks, throwing his work jacket over his shoulder in haste as he steps over the threshold.

“He called me,” Steve supplies, earning the rarest of laughs from the permanently grumpy elder Munson.

But Wayne quickly stops, clearing his throat and feigning seriousness. And by the look of the hurried glance he gives his truck, Steve suspects the man is happy to be relieved of caring for what sounds like the world’s biggest crybaby.

“Good luck, kid,” Wayne says, patting Steve on the back before quickly ducking his head back in the door, “Eddie! Steve’s here for ya! There’s chicken soup leftover in the fridge!”

There’s an unintelligible whining sound from inside that leaves Wayne wincing as he ventures down the front concrete slab steps.

Steve swears the man dashes to his truck before he can even get out a goodbye.

He heads inside, sighing as he opens the front door.

It creeks away as he steps over the threshold, the sound alerting Eddie to his presence. His boyfriend's dishevelled form lifts slightly from his sick bed on the couch where he is surrounded by tissues and crochet blankets. The coffee table is even more crowded than usual, littered with discarded cups and mugs. Typically Wayne would flip out about this mess but he’s already left the place for dust.

“Steve,” Eddie rasps, raising a limp hand before letting it fall, “Come closer. I fear the light is fading.”

But Steve just snorts a laugh and heads for the kitchen.

“Eds, you have a bad case of the sniffles.”

“I am ill!” Eddie argues, calling after him with complete clarity.

He looks back to find his couch-ridden boyfriend flapping back his blanket, sending a cascade of used tissues flying onto the floor. Eddie pouts, frowning back at him like a disgruntled kitten.

“Just…” Steve begins, reaching for a clean coffee mug on the dish rack, “Give me a minute to fix you something.”

“What is it?”

Again, Eddie’s voice doesn’t have an ounce of sickness behind it.

Steve rolls his eyes, “Just trust me, okay?”

There’s a fussy grunt but Eddie flops back down on the couch without any more protesting, which thankfully gives Steve enough time to locate the teabags, boil the electric kettle and add a dollop of honey to the mug. He makes quick work of fixing a cup of tea, setting it down after making room on the coffee table.

“Drink,” he commands, nodding to the cup.

Eddie grumbles, side-eyeing the mug.

“What is it?” he asks tentatively, folding his arms underneath his readjusted blankets.

“Tea with honey,” Steve explains, lowering onto the edge of the couch.

Eddie falls silent for a long moment, very obviously stifling a smile despite otherwise not looking like he is about to budge an inch to sit up.

“Can you hold the mug for me?” he asks, with a smile that appears just as mischievous as his bright and sunny regular self.

“Fine,” Steve relents.

And honestly? Up close, Eddie does look sick. Though still not enough to warrant the theatrics.

His skin is paler than usual, his nose reddened like he has been out in the snow too long. His hair is a little greasy too as his bangs stick out every which way, making him look like what Steve assumes the townsfolk of Hawkins were thinking of months back when everyone was convinced Eddie was a wild criminal.

They just never got a look at Eddie's impossibly cute dimples...

Steve picks up the mug and gestures for Eddie to sit – surely he can manage it. And his partner does so, even though he grumbles and gripes all the way.

Eddie gulps back god knows what, all gross and throaty before puckering his lips.

“Kisses?” he requests, sniffling.

“Alright,” Steve shrugs.

He leans forward to press a quick kiss to his boyfriend's lips, earning a contented hum as he pulls back.

“Thanks for the tea,” Eddie smiles, taking the mug in his cold hands.

[billskeis]

pls create clingy tom fluffs

ᡣ𐭩 clingy tom while sick

it was two in the afternoon, you lay in bed. you put down your phone in hopes that the throbbing headache you’ve had since last night went away. you caught a cold most likely from staying out clubbing, maybe you shouldn’t have taken that stranger’s drink.

asswipe, you thought, who goes to the club sick?

“baby?? you awake? i’m back!” you hear a shout from afar with the noises of a door shutting and the rustling of plastic bags. with the shuffling of shoes assumingely being taken off, your boyfriend enters your bedroom of your parents house. they’re out on vacation and agreed to let tom stay in the meanwhile.

his face immediately drops when he sees you in your state. tissues everywhere, eye bags accompanied your face, your nose was suuuper red, which was really embarrassing but tom thought that was cute.

sweating, many blankets lay top of you as this was his way of making you feel better by letting you ‘sweat it out.’

“oh schatzi look at you, and you insisted we go out today!” he sets down the bags gently near the foot of your bed, sitting down on the mattress that dips with his weight, “tom! it’s okay! we can still go out just let me take a hot steaming shower and get ready quickly—i wanna go see that movie,” he shakes his head at you and pushes you back down to lie down as you attempt to get up.

he ruffles the head on top of your head, “as much as i love you and i wish we can go out, you’re in no state to..” he lays his head on your legs, the plush blanket cushioning him even further. “but tom—“ “no baby! i’m not letting you get up until you’re one hundred percent better, yeah?” he now grabs one of your hands to play with your fingers, admiring how they look.

you scoff, he’s being awfully stubborn for someone who can’t seem to not touch you.

“tom! get up please! i don’t want you getting sick,” “i’m not moving, your lap is comfortable.. i thought you weren’t even sick,” he snorts. rolling your eyes, you sniffle, feeling your nose becoming runny, you reach to grab a tissue to blow your nose.

“don’t get up. i’ll do it,” he gets up as fast as his body lets him and grabs a tissue from the box on your bedside table. holding the tissue up to your nose, you blow, he pinches the tissue to catch all that came out. “better?” he asks, you nod obligingly.

that was pretty nasty but oh well whatever floats his boat i guess.

he then bends down to grab something from the bag, opening the lid, he shakes a pill into his hand. “take this, i know you don’t like these but i at least got the strawberry flavour you liked,” you pouted, staring at him.

ingesting the pill, he quickly holds the glass of water to your mouth to drink it. knowing that pills are particularly hard for you to take, he knows that by drinking water after conditions your body to take it in easier.

the pill was sweet, yet the flavour that lingered on your tongue was only for a second being washed by the water.

he kisses the side of your cheek, “good job pretty,” tom began taking of his sweater and swiftly entered the bed to cuddle beside you. “um hello? do you not remember what current state i’m in?” moving your head a bit, his arm snakes under the side of your neck to hold you closer to him, “relax i’m not going to get sick, you baby, just let me hold you.”

“wow cannot get enough of me huh, after the way you were dancing with me last night?” “you were super hot that night couldn’t help my self, plus, i’m only doing this because you’re weak and cute,” you scoff, is he serious? “yeah right.”

he laughs at you and just kisses your forehead, you then peak down to look at the many things he bought from his little trip. they were all your favourite snacks. medicines, tea bags, oh, and more medicine.

on a side note, being the twin who was basically immune and had to always take care of fragile bill, he has a known habit to panic and instead of asking for help, his stubborn ass buys everything in the store, gambling on which medicine to take and hoping for the best.

luckily for you, he had bill to teach him properly which ones to buy, but habits never die do they?

now you weren’t hungry or feeling snackish, so you just lay with tom, nuzzling your head into his chest. he’s warm, warm and comfortable, and you’re so grateful to have someone like him.

kissing the top of your forehead, he switches on your TV to put on a show the two of you both like. “i’m feeling better already,” “i’m glad baby, you’ll be back to shape in no time, well, because of me of course!”

that whole day, tom would not leave your side. even when you had to go to the bathroom. he’d sit inside the room until you finished and would wash your hands for you.

he says that the joint effort of doing it with you gets rid of the germs better.

this was just his excuse to keep touching you in some sort of way.

you enter the room with a bucket of cold water and a towel. setting it down, you soak the towel into the basin and ring out any excess. folding the towel to fit, you place the now cold compress onto tom’s forehead who’s laying in your bed.

“i told you, silly, that you’d get sick.” you shake your head in disapproval to see tom frown. he looks up at you even though it’s hard for him to keep his eyes open. now we did say tom barely ever gets sick, but once in a blue moon when he does, hits him HARD.

“what can i say? i can never get enough of you, need to be with you all the time,” “you’re corny,” “and you love it.”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Any Time You’re Ready

After another lousy date, Oliver’s parents remind him that love might be closer than he expects.

Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, embarrassing parents

A/N: Inspired by the Shawn Mendes song “When You’re Ready” because I’m obsessed with “What if my dad is right/When he says that you're the one”

~

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“G’night, Casey.”

The girl stepped into the green flames in the Wood family fireplace, called out her address, and was gone. As soon as the flames resumed their usual orange tint, Oliver turned around and strolled into the kitchen. He found his parents, sharing a slice of cake and sipping tea. Their heads snapped up as he walked in.

“So, what’d you guys think?” Oliver grinned as his parents.

“She seemed nice,” his mom answered with a shrug.

His dad nodded. “Yeah, Cadie seems like a nice girl.”

Oliver’s face fell. “Casey, Dad. Her name’s Casey.”

“Right, right.” His dad took a sip of tea, clearly not embarrassed by his mistake. “But what about-”

“Dad, stop,” Oliver groaned. He already knew what his dad was going to say; he said it every time Oliver showed interest in a new girl.

You and Oliver grew up next door to each other and had been best friends from the time you could walk. Going to Hogwarts only brought you closer together, with all the time you spent together both in and out of the classroom, practically attached at the hip. And both of your parents had been convinced for years that the two of you belonged together.

Oliver’s dad held up his hands in defense. “’m just saying, son. I don’t know why you bother going out with these other girls. You’ve already got a great girl right next door. You’ve been friends since you were born. And everyone knows a friendship like that is the foundation of a solid relationship. Just look at me and your mother.”

“Dad,” Oliver said slowly. “You asked Mum out on your very first day at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, and we were friends for the whole trip on the Hogwarts Express before that. Good foundation, like I said.”

“Right.” Oliver grabbed a tin of biscuits from the counter. “Well, ’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.” He waved at his parents and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

He should have been more surprised to find you lying on his bed, reading a book.

“How was your date?” you asked casually, eyes still on your book as he closed the door behind him.

“Fine,” he answered, crossing the room to close the window you had climbed through. He lied down next to you and opened the tin.

You took a cookie and shoved it in your mouth. “What do we think? Potential girlfriend?”

Oliver shrugged, helping himself to a cookie. “Probably not,” he admitted.

“It’s just as well,” you said, closing your book and tossing it on his nightstand. “She’s a bit of a dolt, if you ask me.”

A snort flew out of Oliver’s nose. “I don’t remember asking you.”

You elbowed him. “Well, you should’ve. I could’ve saved you a night of ‘Oh Oliver, you’re soooo funny, let me grab your muscles.’” You let out a fake high-pitched giggle and squeezed Oliver’s arm.

He warmed at your touch. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he had finally admitted it to himself when he was fourteen: Oliver Wood was in love with you. So for the last two years, he tried to act normal, like he wasn’t thinking about you every second of the day, like you were just his best friend and nothing else.

But laying on his bed with you right next to him made it really hard to pretend.

“You’re so mean,” he laughed, trying to sound even. “Casey’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah, but she’s not right for you.” You wrinkled your nose.

Oliver turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, facing you. “Oh, and you know what’s right for me?” he challenged.

You mirrored his pose, your nose close to his. “Of course I do. That’s what best friends are for.”

He felt a little tug on his stomach at the word friends. “Yeah, sure,” he scoffed, trying to play off the sting he’d felt every time you called him your friend over the last two years. “What about you? Any dates so far this summer?”

“A couple,” you admitted. “Nothing worth mentioning.” You flipped back onto your back, gazing at Oliver’s ceiling. “Why do we have so much trouble dating?”

Oliver stared at your profile, admiring the shape of your adorable nose and your perfect lips. “What d’you mean?”

“Well,” you sighed, “think about it. We’re both very good-looking, popular enough, definitely not idiots. Yet neither of us can get more than a couple dates out of a person. What gives?”

“Mmm.” Oliver thought a moment. He knew why none of his dates panned out, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you, the most beautiful and perfect girl he knew, didn’t have a boyfriend.

Not that he minded.

“It’s not like I don’t have theories,” you continued, ignoring Oliver’s non-response. “Personally, I think you’re just too good for any of the girls at school.” Oliver felt his cheeks go warm again. “As for me, I’m going to go ahead and blame you.” You turned your head and smiled at your best friend.

“Me?” he asked with a dry chuckle. “How do you manage to blame me for your lack of boyfriend?”

You shrugged. “Think about it. Boy, girl. Best friends. Boy is good-looking and could probably beat up most of the boys in our year.” You popped another cookie in your mouth. “So, no one wants to date his girl best friend.”

Oliver stared at you a moment. Despite the fact that he definitely did not want to see you all cozied up with any of the boys at school, he couldn’t help feeling bad. If you wanted a boyfriend, you should have one. He never wanted to get in the way of your happiness.

It was as though you could feel his guilt. “It’s alright though,” you assured him with that sweet smile you usually reserved for Oliver. “Not like any of those boys are worth my time anyways. You’re the only decent boy in our year honestly.”

“Oh really?” he asked in a teasing voice, as though his heart was not hammering. The two of you had been doing this a lot lately: compliments, teasing just this side of flirting, skittering around a line no one was quite willing to cross, playing a game of chicken neither of you was willing to lose.

Tonight, you were the one who broke first. “So what’d your parents think of Casey anyways?” Your eyes were back on the ceiling of Oliver’s room, following the wizards flying around his Puddlemere United poster.

“They thought she was nice,” he answered, following your gaze. “My dad’s just disappointed that she’s not-” Oliver stopped himself, his eyes darting back to you.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Not what? Smart?” A smirk played on your lips.

Oliver thought a moment. You weren’t a mean girl typically. You were sweet, and you had plenty of girlfriends. The only people you were mean about were… well, the girls Oliver dated. The gears turned in his head as he calculated the risk he was about to take.

“Well, not you,” he finally admitted. “Dad’s disappointed she’s not you.”

“Oh.” You blinked a few times. Oliver could see the rapid thinking behind your expression. “And… what about you?” You sat up and looked down at Oliver, all the playfulness gone from your eyes.

Oliver heaved himself up as well. “I… I mean…” He licked his lips and sighed. Just spit it out, he told himself. “Sometimes I wonder if my dad’s… right?”

“Right about what?” You fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt, a nervous habit Oliver knew well.

“He…” Oliver cleared his throat and took your hands in his. He saw your eyes flicker to them before meeting his gaze again. “He says that you’re the one.” Oliver winced, preparing himself for rejection and the end of your friendship, the thing he’d been dreading for two years.

“The one?” you echoed, your hands still in Oliver’s.

He nodded. “You know. The one.”

The smirk playing on your lips broke some of the tension between you. “What would that entail? If I was the one, I mean.”

His fears melted slightly at the sight of your small grin. “Well, it would probably start… with this.” Oliver closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against yours.

Much to his relief, you kissed him back, letting go of his hands and wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands settled on your hips. He could taste your bubblegum flavored Chapstick, the one he borrowed annoyingly often, and you could taste the chocolate from the biscuits that now sat forgotten near the foot of the bed.

When Oliver let go, he didn’t bother trying to play cool; instead, he grinned from ear to ear, not caring how goofy he looked.

Likewise, you couldn’t help the giggle that tumbled out of your mouth, your hands still on Oliver’s shoulders. “Starts with that, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s just the beginning.” Oliver leaned forward again, his mind racing with excitement. He laid back, pulling you on top of him-

“I think you mean that’s the end of the night,” came a voice from the door neither of you noticed opening.

Color rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled to sit back up, pushing Oliver off you. “Hey Mr. Wood,” you managed, as if he caught you making out with his son all the time.

Your best friend’s dad nodded pointedly. “You should probably head back out that window, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow. When you use the front door.”

With one last awkward smile to Oliver, you jumped off the bed and opened the window, clambering out the way you’d done millions of times before. Trying to be a gentleman (especially in front of his dad), Oliver watched carefully as you climbed down the tree by his window, tiptoed across his backyard, through the gate between your houses, and through your first-story window, where you disappeared after a quick wave in his direction. When Oliver turned around with that still dopey smile, his dad was still in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

“Told ya so, son.”

[buckyalpine]

Missing 2

Here is a silly part 2 to the silly first fic here 

Fluff, Mob Bucky is an adorable goof, this is worse than the first fic okay. I’m openly acknowledging this is ridiculous and stupid but I’m posting it anyway. 

“Why the fuck is he still here” 

Bucky narrowed his eyes, watching him carefully, hating the way he moved with such suave. Who the fuck does he think he is?! It had been days of him coming around, pretending his intentions were innocent but Bucky knew better. He had been in the game long enough to be able to read someone's character. 

No.

There was nothing innocent about this. 

He was after his pretty baby and that wasn’t okay. 

“If you have such a problem with him, go do something about it” Sam snorted, watching the mob boss huff, shaking his head.

“I can’t just tell him to fuck off” Bucky grumbled, ready to give him the finger. “Even though he should, I don’t want him 10 feet near my princess” 

“I’m sure if you stare at him long enough, he’ll take the hint”

Bucky glared at him once more for good measure before smiling down at the purring ball of fur that pawed at his leg, demanding to be picked up. She had dragged your sweater into the room, dropping it by his feet, giving him a pointed look. 

“Hi baby” He picked up his sassy little fur baby, giving her a few kisses and scratching her head, cocking an eyebrow at her seeing the sweater she brought with her. “You miss her huh, maybe I should ask her out soon?”

“Merp” Alpine nudged her head against his chest while Sam shook his head, running a hand over his face. 

“For fucks sake, at least listen to the cat and ask her out” 

“He’s right” Steve smirked at his friend, snorting at the ridiculous sight of Bucky cooing at his cat, “Stop worrying about him and actually go ask her out”

Bucky thought for a moment, he had to do it right. You were sweet. Kind. Summer and flowers. His mind was all over the place, he couldn't stop thinking about you but would you even want to go out with someone like him? 

You sipped your tea, cozy in an oversized t-shirt and some fuzzy socks, snuggled under a blanket with your favorite tv show pulled up. You smiled sadly at the empty corner Alpine liked to snuggle in; even if she was with you for a few days, you missed her purrs and silky fur nuzzled against you. Then there was her owner. It shouldn’t have been legal for someone that attractive to have a cute white fluffy kitten, the combination of the two overloaded all your senses. Your mind continuously bounced between the both of them, not sure who you wanted to snuggle with more. Both with the same mischievous blue eyes and sassy attitude to match. You blinked hearing the doorbell ring; no one ever visited you at this hour. Then it rang again. 

You ran to your door, abandoning your tea and Netflix, squealing when you saw your sweet little fur baby sitting in a basket of red roses, a small note tucked onto the side. She hopped out of the basket and into your arms, nudging her nose onto yours. 

“Now how did you get here baby” you giggled, looking up to see a flustered Bucky on your drive way, waiting hopefully for you to read the note. You pulled the note out, smiling at the beautiful handwriting, biting back a smile as you read. 

Thank you for taking such good care of me, I missed you. I sleep in your sweater every single night. I wanted to see you again. 

-Alp 

PS: Will you go out on a date with my daddy?

You grinned, feeling your face heat up, looking up at the blushing mob boss. He made his way over while you kept Alpine tucked in your arms; the ball of fur making a show of snuggling in your hold. Bucky shook his head at his cat’s antics; if only he was as adorable as she was. 

“Sorry” Bucky blushed sheepishly, his heart racing when you took the basket of flowers and invited him inside. “I-I didn’t get to properly thank you for taking care of Alpine” 

“I was happy just to look after her” You smiled, feeling giddy over the fact that he was in your house again. “But I’d love to go out with you” 

That was all he needed to hear, kissing your cheek before leaving, his mind already thinking about where to take you. 

“I’ll see you soon doll” 

*****

Bucky made sure he gave you the sweetest date possible, taking you out to a quiet diner where he spent the evening looking at you with heart eyes. His heart fluttered over your sweetness and he had to mentally restrain himself from cupping your cheeks and kissing you every time you looked at him. What the hell was wrong with him. 

The first date turned into a second date. Then a third. Most recently, he invited you over so he could make you brunch and eat in the large patio in his garden. Bucky’s heart started tp leap again, looking at his pretty doll set out strawberries on a plate and carrying a jug of lemonade.  He didn’t know what to do with himself when you brought him flowers from your flower shop to brighten his home, he already knew he was going to keep that bouquet preserved forever. 

You both finished eating, curled up on Bucky’s couch for some cuddles, his hand softly stroking your hair, stopping abruptly when he saw movement by the window. You sat up when you felt his body stiffen, looking up to see him staring at someone through the window. 

“Fuck, he’s back again” His chest rumbled against you, moving you over as he stalked to the window, frowning. 

“Who” You couldn’t see anyone from where you were sitting, nearly collapsing on the floor when you joined Bucky’s side. Now you knew exactly where Alpine learned her dramatics. 

“Him” Bucky growled at a stray black cat that slinked around his garden, purring as soon as his green eyes landed on Alpine who was basking near the windowsill. 

“It’s a cat Bucky”

“That’s not a cat, that’s a punk” He narrowed his eyes at the cat while he sauntered over, his tail swishing about, gracefully hopping on the ledge, his nose nudging against the glass, right where Alpine sat. “She’s too good for you”

“Oh my god” You wheezed, shaking your head while Steve walked by, stopping when he saw Bucky by the window. It had become a weekly occurrence, he was used to the scene before him, not that it was ever any less ridiculous. 

“Is he beefing with the cat again” Steve snorted while you burst out laughing, looking at Bucky staring off with the cat, his precious baby tucked in his arms. 

“Does this happen often?”

“Mhm, has he given him the finger yet?” 

“Shut up Steve” 

“He just wants a home, I think it’s sort of sweet” You nudged Bucky while he shook his head. Your heart melted, looking at Alpine trying to wiggle out of Bucky’s hold, inching towards the black cat that sat outside who was peering into the warm house. 

“I don’t trust him” 

“C’mon, he’s a little like you” Bucky frowned at you while you giggled, cupping his  face, pulling him down to kiss his lips, smiling when you felt him melt into your hold, his hands coming down to hold your waist. “He’s just a little misunderstood. Handsome on the outside and sweet on the inside”

Bucky’s ears perked up, a smirk dancing on his lips, pulling you closer. 

“You think I’m handsome and sweet?” 

“Bucky!” You rolled your eyes, “That’s what you got from what I just said?” You squeaked when he lifted you in his arms, carrying you off to his room, deciding he’d deal with the punk outside later. There were more important things that required his attention. 

“We have all night, tell me more my pretty doll” 

A few years later *

“I told you Alp would be with the groomsmen” Sam grinned, holding the white ball of fluff while Steve stood by Bucky. Alpine purred, a large silky bow replacing her collar. 

“That’s only because y/n has Bucky jr. on her side” The black cat purred in your best friends arms, his green eyes blinking at Alpine and then at Bucky, a little bowtie around his neck. 

“She named him Toothless, not Bucky Jr” Bucky groaned, shaking his head at the green eyes that blinked at him, he may have given into you adopting him but he still didn’t fully trust his intentions. 

“You love him” You giggled at your soon to be husband, waiting for his lips to press onto yours, ready to start a new chapter together along with your fur babies. 

“Hm, not as much as I love you” He whispered, pulling you into his arms as soon as he’s told he can kiss the bride, pouring every ounce of his love into the kiss. 

Who would have thought his little fur baby going on an adventure would bring him the greatest love of his life. 

****

*Of course when he does propose to you, there’s basically two proposals. One is perfect, romantic, intimate. Just the two of you, his sweet words, soft kisses. It was beautiful and you loved it but he already had your heart when you first feel 4 little paws on the bed earlier that day, a wet nose nudging you awake. There’s a new note attached to her collar, not a whole lot written on it but the few words bring tears to your eyes. 

Will you be my mama? 

To which you immediately say yes and gasp when you see a little ring on Alpine’s collar. Bucky smiles by the door, striding over to pull you into his lap, his heart filling with warmth when you attack him with 100′s of kisses. 

Alpine purrs proudly; she always knew you’d be the perfect mommy for her daddy. 

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[11rosebunny]

When you first meet them (SHISHITOREN)

Tomiyama Choji

Togame had to hold him back from making you feel even more uncomfortable by his spontaneous, pocket of joy, personality.

You had bumped into the short beige-haired man-child in the section of the cold refrigerated isle of drinks, without thinking of your surroundings you had picked up the last milk tea bottled drink and didn't notice the sounds of hurried footsteps rushing to where you stood.

Your head turned to the side to be face to face with a small boy around your age blinking at you weirdly. And he wasn't the one that thought his staring was weird, it was you who thought that. Awkwardly, you began walking away but he continued to stare at you, regardless if you kept trying to avoid his eye contact.

Shortly after, a tall black-haired man walked past you as if he was in a hurry, he wore the same uniform as the shorter guy.

"There you are, jeez. Quit running off like that you're gonna make me have back problems..." A strong deep voice lingered past your ears as you walked away further, then suddenly, a loud boast of a higher but boyish voice belted out.

"Look, you made me lose the last drink of the milk tea!" Your nose twitched naturally, and eventually, your pace came to halt causing the two boys to peak their heads up at you. From there, you saw that the shorter one of the two had been pointing at your figure but was slapped away the second you turned your back to them by the much taller male out of respect.

Shyly, you spoke up, "Do you want the drink then?" You asked, you didn't mind giving it away, there were other drinks you could choose from.

Moments after, the unknown boy around your height jogged up to you as you held out the drink for him which he gladly took, "Thanks a lot kind lady!" His mouth turned into a smile which shifted his entire face. You could tell it was his most prominent feature.

"It's alright," You said softly brushing it off. He then hummed causing you to grow confused. The black-haired man began walking up to the two of you as the boy in front of you continued speaking.

"...Since you gave me this, I'll buy you a drink so it's 50/50!" Taken a back, your eyes widened slightly as an unsure flat smile appeared on your face, even though the atmosphere around you was more than calm, it was starting to rise with his expressive personality.

"I- okay," But before you knew it, the pressure of your right arm grew shallow when you had realized he now began dragging you all over the store making black-haired boy panic for your safety.

Once you finally choose a random drink the two strange boys encouraged you to take so he could pay, the three of you left the convince store.

"Thank you for the drink," You smiled softly looking at the beige-haired male who had already eagerly untwisted the milk tea bottle drink while the taller male drank his ramune drink.

"No problem, would you like to join me and Togame now?"

"Eurghk—?!" Your voice choked being surprised at how open and extroverted, not even having any shame when asking you out for the first time. From the sides, the two of you heard a snorting sound causing your heads to now place your attention on the tall male.

"That's not very polite y'know," He started off as he took another sip from his drink, "Asking out a girl without even getting to know her name? You should know better than that, Choji," He teased.

The beige-haired boy blinked, "Ohh, you're right!" His head turned towards you, "My name is Tomiyama Choji, and you are?"

The two boys noticed how you paused, assuming you were either in shock or still processing what was going on. After a few seconds, you finally replied.

"My name is [Full Name]."

Jo Togame

"I'm so sorry, please forgive my three idiot friends," The man before you had multiple veins all over his head with a strained smile while holding each of them by the backs of their clothing, making them raise in the air like two cats that had just been separated from fighting each other.

Earlier, you went to go out to buy an exclusive ingredient that was found in the Shishitoren area. The place was notorious for being a place of delinquents that trash and vandalize everything. Your journey there was making you almost regret going out of Kotoha as a favour to get the poor girl some groceries.

Stepping in there, you felt like a cat in a lions den, multiple stores were graffitied, as well as many of the townsfolk had hardcore personas.

As you were walking down the street clutching on your side back to quickly pull out your keys if anyone came to threaten you, what you weren't expecting was a group of three guys jumping out of no where scaring the living shit out of your soul, you let out a blood curdling scream as you fell to the floor shakily.

"O-oh, crap! Was our approach maybe to intense?" A boy with one side of his head shaved while his wavy hair fell to the side suddenly spoke out, looking back at his friend who was urgently biting his nails. His hair was set in a man bun. From the side of them stood another boy about the same age with beige-hair.

"I-I don't know...." The nervous guy said.

"Pfshh, everything is fine! We're Shishitoren now, we now help those who are in need just like Bofurin!" You heart began to pound, if these boys said they were trying to help you, why in the world did you feel like you were just getting jumped.

Without even getting to protest, the shortest out of the three lifted you up as you stared back at him flabbergasted on what just happened to you, "We are students from Shishitoren and we will protect you!"

You stood still on spot, trying to even process what was happening, you came to understand why Kotoha willingly sent you off to their territory with no remorse. Was this what she meant by saying their base was no longer a threat towards anyone?

You looked at each of them one by one, one of them stared at you trying his best to seem less scary, the one beside him was biting his nails obviously scared of who knows what, and finally, the one that had helped you up was staring back at you as if he was a puppy trying to get you to play fetch with him. Your brain was going to explode in any second now.

Suddenly, loud footsteps of wooden sandals hitting the floor marched their way over to the scene, and before you knew it, the wavy-haired man and the nervous boy were received a punch on their heads before he roughly picked up the two by the back of their shirts making the one in the middle widen his eyes. Even though he didn't look back, it seemed like he could already tell who approached them.

Your eyes lingered behind the boy before you and then you had made eye contact with an extremely tall male, with short black-hair, and downturns eyes with a faux sympathy atmosphere surrounding him.

"I'm so sorry, please forgive my three idiot friends."

Afterwards, you witnessed the man scolding the three of them in the middle of the street.

"Just because we changed our ways doesn't mean everyone will automatically view us differently!" He yelled in the street without much care.

Once he was done scolding and even threading them all, the shortest of the two lead them in defeat to go back to their turf. The boy then sighed with his back facing you until he realized you were watching the whole thing.

From there, he was now face to face with you. His hair was cut into a low taper, his eyes were downturn, as for his outfit resembled a bit of a more up to date monk outfit based on his traditional wooden sandals and airy baggy pants.

"Ah, I apologize again if any of us had startled you, we were currently patrolling the town to help people, turns out the first day was a total blow..."

You laughed at his sarcasm, "...It's okay, I was just a bit confused, I didn't know Shishitoren had changed," This time he laughed.

"Well, it's been a long time since, now May I ask what a person from Bofurin is doing here?"

"Ah, just passing by to get some groceries in a near by shop," He then hummed, before checking his watch and then where the sun set before looking back at you.

"I suppose I could guide you for the time being," He smiled while turning his body sideways, indicating you to walk beside him.

[helaelaemond]

Little Games That We Play - Billy Washington x reader

Pairing:  Billy Washington x semi-girlfriend!reader (?)

Word count: 2k

Summary: you pick Billy up from the police station after he's smashed up a butchers' shop. You're sick of him, but not so sick you can say no to getting fucked.

AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, penetrative sex, clothed sex.

Content warning(s): rough sex, mentions of Islamophobia, very brief domestic violence (reader slaps Billy)

Rating: E

For Ez, one of my beloved muses.

You march out of the police station with anger in you.

"Sunglasses?" Billy asks as he strides to keep up with you.

You pull them from your bag and shove them to his chest. "A halal butchers?" you ask, your voice full of disgust. He doesn't answer you as you make your way quickly down the stairs and to your banged up old Corsa. Not as sorry as his Cavalier, but nothing to be especially proud of.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

You can't even stomach looking at him. When you're both in the car, you open the windows and screech out of the car park and into the road, barely making it to third by the time you hit thirty.

"Aye, ease up," he tells you in a strained tone.

"You reek," is the only reply you can muster.

The rest of the drive is in silence. On the steering wheel, your knuckles are white. It takes twenty minutes with traffic to get home, and you're too angry to park neatly - half your wheel is on the pavement, and you'll probably get a ticket, but fuck it. Billy can pay for it - when he finally gets a job. The thought makes you snort, and he looks over at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"You ain't even got that to your name."

When he laughs in reply, it's dry, humourless. A cheap shot, you know, but Jesus. You're so angry you could push him into traffic, you really could-!

After a long pause, Billy speaks. "I int got my keys."

Silence is the answer you give him. He follows you across the road and up into the flat that you share. It's cluttered and messy and dirty, and you've been spending more and more time back at your mum's place than here lately. It's been a while since it felt like home.

On the stovetop, dirty pans wait to be washed. There's a half-finished Pot Noodle next to it, and a dish of used teabags. This isn't how you saw your life turning out. "Didn't have five minutes to clean up?"

He pours boiling water into two mugs and stirs them both without looking up. He's still wearing those sunglasses. "Didn't know when you'd be home. Didn't see the point."

"You don't help yourself, you know?"

He winces at your raised voice. "Save it, will you? My head's killing me."

"How many did you have last night?" you press. He hands you the cup of tea and you take it without thinking.

"A few."

"How many's a few?"

"I dunno. It was a wake, for fuck's sake, I wasn't counting."

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should've. A butchers', Billy, a fucking butchers'?"

Billy shrugs slightly. His chin is tilted down. Without taking a sip, you set your mug on the dirty counter and grab him by the front of his black shirt.

"What are you playing at?" you hiss.

His lip curls and he turns his face away. "Leave it."

"No! You're throwing your life away, and dragging other people down with it!"

"No one cares enough to be dragged down with me."

You slap him, hard. Across his sharp cheek your hand comes, and it knocks those stupid Aviators right off his nose. "No one cares enough? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

Sometimes, Billy is as meek as anything, and he takes the nasty things people say with shining eyes and tight lips. But other times, he comes to the edge of losing control. There is no shine in his eyes now - just the glisten of something dangerous. A thrill goes through you. He catches your wrist and squeezes until it hurts. "The girl who promised she'd never leave. But you're leaving me, aren't you? You're giving up, just like everyone else."

"What do you expect me to do?" you challenge. There are butterflies in your stomach when he pulls you closer, but you fight it. He's stronger than you, though. "Sit around and watch you waste the best years of my life? Watch you drain my bank account?"

"You promised."

"Look at the state of you." Your voice is low, angry. "Dirty clothes. Dirty face. Dirty fucking life."

His lip twitches, but he makes no reply. At least not with his words. One hand winds suddenly into your hair, fingers gripping hard at the root, and he pulls until your neck is arched, and your hands grab desperately for his arms. He doesn't go to the gym anymore, but his biceps are tensed and you hate how much you love the strain in the muscles.

"You're not a man," you hiss. "You need to grow up."

The hate in his heart has put distance between you. But the fire in his eyes is nothing but passion and love for you, you know. It's not enough for you anymore.

It still makes your pussy wet.

And when he shoves you against the messy counter, stomach first, you know what's coming. "Then why are you still here?" he mutters against your ear.

With his half-hard cock grinding in his filthy joggers against your backside, it's difficult to keep your mind on words, let alone an answer to such a complex question. Because you love him. Because you're filled with hope. Because you promised to stay.

You think of how ashamed he sounded on the phone this morning when he asked you to pick him up. You had been the one that he wanted when everything had gone to shit - when he had ruined everything. It was still you. "Because you called."

It comes out more tenderly than you intended. He grunts, and his hips stutter. "You fucking love me. Don't you?"

Gripping onto the countertop, you suppress a shiver and shake your head slightly. "No."

"Yeah, you do." Behind you, Billy shoves up your dress and presses his hand between your thighs. His long fingers rub over your underwear, and with his soft breaths at your ear, he slips them underneath. Between your folds he dips, and he groans to find you hot, the beginning of slickness pooling at your entrance. "Oh, yeah, that's what I thought."

"You don't deserve me," comes your defiant reply. It's punctuated by stiff breaths that give you away, though.

He smells unwashed, and stale beer clings to him like dust. It wraps you up in a haze of devotion and disgust. When he pushes his joggers down, you think of where they've been. He was wearing them when he carried out a hate crime, and when he was picked up by police sitting on the filthy pavement. In the police car and then the cells he wore them, and there are stains on them that you dread to think the origin of.

"Bend over," he tells you.

"No."

He growls against your ear. "Bend over."

"Make me."

And he does. With a hard hand on the back of your neck, he forces you to bend over where you stand. Before you have a moment to think, the blunt head of his cock nudges between your spread thighs, and he sinks into you like he owns you.

"Don't pretend you're too good for me," Billy mutters once he's deep inside you, his groin pressed against your backside. "That's not a fun game."

Your head rests on the counter, eyes closed. In front of you is the dish of teabags. It smells strangely comforting. "This isn't a game."

"Yeah, it is." He slams back and forth into you, once, twice, thrice, and then he pauses. "You love these little games that we play."

You hiss very quietly. "Get on with it."

"Oh?" There's a smirk in his voice now. Smug cunt.

"Just- just do it."

"Do you need it?" he asks. His pace begins smooth and slow. He knows what he's doing.

"Billy," you say through gritted teeth.

"What?"

You are going to have to swallow your pride. At least for a moment. Hopefully it'll be worth it. "Fuck me properly or not at all."

"You want it hard?"

Shit. He knows exactly what he's doing. You hate him for it. "Yes."

"Say it."

"No."

The hand on the back of your neck squeezes in a silent threat. His voice turns cold. It makes your blood run hot. "Say it."

"Fuck you!"

Billy scrapes his nails over your scalp before grasping your hair again and yanking you up slightly. He hisses against your ear. "Say it for me. Or I'll stop."

In a moment of quiet, you consider him. You could walk away now with your dignity. But, God, you feel so empty without him. And now he's inside you and you shift your hips slightly and even that tiny stimulation makes your eyes roll. "Oh, God. F-fuck. Fuck me. Hard."

And he does.

He fucking does.

The noise of your coupling in the little kitchen is obscene. Your skin slaps together as the slickness between your bodies echoes, barely covered by Billy's groans and your laboured breaths. His cock fills you perfectly, pounding into you again and again like you're unbreakable. He fucks you like you belong to him.

It makes your thighs tremble. He doesn't have the decency to touch you anywhere else this time. Sometimes, he spends hours worshipping your whole body, kissing and caressing your skin until you feel like a shrine of his love, godly and devotional. But here, now... he fucks you like he doesn't love you. But like he needs you.

"Fuck!" Billy bites your ear before licking around it. "You gonna keep your mouth shut next time?"

"No," you whine. "You're a piece of shit."

He slides his hand from the back of your neck to your throat, and pulls you up slightly. It makes your hips tilt and back arch, and the new angle makes your knees weak.

"I think you will." Words are punctuated by hard thrusts that feel so good they almost hurt. "Gonna make me come."

"Hand," you tell him. With one still around your throat, the other goes between your legs and his fingers rub a brutal rhythm over your clit. He presses your hot flesh hard and fast until you go weak in his arms. He holds you upright like it's nothing. Like you're nothing.

"Fuck, fuck-!"

"Billy, yes, yes, don't stop, don't-!"

He groans your name. "Fuck, fuck, gonna make me come, I'm-! Yes, oh, God yes, yes, yes-!"

Your orgasm crashes over you at the sound of him reaching his peak, and your knees give way. He holds you tight and strains up on his toes to bury himself as deep as he can, spilling inside you with a gutteral cry. Pleasure erupts from between your legs through your whole body, crashing over you in waves. The hand against your cunt holds you firm, giving you something to keep focus on as aftershocks make you twitch.

"I've got you," he mutters after his moans have subsided. You lean back in his arms, utterly spent. There are no thoughts left in your mind. Floating. You're just floating.

But what goes up, must come down.

"Let go," you mumble.

"Hmm?" His lips are at your neck, soft kisses making your skin tingle.

You push him away. It makes you wince when his cock slips, half hard, out of you. He made your underwear chafe against your thigh when he pushed it aside, you realise now. "Get off."

Billy hangs his head. Hastily, he pulls up his joggers and grabs his mug from the side. You notice the cuts on his knuckles have opened up again. Whatever. That's his own fault.

"Stay."

You look up at him. He avoids your gaze. "Billy..."

"Just... stay."

"Don't ask me that after... after that. You know I..."

"You what?" he asks. And then he looks at you with shining eyes.

"I can't say no to you like this. You... you know that."

He nods. "Yeah. That's why I did it."

It should make you hate him. It's bad enough that he did it, let alone admit it - he fucks you like this to keep you tied to him. But you don't hate him. Instead of leaving, you take your tea and follow him to the couch. Together, you sit down, and drink in silence. You'll stay. Come what may.

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 1

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating, set at Christmas (because I'm feeling festive)

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood is an arse, so is the reader, it's enemies to lovers what were you expecting really, Norrie is alive for the plot, I am British so if you're confused about words then that's why, mentions of extended family members being meanies, I think that's it?

Tag list is at the bottom (it's getting too long to put up here now), and as always if you would like to be added to/removed from it, then ask here or send me a note! <3

series master list

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

It was safe to say that Y/n L/n was not having a good morning.

George had been watching her over the top of his paper while she paced the living room on the phone, his eyebrows changing between furrowing and raising as he tried to figure out what was happening with only one half of the conversation.

"Are you... alright?" He wasn't the best at this sort of thing, but when it came to his friends he tried to put some sort of effort in to show that he cared about them. Y/n huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking like she was about to break into tears. If that happened George would have to go and get Lucy, because he definitely had no idea how to deal with Y/n when she cried. Normally he went and made her tea and plated up some biscuits, and she always accepted with a grateful smile and a lot of sniffles and let him leave again when he stood awkwardly near her, shuffling his feet on the spot.

He got the feeling that wouldn't be happening now, and he'd be held hostage instead.

"It's my mum. You know I've got this family Christmas thing coming up, right?" She paused while George nodded, taking her hand away from her face to see his reaction, then continuing on as she gestured wildly. "She seems to think I have a boyfriend, which I absolutely do not-"

"What, really?" George exclaimed sarcastically, pressing his hands over his heart in mock surprise. Y/n glared at him, looking incredibly non-threatening in her very jolly Christmas jumper. He resisted the urge to snort, knowing full-well that his friend spent most of the time complaining whenever relationships were the topic of conversation, since she couldn't understand why she was still single.

"As I was saying," another glare was aimed his way, "Mum thinks I have a boyfriend, and my aunt overheard her on the phone just now talking about my non-existent boyfriend, and it was Aunt Linda-"

"The one who gossips to everybody?"

"Yes!" Y/n jabbed a finger in George's direction, expression wild and fierce. "The one who gossips to everybody! So by now I think my entire fucking extended family and every single family friend knows that I have a boyfriend, who does not exist, and thinks that he's coming to our family Christmas in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

"I thought it was your childhood town?"

"Which is in the middle of nowhere! Genuinely nothing but fields and forests and the general countryside for miles and miles. Oh, and to top that all off, my cousin will be there-"

"The bitchy one who makes you feel like shit who you also thought wasn't coming this year?"

"Yes. Her. And Linda is her mum so Steph'll definitely know." Y/n finished, throwing herself into the sofa with a groan, turning over slightly, and screaming into a pillow.

George was about to stand up and head to the kitchen to put the kettle on (Y/n normally screamed not long before crying full-out) when Lockwood poked his head through the door, frowning at the sight before him.

"Everything alright?"

"Y/n's having a crisis. Fancy a cuppa, Lockwood?" George properly got up now, glad that another member of the household was here to deal with the situation. Lockwood nodded, then frowned again when he realised that George was escaping and shutting the two of them in a room together. Lockwood absolutely could have left anytime he wanted, but it was likely that Y/n thought he'd volunteered for the role of caretaker and couldn't leave without looking like an arse, or starting yet another argument between the two of them.

George breathed a sigh of relief, then made for the kitchen. He'd need a cup of tea in a minute when Y/n realised who was there to comfort her.

~~~

"The fuck do you want, Lockwood?"

"I- uh... what's... what's the problem?" His voice sounded pained, like he really didn't want to be in the room, and Y/n rolled her eyes.

"If you don't care, then leave," she said, attempting to hide the wobble in her voice at the thought of having to find someone to drag to her family gathering for three days, where she would be interrogated and prodded and poked and watched every second of every minute of every day, and criticised for every tiny thing she did. She was dreading it, really, but at least the third day would just be her immediate family and her non-existent boyfriend. The first two days would be filled with inquisitive relations that hadn't seen her since last year, wondering about her job and why she hadn't pursued something more stable, or asking about her love life (that was completely uneventful) and why she wasn't thinking about settling down.

Lockwood's frustrated sigh brought her out of her thoughts, and she pulled her face out of the pillow enough to see him clenching his jaw as he studied the wall with a lot more interest than it deserved. "Fine. Vent if you need to. Can I help at all, or are you going to get on my nerves until you leave?"

"Do you always have to be such a dick, Lockwood? Or are you like that because you're compensating?"

"Fuck off."

"Lovely comeback," she snapped, turning to lie on her back, staring up at the ceiling instead of at her boss' face. If she looked at him any longer she might bore holes through his head with the intensity of her glare. Neither of them said anything for a minute, the only sounds the clock ticking away in the corner, counting down to her imminent doom, and George in the kitchen making tea. "My family thing, this weekend. Everyone thinks I'm bringing my boyfriend."

"You don't have a boyfriend though."

"I know that, Lockwood. But my family think that I do have one, and now I have less than forty-eight hours to find one." She heard him snort, and squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that it would block out his next words.

"Good luck with that. Maybe Kipps'll volunteer? He needs the free food."

"Can't you have just the tiniest bit of sympathy for me?" She pushed up, moving to sit and direct her frustration at Lockwood. "I am in a near-impossible situation here and you're being insufferable right now!"

"Maybe you should take Lockwood," George said, and Y/n jumped at the sound of his voice in the living room.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" she asked, already eyeing up the plate of biscuits on the tea tray. "Wait," Y/n paused as she properly registered George's words. "Take him?" Lockwood looked just as horrified by the idea of it, shaking his head frantically.

"Yeah. Oh, here's your tea, Y/n/n."

"What about you, George?! Surely you could come along and help me out instead?!"

"I thought I told you already, I'm going to my own family's house for Christmas. Lucy's going to stay with Norrie, and Holly's spending the holidays with her girlfriend. Lockwood's alone, in this big old house, and you've got limited time and also limited options." Y/n was annoyed at how right George was, but she wasn't giving in so easily. Not when giving in meant spending three days with the one person she despised more than anything in the world.

"Fine, if you have no other options by the time you need to leave, I'll go with you. But I will not enjoy a second of it if I do," Lockwood finally ground out, and Y/n had to fight back a look of surprise at his words.

"You- what?"

"It saves being in this house alone over Christmas. I've done that one too many times now, and at least your family will be a distraction. And," he added, "a great way to see all your baby photos." His smile was wolfish, and Y/n wondered how anybody ever found it charming.

"Alright. But I'm finding someone else, so it looks like you'll have to miss out on this one I'm afraid." Her smile was simpering, sugar sweet and sickly with how faked it was.

George looked between the two of them, then sank back into his armchair with his tea. "That's that sorted then."

~~~

It was absolutely not sorted.

Y/n was panicking. A lot. Apparently nobody fancied spending Christmas with some random agent for three days in the literal middle of fucking nowhere with her entire extended family, which was incredibly inconvenient for Y/n.

She now was supposed to be leaving in roughly two hours, and was frantically shoving the last few things in her suitcase while phoning anybody that she could attempt to pass off as her fake boyfriend.

Anybody that meant she didn't have to take Lockwood.

Perhaps if he wasn't such an asshole all the time, she'd be less reluctant, but since the first day they'd met he'd been rude to her.

It had been after a job, three years ago back when she was a solo agent taking any work that meant she could keep a roof over her head and food in her belly. Her night had been long, making her tired and weary with how much her bones ached, and she was hardly looking where she was going when she turned the corner onto her street, making her bump into a tall figure. Her first thought when the two of them stumbled away from each other was how gorgeous this boy was, and her second was how utterly awful his personality was. She had apologised before she could see his face, already muttering excuses and explaining her lack of coordination, but within seconds he was opening his mouth and talking, telling her that she should have been more alert and "could she not stand on his shoes, they're new" and she'd taken a proper look at him and decided that yes, he was pretty, but he was also not particularly nice.

Then a few months later she'd seen an ad in the paper for a small agency that had needed a new agent, preferably with strong Touch, and had chosen to go along for an interview. What she hadn't expected was the boy from that night to be the one interviewing her, and evidently he was just as shocked to see her, his expression quickly settling into a frown.

"No thank you. We don't want careless agents like you, thank you very much." His words had stung more than she cared to admit, making the backs of her eyes prick and her throat close up with emotion. She'd almost turned tail and walked out the door (something she very rarely did), but a girl dressed mostly in blue and with an excited smile on her face came in to the room, asking if this was their new recruit. Apparently the boy couldn't say no to her, or the other girl that appeared a few moments later with her clothes all neat and ironed, or indeed the other boy with glasses and curly hair who had ketchup stains on his t-shirt. Within minutes of the three of them arriving in the room, Y/n had a job at the company as an agent with a strong sense of Touch, and was being given a biscuit and a cup of tea.

She had quickly learned that the first girl was Lucy, the second was Holly, and the curly-haired boy was George, and then Lockwood had introduced himself as the head of the company.

"Don't you have... supervisors?" she had asked, confused as to just how this company worked exactly.

"No." His smile had been tight, and he had left the room right after, pushing past his colleagues and heading up the stairs. Lucy had been quick to fill in the rest, explaining all the answers to every question that Y/n had, with Holly and George chipping in when she forgot something.

Lockwood had continued his behaviour from that day ever since, despite Y/n's best efforts to get him to like her, and eventually after a few months of attempted friendship offers, she gave up and leaned into the whole hating each other schtick that was apparently happening.

So no, she did not want to have to bring Lockwood to her family gathering for three days and pretend to love him. She didn't want to do that at all.

Unfortunately, it was starting to look as though she wouldn't have a choice.

~~~

"Well? Please? Come on, I never beg for anything from you."

"I know, and I'm actually rather enjoying it."

"Prick," Y/n muttered, frowning at Lockwood. "You said that you'd do it if you had to. Well, you have to. So pack your bags and let's go; the train's in an hour."

"Fine. But I am not happy about this." He made his way back inside his bedroom, leaving Y/n stood outside the door (she refused to cross the threshold of this one particular room).

"Oh, because I am personally so ecstatic about this situation!" Her voice was thick with sarcasm, and Lockwood paused in his packing to glare at her.

"It's not my fault you couldn't find somebody to pretend to date you for three days."

"No, but I'll blame you anyway."

"Charming."

"Hmm. Hurry up."

"We've got ages, stop fretting like a mother."

"The train leaves in an hour, and it takes ten minutes to get there. Then you have to factor in maybe five to ten minutes of traffic, and difficulties getting through the gates at the station which is what, another five minutes? And then if there are any problems with the actual trains then we want to be early just in case so that a plan can be made to get a different one, and also if there aren't any problems then we at least want to be there early so that we can get on first and get a table. So no, we haven't got ages, we've got minutes before we need to go. Hurry up."

Lockwood had been staring at her in disbelief while she talked, his jaw slack and his eyes wide, but when Y/n glared at him again he went back to packing. "You really think that much about travelling?"

"There is so much that can go wrong with trains, so yes."

"Fine," Lockwood huffed, coming out of his room to cross into the bathroom, grabbing his wash bag out of the cupboard and shoving a toothbrush and flannel in. "Where's the toothpaste?"

"I've got some, so we can share. Trust me, you don't want to share with George. He's like a dragon with the way he hoards his toothpaste."

Lockwood gave her a weird look as he zipped up the bag, heading back into his room to finish stuffing items into the large bag he was taking with him as luggage. Y/n was sure he'd repurposed a kit bag for this, but if it meant she wasn't having to explain to everyone why she had failed at bringing a boyfriend that didn't even exist then she supposed she could forget about where the kit was currently being stored.

"Ok, I think that's everything," he said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, yanking the bag up and over his shoulder. He was still in a suit, which Y/n thought was ridiculous since they didn't even have any meetings today other than the one with her family, and when they made it to the bottom of the stairs he grabbed his jacket and signature long coat. Y/n was already in her own winter coat, thick scarf wrapped around her neck and gloves poking out her pocket, her boots echoing throughout the building. They were the only two left now, since the other three had already left for their own Christmas celebrations, so Lockwood had to spend an extra minute finding the keys to lock up, and then another minute trying to put them back in his pocket. In the end, Y/n was so frustrated with how long he was taking that she snatched the keys from his hand and shoved them in the chest pocket on the inside of his coat, turning and dragging her small suitcase behind her into the pre-booked taxi.

"Sorry, he takes a while to do things every now and then. He's immensely stupid," she said, smiling at the driver as the man put her suitcase in the boot of his taxi. He looked concerned, frowning up at Lockwood where he was coming down the stairs, then nodded slightly, his expression morphing into confusion.

The drive itself was fast, and there were no problems at the station, but Y/n still couldn't help but feel that something would go wrong on their journey to her parents' house.

"The only thing that's wrong-"

"Don't say that, you bastard!"

"-is me being here."

"Oh. Well, that's true."

"Why couldn't you have just gone on your own?"

"You'll see when you meet everyone. Are you... will you be alright? I mean, it's literally everybody still alive in my family along with all of our close friends, which is near on fifty people, all in my parents' house."

"What are you trying to say?" Lockwood's expression was stony, and a coldness had come into his eyes that Y/n had only ever seen back when she was trying to be his friend and asked about his family. She had since learned that they had died when he was young, and had steered well clear of the subject afterwards.

"I just... it's a lot for me, and I do this every year. I can't imagine how awful this'll be for someone who's..." she trailed off, trying to find the right words.

"Who's family is dead?" Lockwood asked, more forcefully than he needed to.

"No, I didn't mean-" Y/n said.

"Sure," he cut her off, tone sharp and as bitter as the wind that was whipping around them. She tried to speak again, but he scoffed and turned away before she could explain what she had really meant by her words. Lockwood didn't seem to be relenting anytime soon, instead choosing to stare out at the tracks with a clenched jaw. The conversation died, and they didn't say a word until the train pulled up to the platform and they were attempting to find a good seat.

When they were finally sat down, bags secure and able to relax a little, Y/n sighed softly at Lockwood's still tense figure. He wasn't looking at her, which she supposed was a good thing because generally when he looked at her he was coming up with something rude to say. But if they wanted this to work, they needed to be talking.

And apparently, Y/n had pissed off her fake boyfriend.

Ugh, she thought. This is going to be a fucking shitshow.

part 2

Tag list (hopefully this is everyone): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

started my period last night and today even talking is exhausting so i was thinking about what bucky would be like with reader on their period who’s suffering from fatigue/exhaustion :)

Hi @brnesblogposts! I'm still half under the assumption that you might have sent this to me by accident, because I haven't had anyone talking to me in months! LOL. Anyway, I hope your period is over soon! And I hope you enjoy this little bit of what my brain came up with!

How many trips could you possibly make to the bathroom in one evening? you thought as you hobbled back to the couch. The cramping pain in your lower abdomen was unrelenting and you were exhausted.

Since the age of fifteen, you had suffered from debilitating period pains just before and as your period started. It usually meant missing a day of school and now work. You’d beseeched your doctor for a cure, but nothing seemed to abate the anger your uterus seemed to have. The pill. It had helped a little.

Flopping down on the sofa, you pulled your knees up towards you and groaned into the nearest cushion.

“Doll?” Bucky’s concerned voice floated across the living room.

You had just moved in with your boyfriend. He had never seen you like this before because you had always hidden away on days like these. Now you regretted keeping this from him as you were in no mood to explain the issue to him.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he rushed over and sat down beside you on the couch. Bucky’s eyes were wide with fear. “Are you sick? Do we need to go to the hospital?” he asked, a little frantically.

You couldn’t help but snort into the cushion. He was a real worrier sometimes.

“I’m fine, it’s fine, I’ll be just fine,” your muffled voice tried to convince him of the fact, even though you didn’t feel it.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Trust me, period pain is not a reason to visit the emergency room.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

You looked up dismally, into Bucky’s weary face.

“No.” You didn’t want to add any more tension into his already stressful day.

“Have you taken any ibuprofen?”

You shook your head.

“Can I get you some?”

“Please,” you nodded.

As Bucky wandered into the kitchen, a sharp stab told you that you needed to take another trip to the toilet.

This was just too exhausting but you didn’t want Bucky to see you cry but when you went back to the living room, you couldn’t stop tears rolling down your face.

Not because of the pain, but because you had the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. Bucky had piled the coffee table with several forms of pain killers, a steaming mug of tea, a variety of cakes and a hot water bottle.

“Oh Buck,” you whispered.

He smiled and beckoned you back to the sofa. As you settle yourself into a comfortable position, Bucky covered you with a blanket and handed you some pills, along with your favorite fruity tea. Gently he placed the hot water bottle onto your tender abdomen and pulled your bare feet into his lap. You moaned quietly as Bucky massaged your feet with his deft fingers.

All of his comforting measures were starting to take effect and you found yourself nodding off. You jerked awake, almost kicking Bucky in the face in the process.

“Woah, it’s alright, you’re fine. Just go to sleep.” He stroked your legs gently.

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can.”

“Not unless you want there to be a huge patch of blood on the sofa when I wake up.”

Bucky scrunched up his nose.

“Exactly!”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to -”

“No, you were right with the ick face.”

“Doll, you were in a lot of pain earlier.”

“Yeah, it sucks.”

“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”

“I did, I’ve tried everything. I just have to suffer it seems.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Just gotta ride it out once a month!”

“I could -” Bucky tried to search for the right words.

“Be here with me?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

[lostinwildflowers]

Iced Tea Kisses

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Rooster and you have known each other for a long time and he casually asks you on a date after being platonic friends for years. 

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Fluff, very very very slight angst if you squint, just two goofballs in love

A/N: This is my first time writing for Rooster, so hopefully I did him good! I'd love to hear feedback because I've got a couple of other Rooster ideas in my drafts!!! Please enjoy!! -Birch<3

It was an unusually calm night outside of the Hard Deck. Yes, it was the middle of summer and the sun was blistering hot, but with a decent amount of cloud cover and the ocean spray catching the wind, it was a peaceful day.

The regular crowd was gone for the weekend, the chance to go see their families giving them the opportunity to get out of dodge in the blink of an eye.

But you were a local, and you enjoyed spending time outside of the naval bar, reading down by the water as the sun set over it. You were friends with some of the naval aviators, specifically long-term best friends with none other than Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.

After his father had passed away when he was young, Carole had him transfer schools, where Rooster met you and you became his best friend almost immediately.

Over the years, the two of you formed a very close and tight-knit friendship, as you were one of the only people Rooster had after his mom passed away. Thus, when everyone left town, the two of you stayed behind and hung out.

The sun had just started to set, and even with your shades fighting off the bright rays as you tried to read, you still had to squint at the pages to follow along with your book.

Next to you, Rooster was fiddling with the small cooler of drinks he'd managed to snag from Penny at the bar, reaching for iced tea to try to cool himself down.

Rooster, being himself, donned what most would call the ugliest shirt known to man, the bright reddish pink and yellow flowers splattered all over the green base of the Hawaiian shirt. The shirt was completely unbuttoned, exposing his abs and muscular pecs.

You did your best to focus on your book because while you weren't blind and you knew your best friend was hot, you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times over the years.

You could hear Rooster fumbling with the ice in the cooler, and blinking away from your book, you ask, "You need help over there?"

A small chuckle is your only response, and the sound of ice crashing before Rooster turns to you with a wide smile makes close your book and look at him.

"Iced tea?" he asks, offering the drink to you as his aviators slid down the bridge of his nose. You smile back at him and say, "Only if you didn't break my glass of lemonade for later."

Rooster's smile drops and he tugs the drink back toward his bare chest, the sides of his shirt gently flowing in the wind. "Ooo, might need to get a rain check then, you see, I had to put it out of its misery for trying to steal my iced tea."

A snort falls from your lips as you set your book down and face him, an eyebrow quirked at him as you quip, "You had to put it out of its misery? Did it try to attack you or something?"

Rooster shifts his weight forward, and looking over the brim of his glasses he whispers, "It did. You missed it, but it tried to cut off my right hand, so I did the only thing I could do."

At the same time, you both say, "Fight back." A moment of silence passes between the two of you before you both erupt in booming laughter, your hand coming up to swipe the iced tea from Rooster's hand.

But he's always one step ahead of you, and he lifts it above your head as he tuts, "Nu-uh, Y/n/n! This one's for me!" You struggle to your knees to try to grab at the cool drink, giggles still falling from your lips.

Rooster turns his body away from you, swapping the drink to his right hand as he chuckles, trying to keep you away from the last living drink from the cooler.

"Roooooooster," you call out in between giggles, your hands still trying to grasp at the drink. Your knee slides in the sand under you, and your right-hand flies out to catch yourself as you go down.

You end up catching yourself on Rooster's shoulder as your body weight pushes his back into the sand. The drink in his right-hand lowers as you fall into him, and his left wraps around you so you didn't whack your head on the cooler.

"That's my name," he mumbles cheekily up at you as try to catch your breath from all of your laughter. The drink was no longer a thought as you gazed deep into his hazel eyes, his shades having fallen into the sand a little ways away.

It's still around the two of you, minus the waves and the occasional call of a gull off in the distance. Rooster looks divine laying under you like this, his hair was longer than usual, the curls just barely beginning to be bleached by the sun.

His gaze was soft as he looked up at you, and before he could stop himself, he whispers, "Go out with me." His stomach drops as the words leave his mouth, and your reaction is similar.

You don't move from his lap as you stare down at him, your cheeks getting warm as you push your sunglasses from your nose up into your hair to keep it out of your face.

"No," you say, shaking your head. In reality, you wanted to lunge forward and shout yes, yes, yes! from the top of the world, but he was your best friend. There was no way you could do that to him, you couldn't ruin your friendship.

Rooster frowns and you think your world is about to implode for a second, but then a smirk returns to his lips as he says, "Why won't you go on a date with me, huh? Scared you'll like it or something?"

A huff falls from your lips, and your head falls to rest on Rooster's chest in practiced ease. You can feel Rooster's grip on you tighten, and when he squeezes your waist a few times, you pull back and look at him.

His gaze is serious, and you suddenly feel butterflies bloom in your stomach with the way he's looking at you. Rooster glances away, setting the iced tea down next to the cooler.

"Y/n, I want to take you out with me," he mumbles, his now free hand coming up to brush a piece of hair behind the end of your sunglasses. You shake your head once and say, "Roo, no, you don't. If we did this- if... if I say yes, we can't ever go back to the way we've been."

Rooster smiles lightly as he cups your cheek and replies, "But I don't want to be where we've been. I want a future, with you, and broken lemonade glasses. Days where I can come home and hug you, kiss you, make love to you." At the end of his sentence, he playfully wiggles his eyebrows, eliciting a soft giggle from the two of you.

He sighs as he tugs you closer and whispers, "I want you." You swallow thickly as you move your hands from his bare chest up to hold his face. His mustache tickles your hands as you run your thumb along his cheek, and you smile quietly for a moment before you nod.

"I want you too," you whisper, leaning into his touch, your nose barely brushing against his. You take a deep breath before cracking a wide smile and busting out, "As long as you promise to not break anymore of my lemonades!"

Rooster groans and leans back, falling flat against the sand. You giggle at his reaction but squeal when he pulls you to his chest. His hand releases your face, and with impeccable timing, he digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you mercilessly.

Cries and laughter fall from your lips as you wiggle helplessly in his arms, your limbs flailing in all directions. "Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry!" you cry out as you catch one of his wrists.

You sigh as his attacks stop, giggles still escaping you as you reiterate, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I ruined your moment." Rooster smiles and leans back into you as he mutters, "Just as long as you'll promise me a thousand more."

You lean deep into him this time, your nose bumping against his as you whisper, "Always." At that, he makes the final push, and his lips land on yours in a soft but sweet kiss, the taste of iced tea on his tongue sending your mind into overdrive.

Ever so slightly you shift in his grasp, and before you know it, a cold liquid is running down the side of your legs. The both of you pull away from the kiss and roll away from the imposter, seeing the iced tea Rooster had set down just a few inches away, now laying on its side, the liquid poured out across the sand.

You turn back to Rooster and you mumble against his lips, "Now it's not only another lemonade you need to get me," and you fall back against his lips.